Yesterday, I packed the car with everything we might conceivably need for a 2-day stay and realised for the first time (hey - I don't get away much!) that packing for 2 days with 2 kids, is really quite similar as packing for a month with 2 kids.
It's true.
I used to get away with nought but a weekend bag for this sort of trip. This time, I had a suitcase, a duffel bag, a basket, and a Coles green-bag filled to the brim. The back of my SUV was so chockers the poor labrador had to hold his breath the whole way!
I arrived with the two kids, the dog, and my excess baggage. After unlocking everything (my dear parents-in-law's property is like Fort Knox, seriously I reckon you'd have a better chance of breaking into Alcatraz!) I set about unpacking and getting dinner ready for the kids. At 6pm, we set about putting the kids to bed, as usual. Elliott in the port-a-cot in one bedroom, Fern in sharing the big-bed with mummy and daddy in another room for a treat.
But things went awry fast. To be fair, I managed to get Fern to sleep fairly quickly (I hung her bright pink Dora the Explorer dressing gown over the bedside lamp and called it a night-light. Ingenious?!) but Elliott? He sobbed. And sobbed and sobbed. It wasn't his bed. And mummy had forgotten to pack flatout-bear. I offered a soft blankie. An alternate teddy. A wool beanie. GET REAL he would have screamed, if only he knew how. The sobs turned to screams.
So much for maxi-packing.
I contemplate returning home for Flat-out bear.
Dan and brother-in-law end up driving to brother-in-law's to borrow nieces flat-out bear.
At about 8pm, Elliott finally goes to sleep.
3am-4.30am. A blurry haze of musical beds... including me and Elliott on the couch. Fern in my bed. Fern in Elliott's bed. Elliott in my bed. The stuff nightmares are made of.
Morning. Fern is screaming because she wants HER Flatout Bear. I drive home. Retrieve Flat-out Bears. Return to incredibly relaxing and enviable country property. Put kids in bed for a lovely peaceful afternoon sleep.
Elliott screams. Fern screams. Neither of them drift off to sleep.
Realise I should also have packed my 'too-hard' basket. Decide to call a Mayday and attempt a crash landing. Retrieve Fern from her position behind the bedroom door. Retrieve Elliott from his portacot. Pack all our belongings, the dog and two children into the car to the symphony of wails from sonny-boy who does not want to be put down. For a second. Journey home.
Unload belongings, dog and children back into my own house.
Are you envious yet?
And of course, the moment we stepped through the front door, both kids sparked up like firecracker night and spent the next two hours playing happily together. They both went off to sleep, happy and exhausted at 6pm.
KIDS.
It wasn't all bad, of course. Fern and I did manage to board the John Deere tractor-thingy and tear about the property this morning, looking at horses and flowers and sheep. And play in the Autumn leaves. And it was nice to get away for a night, even though it wasn't the night we might have envisaged! But there is no place quite like home, is there?
Just ask my kids.
Have you ever had an enviable-holiday-turned-nightmare with YOUR kiddies?
x
