Home Sweet Home

Hey ho!

We are back from Ibiza, safe and sound, or as sound as we have ever been, at any rate.

Ibiza = nice. Go there. It's good. If you want more info than that, stop faffing around on my blog and go and find a travel website.

The first thing I realised about travelling with a one-year-old is that you have to redefine your idea of a "holiday" somewhat. Holidays used to be a nice break, a lot of sunbathing, reading, eating, drinking, that kind of thing. This holiday was a lot more work than that. Apparently, it's not really a wise idea to get pissed and and lie around in the midday sun when you have a small child. And you have to entertain them too. As luggage space only permitted us to take about 7 toys with us, all of which she got bored with in about 20 minutes, we constantly had to play games of "Hit Mammy and Daddy in the chest", "Try and pull things out of the suitcase", and "Play with the bidet". It's been a long time since we had such concentrated, uninterrupted family time. Man, it's hard work! But it was also very lovely, and The Baby enjoyed it too and rewarded us by being lovely and smiley (despite growing some new teeth) for most of the week.

Being me, I did manage to get in a few good examples of Bad Mammy-ness such as...
- leaving her to troll around on the shiny tiled floor all the time. She only banged her head twice though.
- getting her a teensy bit sunburnt, despite the lashings and lashings of factor 50. She sustained an interesting burnt eyebrow, somehow.
- feeding her all the time, whenever I didn't know what else to do. That child has eaten her own weight in organic rice cakes.
- letting her eat loads and loads and loads and loads and loads of bad stuff. I knew I would have to drop my salt and additive paranoia for the week, and boy did I drop it. What she has eaten: chips, fish fingers, ham sandwiches, more chips, about half a mini magnum, more chips, about 10 loaves of bread, mint ice cream, hazlenut ice cream, ham and cheese toastie, mini cheddars, bits of croissant, more chips, some pizza that she didn't really like, caramel ice cream and much more. What she has not eaten: anything of any nutritional value whatsoever.
- making no effort whatsoever to put her to bed at a reasonable hour, instead taking her to see a parrot show at 10pm.
- not realising for a few seconds that the thing she was playing with while we waited for our dinner was in fact a steak knife.

But who cares, eh? We had a lovely time, and that's all that matters. Now to try and get her used to being home again. Where Mammy doesn't play with her all day and take her to splash around in the pool, but faffs around on the laptop and only gives snacks at pre-appointed times. Poor Baby.