Tropical Paradise Holiday

So off we went. Our first tropical holiday in years. Our first ever as a family of four.

We coped with the 5am start. We mostly coped with the first six hours of our seven-and-a-half hour journey, thanks to drugs (for the baby, not us), an in-flight bassinette, and individual in-flight screens which Master Six loved.

Then the baby woke.

If you're a parent, imagine your child at their very worst. Then imagine holding them in your lap while they do it. For an hour, maybe more.

Okay, we won't talk about that.

Our destination was indeed a tropical paradise, with fancy-wancy five-star hotel and super-friendly staff. None of which made any difference when Baby decided she wouldn't sleep anywhere except her own cot back in Christchurch.

We soothed her. We ignored her. We tried feeding her up. We fed her so much she should've doubled her body weight. She should've slept like a… well, a baby.

She didn't. She woke every two hours, all night. EVERY night. For TEN NIGHTS. We ignored her some more. We decided the neighbours would kill her (or us). We ssshed her until we couldn't dredge up another bloody sssh.

Sleep deprivation is a horrible thing. It takes away the sparkle in your eyes, the glow in your skin and, ultimately, your will to live.

Master Six had a fantastic holiday. Why? Because, God knows how, he slept through our nightly hell, woke refreshed each morning and had a great time at Kids' Club.

Myself and my beloved? We paid somewhere in excess of $NZ6000 to lose the will to live. Then flew back without the luxury of baby bassinette. (It went to some tiny days-old scrap of baby who couldn't even roll, let alone create havoc.) We arrived home with bad necks, bad backs, bad moods and a baby who had decided life worked pretty well at two-hour intervals.

The moral of the story: just don't bother. Wait until your kids are five. Better still, make them save for their own damn holiday. In the interim, buy a bottle of non-duty-free, set up a deckchair in the lounge, and drink yourself silly so you don't feel the chill when you strip down to your swimwear.

The Lure Of A Holiday...

We could all do with a holiday; I know that. But I needed one urgently. I started obsessing about it. If I didn't get a holiday I'd… what? Throw tantrums? (already doing that) Go mad? (already there) Turn axe-murderess? (hmm, now, there's a thought…)

Would it be murder or a holiday? I took the holiday option and booked flights quickly, before my partner or bank manager could disagree. Hell, I didn't want to be responsible for any wayward axes.

Besides, I'd seen the magic words. CHEAP AIRFARES. I couldn't resist. It sounded too good to be true. Which - I know, I know - usually means it is… A minor detail I forgot in the heat of the moment.

(In my defence, it was the lure of the tropical holiday, with added enticements of Kids Club and babysitting services, that did it. I was desperate. You know I was. Remember my blog about our abortive Christmas camping holiday?...)

So I've learned a few lessons.

First Lesson: book a PACKAGE deal. Accommodation as well as flights. Cheap flights are great, but only if you have somewhere to stay when you get there.

Second Lesson: once you've paid for your holiday, expect an unexpected, unavoidable expense. A LARGE unexpected, unavoidable expense. That way you won't assume the cosmos hates you or it's karma for being an axe murderer in a past life or the government's conspiring to bankrupt you. You'll know it was just part of the plan.

Third Lesson: if you want a no-risk holiday, don't take one. The week you're due to leave there WILL be a nasty international plane crash, there WILL be a tsunami warning in your destination, and there WILL be a typhoid outbreak, too.

Fourth Lesson: if you really want a holiday that leaves you relaxed and rejuvenated, DON'T TAKE THE KIDS. Why? Read my next post to find out!

Hints For Campers With Kids

1   DON'T be casual about departure time. Packing ALWAYS expands to take up all available time + twenty percent.
2   DON'T assume thick black clouds on horizon won't come your way. They will. Thick black clouds = rain. Rain = misery for five-year-old over-excited campers.
3   DON'T assume swiftly-moving thick black clouds will bypass campsite. They won't. They'll just arrive fast. Swiftly-moving thick black clouds = wind + rain. Wind + rain = bad news if erecting tent and minding over-excited five-year-old and fretful baby simultaneously.
4   DON'T take mobile phone with only one blip of battery left. It won't last the day, let alone the trip.
5   DON'T believe you'll survive without your mobile phone. You won't. You're addicted and needy, just like all those pesky Generation whatever-they-are's.
6   DON'T use five-year-old son's new Transformer mug as handy vessel to transport hot water in. So what if it's handy? It's a TRANSFORMER mug = magnet to son.
7   DON'T forget location of nearest cold water supply. IF son burns himself you need readily available cold water. Especially if it's your fault (see 6 above).
8   DON'T assume you'll sleep longer than 40 minutes in one stretch during night; not if you have six-month-old baby with you, anyway.
9   DON'T believe (even for a moment) that baby needs to adjust to your life. Forget  articles and expert opinions. Baby doesn't need, or want, to go camping. Baby doesn't need, or want, to sleep in portacot or tent, to play on hard ground, to amuse herself, to enjoy outdoors or experience weather extremes. Baby doesn't enjoy sand or grass. Baby doesn't enjoy camping. Get it?
10  DON'T expect five-year-old son to eat anything cooked over camping stove. Five-year-old son doesn't like change. He doesn't like charred, or even mildly-blackened, potatoes or sausages. He doesn't like anything that looks different. He doesn't want to expand his food repertoire. He doesn't intend to be less fussy just because he's camping. Son would rather starve.
11  DON'T decide starvation is fitting punishment for son. Son disagrees. And soon, when son's blood-sugar levels get low enough, you will observe carnage and also disagree.
12  DON'T conclude camping is bad idea. Kids will look back on these days with fondness. You will recall sleep deprivation and hard work. Kids will recall endless summer days of trampolining, cycling and playing with friends, long evenings spent playing instead of sleeping, long nights feeling cosy in tent as wind whipped through trees outside.

Oh, the joys of camping!