Yesterday was Mum’s birthday.  After a long soak in the hot tub we got the bus to Edinburgh and took it in turns to wear some silly glasses. The 5 year old was desperate to see the 1 o’clock gun go off at the castle.

We missed the 1 o’clock gun again by 1 minute.  Dad recreated it for us though so it was OK.  I’m not sure the 5 year old was convinced.

We decided to go and sit on The Mound and watch some performers.  The first one was OK, there was a bit of mild peril when he pretended to fall into the crowd with a machete.  The second one, The Great Canadian, was a juggler … he juggled big balls, little balls, clubs and blocks.  He kept dropping them. His grand finale was flinging a giant Chinese yo-yo in the air … which he dropped. Mum felt sorry for him and gave him twice the money.

We went to Waterstones where Mum bought us all a book.  She said that getting to mooch in a bookshop was the best present ever.  When we got to Waterstones we were told that Steve Backshall, of ‘Deadly 60′,  had been there an hour earlier signing books. Mum wanted to know if he’d done the signing without his top on like he does in his show.  The man behind the counter wasn’t very enthusiastic about Steve’s visit and rolled his eyes.

We had tea at Hard Rock cafe and argued over the touch screen. Later we got the bus home and the 5 year old sat right at the front of the top deck of a double decker.  He thought it was awesome.

Wish you were here

xxx

To see Tuesday and Wednesday’s postcards click here and here.

I will discover that the flying chair swing, at the theme park, makes you want to vomit.  My children will never tire of the flying chair swing.

If I scream on the children’s frog roller-coaster I will not only lose the respect of the 6 year old, sitting next to me, and the Dutch school party in front of me.

Coffee also comes in a bag which can be confusing when trying to make a cup of tea.

Fat raindrops sound lovely on a mobile home roof.  Seagulls dive bombing, at speed, at 5am, do not.

The beautiful Guess handbag shouting “BE MINE” as I go up the escalator, in the department store in Amsterdam, will never be mine.

I will play tennis, badly, with the 5 year old but he will never tire of running after that ball.

I will never buy candy floss for the children again.  It was a once in a lifetime opportunity and they grabbed it with both hands. Dried on sticky candy floss is a nightmare. Let’s not get started on the wild look in their eyes 30 minutes after consumption.

A lack of gin and being forced to drink white wine will result in a hangover … and a cataclysmic loss at cards with The Husband.

If the 5 year old feeds the duck that sits on our decking each morning, it will return every morning thereafter.  But, each time it will bring a new family member, four crows and five massive seagulls.

The Dutch still haven’t cottoned on to the fact that shell-suits went out of fashion in the early 90′s.

Dutch teacher’s, in charge of children, on school trips smoke like chimneys.

By day 5 the decking of our mobile home will look like a scene from Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’.

Out of the several thousand cyclists you see only two of them will be wearing cycle helmets.

In contrast to the lax cycle helmet wearing I will never, again, see so many men wearing socks and sandals as I did in Holland.  Socks and sandals will never be right even on the blind beggar, near the station, in Amsterdam.

Apparently not.

So when I said I thought it was a bit harsh, making us pay 20 euros to have four sets of photos done, they suggested we all pile into the photo booth at once and that would be fine.

After digesting the ridiculousness of this we decided that the only way we were going to get to swim was if we complied.  Our new family portrait consists of four sweaty bodies, post childrens’ disco, wedging ourselves in the booth.  In order to get all of our faces partially in the frame we had to hoist the children up.

My startled look, complete with hair helmet, and The ‘one-eyed’ Husband’s hand pushing the 5 year old’s head up only makes our new family portrait even more special cough.

We arrived home on Sunday. I unpacked and washed five loads of laundry, then hung them about the house in a crazy formation. The children, tired from a week of late nights and non stop action laid still, snuggled up together, on the big beanbag and watched films all day long and I didn’t feel guilty.

The Husband collected the dog who came home with fleas.  We quarantined her in the conservatory until we came up with a battle plan which involved me racing to Pets at Home, before it shut, and getting something to kill the little blighters. Since our discovery I haven’t been able to stop scratching and the dog is looking forlorn and a bit itchy.

I handed my notice in at work on Monday.  It was nerve wracking but am glad it’s done now. I went on holiday knowing that when I came back I would be handing my notice in.  This caused anxiety dreams all week about Egyptian Extremists. No, I don’t know why. My boss was very good about my news, “Onwards and upwards” he said and I couldn’t agree more.  I’ll be starting a new job in 4 week’s time which I can do mainly at home. It’s an online monitoring position and involves lots of social media.  I’ll have loads more time with the kids in the holidays and lots of child free time during term time where I can finally concentrate on all my writing projects.

Apart from that I need to;

Get on and write up a zillion blog posts.

Stock up on gin-in-a-tin and moustaches for Cybermummy.

Continue reading.  I lost the reading bug a few months ago but it’s back.  I’ve just finished When God Was A Rabbit by Sarah Winman which was a great book, full of nostalgia, all warm and fuzzy with ragged edges and I didn’t want to put it down.  Am now reading The Personal History of Rachel DuPree by Ann Weisgarber … only part way through but I can’t put it down. The 6 year old and I are reading one Dog And His Boy by Eva Ibbotson another great book for kids which has got us both snuggling up at night for “just one more chapter?”.

Continue willing the 5 year old’s hospital letter to arrive with new of the date for his grommet operation.

Stop the involuntary twitch every time I think about fleas.

On Tuesday when the self service checkout till at Tesco gave me my receipt I, on auto-pilot, said “Thank You”.  Loud as day, much to the amusement of the man standing next to me. Mortified.

