Before we had kids the prospect of going away for the weekend conjured up thoughts of relaxing lazy mornings, leisurely strolls, trips to the local restaurants and bars, and romantic evenings.
How things have changed.
We enjoy making the most of our weekends and getting out and about with the kids.
I never imagined however that merely surviving the weekend would feel like a massive achievement when you throw a baby and a toddler into the equation.
Returning home still talking to one another and without having filed for divorce deserves recognition of gold medal proportions in my book.
Here is a checklist of things the brochure didn't tell you to expect on a family weekend break:
• To arrive at your destination looking like you've travelled from the other side of the world when actually you've been in the car for a couple of hours.
•To resent the pitiful looks the hotel staff give your children when you are shouting at them to stop crying after you have just rudely awoken them from slumber in the car.
•To only get a few hours sleep because the toddler is too excited and the baby doesn't understand what's going on.
•To disrupt other people's breakfast when the toddler tips over the entire container of weetabix.
•To attempt to laugh it off when the baby nearly chokes on a piece of toast and you manoeuvre in to perform the heimlich.
•To tidy up the basket of potpourri the baby has tipped over his head.
•To be ready with the toddler's wooly hat in the cafe when he declares his tummy hurts and goes a very suspicious shade of green.
•To apologise to the hotel manager after the toddler pukes all over the bedding.
The plus side to all this is that when you become a parent your ability to cope with any form of curve ball thrown your way drastically increases.
Shit happens...
And often puke happens.
You get over it and get on enjoying the precious time with your babies.
Another weekend to remember.
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