The end of term looms, like a prison sentence. I love my children, I really do, but I see an awful lot of them as it is. The summer holiday means more and also endless catering. I project my own aimlessness and deep boredom of my own childhood summer holidays onto my children, even though I think they are perfectly content to just bum around. It is so triggering, though. I need to get a grip.
The only thing I can do to alleviate the anticipated stress of it all is to prepare. We are spending one week on the beach in Wales, one week in Devon and then one week - and I know this is mad - in Canada, on Vancouver Island.
The smartest thing that I started doing a few years ago was writing notes to myself while on holiday, in case I ever went back to the same place. Last year I reasoned I wanted to go back to the Welsh rented house we stayed in and I jotted down a few things for next time: own pillows, apron, rubber gloves.
I also wanted to adjust my beach kit. There is a fine line between too much and too little. There are those who set up entire villages complete with BBQs and kettles - they are there for the duration. Then there are those who arrive with a tea towel for bathing and no water. My husband is camp tea towel and I am edging towards Entire Village but I also know my children are capable of shrieking “When are we leaving?” five minutes after arrival, so I am wary of taking too much stuff.
Anyway here is my updated beach kit list for this year.
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