Remember when you used to look forward to Bank Holiday weekends…? When a Monday off meant another weekend night of drinking, partying, celebrating hating a real-job…. well, AHA HAHAHA HAHA AHAHAHAHA. Yes. I’m laughing but it’s very loud and there’s tears and wine in it.
Bank Holidays with tiny people are a different ballgame altogether… it’s mainly about choosing ridiculously hard activities to do which will look good when you post the pictures on Facebook later. With wanky smug captions including ‘Daddy wuvs his ickle absailer…’ ‘Trialthlon training with the toddler…’ or ‘LOVING Peppa Pig World.’ Which is a lie. Because no-one above 120cm in height loves Peppa Pig World. NO. ONE.
But I digress…
Personally, as I enjoy a challenge… and by challenge I mean complete misery and listening to a toddler, baby and grown man cry for several hours straight, we chose to go swimming. *twitches*
So here’s my top ten tips for enjoying a Bank Holiday pool trip with a baby and a toddler: *twitches again and does a shot*
- Firstly. Don’t forget to aim for a completely unrealistic time to be out of the house, say 9am, so that you can arrive at the pool flustered, exhausted, minus at least one towel, without any pants, and everyone is crying already.
- Be sure to leave it until ten minutes before you leave to realise that the only swim-wear you own is last year’s bikini… and that putting it on has reminded you exactly why you only wore it several hundred miles from anyone who could recognise you… So you’re feeling GREAT. And eating Toffee-Crisps until you stop recognising your own reflection…
- Also be sure that no matter what, you forget to bring a pound coin for the locker with you, because it’s always an extra layer of fun realising you don’t have one once everyone’s finally in their swim gear freezing their tits off.
- Once in the pool you’ll swiftly be reminded why last night’s red wine was a bad idea as you gag your way through the 35 degree, chlorinated wave session with 400 screaming 8-year olds who had doughnuts for breakfast…
- Whilst your primary concern is keeping your children’s faces above water at all times (especially given that most of the lifeguards haven’t yet hit puberty), it really should be the rogue section of vagina that has broken free of your ill-fitting bikini bottoms and is currently bobbing along in front of you across the surface. #justsayin
- Also – calling it swimming is false advertising… Your husband is mostly being used as a surf-board by your kamikaze toddler whilst frantically attempting to protect his testicles, and you’re bobbing an 18-week old baby through a sea of sugar-pumped kids trying to pretend you’re not panicking. Frankly, if you keep everyone alive it’s a win.
- Don’t forget to row with your husband about WHO THE F@*KING F@*K HAS THE LOCKER KEY. And blame him when you find it in your towel. Sorry – the only towel.
- Go for a nice relaxing coffee and a slice of cake afterwards, so the toddler can finally be pushed over the edge and explode in a snotty, teary, sticky mess on the cafe floor while everyone tuts…
- Once you’ve finally made it back to the car, drive around until everyone is asleep then head home for a little sob and a nap in the driveway. Always the sign of a beautiful family day out…
- Oh and lastly….? Don’t f@*king do it again next Bank Holiday. Instead, bring the iPad to the pub and take it in turns to cry into some wine while the children are distracted by the Apple-branded-babysitter like everyone-bastard-else.