On Wednesday I turfed an old lady out of MY RESERVED seat on a train, only to discover that MY RESERVED seat was actually in the next carriage.

On Thursday I sent an email to someone about an e-shot … only I called it an e-shit.

On Friday I sent an email to my husband, the subject of which was very rude.  I had a buttock clenching, sweat inducing, moment where I thought I had actually sent it to my Dad.  Luckily I hadn’t.

With all this in mind I am having a blogoliday, my brain needs a detox. Lots of good things are going on, lots of exciting things are going on and of course there is a soupçon of crapola thrown in for good measure. This all needs my full attention.  Whilst I’m away I have some fabulous guest posters hanging around the place.  Please make them welcome.

Oh, and if anyone has any tips for what to do in Holland with kids it would be appreciated (make yourselves at home in the comment box below).

Love you long time.

Victoria and her family are one month into a round the world trip, check out her blog, It’s A Small World After All, for news.  They are currently in in Waikiki!

Twas lovely to find this on Tuesday, when I got in from the snow, after work.

I went with my Dad, my Stepmum, the 6 year old and the 4 year old. We travelled in the same car which meant I had to sit, wedged, between my darling children for an hour and a half.

Now I know why they argue. I felt like a child again, myself, as I berated the 6 year old continuously for touching my white linen trousers with her sandals. The 4 year old fell asleep on my shoulder, leaving a snail trail of drool on my top.

I had brought some snacks for the journey. Noting my white linen trousers I bought a selection of dry cheese snack products from Tesco and water in bottles.

When the 6 year old saw the cheese strings she was like a heroin addict being shown a bag of the brown stuff. Her eyes widened and I told her this was her once yearly treat.  I don’t trust any food product that can be fashioned into a palm tree in 0.5 seconds. Finished off with a healthy *cough* bag of mini cheddars their snack attack was over … and my white linen trousers were still white.

I tweeted about the cheese strings and got the following response from my sister …

I had a flashback to the Summer of 2000.  I was sat in My Sister’s Espace on the way to the South of France. The car had five people in it and was packed to the roof with luggage and holiday ‘stuff’.

My nephew, then aged 6, had eaten a hearty lunch on the Channel Tunnel of cheese strings and Haribo.  As we left the Tunnel I settled down for a nap, he was sat behind me.  As I drifted off, dreaming of yachts in St Tropez there was an almighty vomiting sound, behind me.

My nephew had, in one swift movement, released the cheese string/Haribo mix combo from his stomach and deposited it all over the back of my chair, narrowly missing my hair.

My Sister sprang into action, and cleared the sick, like only a mother can.  Armed with a can of Febreze she eradicated the smell of cheese strings and Haribo.  Unfortunately for the rest of the journey (24 hours) and the next two weeks the car smelt of Febreze, sick … cheese strings and Haribo.

I can still smell it now.

… and as our journey continued to Runcorn yesterday, sat trapped between my offspring, I tried to protect my white linen trousers with a hoodie and moved the 4 year old’s sleeping mouth away from my shoulder in case of any cheese string evacuation.

This all changed during our holiday to Italy with Keycamp.  We all relaxed.  It could have been the weather, consistently sunny; Or  maybe their ages, they are now more independent; Or the fact that all our needs were catered for.

We stayed on the Ca’Savio site at Cavallino near Venice in Northern Italy (the pictures on the website don’t really do it justice).

The children were in their element.  We alternated our time between the two pools and beach which the campsite backed onto.  When we were at our caravan the children made friends with the children opposite and made the most of their freedom.

I was a bit wary about whether either of my children would want to go to a kids club whilst on holiday and I didn’t give it much thought until their new friends said they were going.

I discovered that the on-site club would take children from the age of 4, but the Keycamp club’s clubs were 0-4 and 5+.  The 4 year old wanted to be with his sister so we opted for the on-site club.  They had a lovely time, collecting shells on the beach to make into necklaces, going on bouncy castles, drawing, making mobiles and peacocks.  They wanted to go every morning after that.  They went four times in total.

The first time I left them I felt a bit lost, if I’m honest.  I soon realised that for two hours they were enjoying themselves.  I could read my book without interruption, sunbathe, swim or on the last day pack our suitcases and get ready to leave without two bored children getting in the way.  I would definitely take advantage of the kids clubs again.

The campsite was just the right size and didn’t feel too crowded, the facilities were excellent.  With two pools and the beach all within a 5 minute walk we never got bored.

My only grumble is that the linen, towels and welcome pack were not there when we arrived and we had to wait for it.  Also because it was the beginning of season the kitchen was not fully equipped.  Luckily the on-site Keycamp representatives (couriers) were on hand to remedy this … and they also threw in a bottle of wine which went down a treat.

The local town had some lovely restaurants with really friendly staff. We ate a lot of pizza and seafood which was excellent.

The boat to Venice was only a 10 minute drive away.  We spent the day there. For 16 EUROS per person (4s and under free) we were able to get a return trip to Venice including all water taxis. We had a fabulous, but expensive, lunch on the Grand Canal … the best mozzarella I’ve ever tasted.  It is a really beautiful city and one I definitely want to return to for further exploration.

We hired a car as the airport was 35 minutes away.  Once we were there we didn’t actually use it that much and returned it with an almost full tank of petrol.

Bike hire was available on the site and if we were there for a little longer we would have probably taken advantage of this, as it was we were close enough to everything not to need it.

This wouldn’t have been the sort of holiday that we would have chosen.  We would normally opt for a villa holiday.  But after a week at Ca’Savio we realised that it was the perfect family holiday and everyone got something out of it.

For the first time ever we came home from holiday feeling refreshed. We are already planning which Keycamp campsite to visit next year.

Thank you Keycamp.  Big smiles all round!