I am currently sat on my sun-lounger facing the pool on our last day of our holiday writing this (although we are no doubt back in Blighty by time you are reading this, and I manage to get it posted) baby 1 is with her dad in the kids pool and baby 2 has just been put down for his morning nap. It is an oh so rare few minutes of time by myself allowing me to indulge in a post holiday summary. If you are Facebook friend of mine and are reading this you have no doubt seen some lovely family pictures of mum, dad and kiddies enjoying our Menorcan break, coupled with some shots of sangria and the odd mojito. Facebook has shown our picture perfect family holiday. Well guys rest assured that picture perfect glimpse into our holiday was just that, a fleeting, momentary glimpse that passed us by as quickly as it did you.
The reality was of course a little different, although our flight out here was successful all things considered it would seem as though we peaked on arrival.
Some days looked like this, and they were beautiful warm summer days with an ideal breeze for the babies.
It was a risk coming to the Balearic islands, islands known for the sometimes changeable weather, but it seemed as though the skies were clear on the lead up to our holiday and again upon our departure, the two weeks in between however, not so much. As a teenager I would have had a full on meltdown if the sun didn’t shine on my foreign holiday. Sadly I have not grown up much. I still felt the petulant anger toward the ominous clouds, although for different reasons. I was no longer preoccupied with the darkening of my skin, but what on earth to do with my two under two. One day it rained, all day. I hate a wet day at home where they have their toys, the freedom of their house to run riot in or even the god dam soft play. But here, in a two bed apartment made of tiles, sharp cornered tables at perfect toddler head height and a toddler who is obsessed with spinning around did not make for a relaxed mum. At one point I do believe I was rocking in the apartment. All colouring, sticking, iPads, toys, everything and anything had been exhausted and it was still raining – it was only 1pm. There was still a long day stretching out in front of us. So what did we do? Legged it the hotel bar, sought refuge in a bottle of cava and let the toddler run riot up and down the bar with the other kids and despairing adults.
For the last 11 months baby 2 has been a happy placid easy going little boy. That was until about 2 days into said holiday. I would say he had moaned approximately 90% of the time, save for when he was eating or sleeping. The problem, I believe, has been he wants to crawl and move about. Before we left he was not yet crawling (still playing catch up from his early arrival) however had we had carpet to put him on I think we would now have a little mover. But alas the Spanish do not do carpet, and given his inability to actually crawl I was somewhat reluctant to put him down on the tiled floor and wait for the inevitable face plant and broken nose. The result? one frustrated little boy. The answer? Pushing him in his buggie (you dare stop for fear of moaning), feed him or let him sleep. It’s been a challenging time I’d say…
I don’t generally do ill, ya know I’m a mum, mum’s aren’t ill, but this holiday, oh my god was I poorly – for a mum anyway. I spent 4 days unable to eat, and (warning TMI alert) if I did eat it came straight back out at an alarming rate. Cue trip to la farmacia numbero uno. So there I found myself in a pharmacy having an unfortunately loud conversation with the pharmacist in front of too many people asking for some form of Spanish immodium. I then spent 4 days traipsing round different towns of Menorca with one eye out for the nearest loo. Not pleasant. Then disaster really struck, on the penultimate day Mr TM got ill. Dads do get ill you see and the only cure, bed rest.
We also visited the pharmacist for, antihistamine (yep I managed to get hayfever), mouth ulcer treatment, plasters, and ante acids. Yep a record amount of visits I think and money spent.
The pox had indeed descended upon our hotel, one by one kids were becoming infected with the red itchy spots. Given you have a roughly 5 day no fly incubation period and would be effectively house bound on your Spanish holiday, pox really would have been horrendous. Then 2 days before we were due to fly home some people we had become friendly with broke the news, their babies had the pox and they were on a flying embargo. OMG Our kids have played with their kids. SH***********T. We were on spot alert, examining every inch of their bodies bi-hourly and breaking out in a sweet at the sight of an ominous red bump. So far so good. Watch this space.
Was it all bad?
I appreciate moaning about being lucky enough to go on a 2 week holiday in the ‘sun’ makes me sound like a bit of a knob. That’s not the intention. More of a reflection of how holidays have well and truly changed. There is no sunbathing, no enjoying a leisurely cocktail, no doing anything leisurely actually. You are instead trying to entertain babies all day, stop them from burning, stop them from drowning, stop them from running off, trying to make sure they eat something other than chips and ice cream all day, you are on your feet and on high alert all day everyday. The usual ‘bed time rescue time’ doesn’t even kick in thanks to the inventor of mini disco. But with that came a lot I wasn’t expecting. My nearly two-year old’s speach came on immensely in two weeks, I think the two weeks intense family time, attention and conversation really helped. She thrived on mini disco and playing in the pool. I do believe she had the best holiday of all of us and that was truly lovely to see. Admittedly she went a little funny when strangers approached, unless you were a Spanish man…she had no problem talking to, waving at and high fiving Spanish men, I really do not know where she got that from… Further both babies constant snotty noses and difficult breathing eased up, we met some really lovely people from all over and did consider extending our stay…until we realised actually it might be more relaxing at home. So no it wasn’t ALL bad.