I’ve not blogged for a while and it feels a little strange dipping back in. Like coming back from the school holidays when your bag used to feel a little alien and you had butterflies walking through the gates.
But oh what a summer hols I’ve had. We’ve been in the South of France on a fabulous family holiday with my boys plus my parents. It was great in so many ways; firstly my parents have a house out there so it was cheap. Secondly we had a ratio of four adults to one child – something I will dream about for months to come.
The subtleties of family dynamics were in full swing with my dad taking the role of ( very cuddly) Sargent major, my mum cooking and washing my pyjamas when we arrived because she said they looked grey… The independent working mum in me should have been frustrated and wholly outraged at this descent into teenager. But the truth is it was bloody lovely!
When ever do you get to relinquish all control, to know everyone will be looked after and no one, really no one is actually relying in you for anything. I even managed to finish a book in record speed.
It was like being wrapped in a big ole, hot sunny blanket. I did cook once and it was met with the kind of praise dished out to royalty when they shuffle a pan or use a spade during an official engagement.
Arthur had an amazing time but my only slight worry was today, when we were on the way to the park he said: ” mummy I hope there will be no other children on this park except granny and papa.” I guess there is a down side to the four adults one child ration, but he’ll get over it. Not sure I will.