The Only Way to Essex

Summer holidays are hard work.  Any Mum who tells you otherwise is a big fat liar.  (I realise as I write this that it is actually only Day 3 of the summer hols and my parents had the kids for the majority of Day 1.......)  Zak is a very different kid to Sebi.  During term time Seb and I can quite happily potter around the house all day if need be and as long as he gets his hour of Thomas, (ok, two hours of Thomas, why does everyone lie about child-TV watching time - judge away) ,at lunchtime he is a happy chap.  Zak is an action-packed whirlwind who needs activity followed by activity with a lot of feeding and watering in between.  Therefore there is no hope of a nothing day, ever, in the summer holidays it is go, go, go!

I decided at the beginning of the week that we were going to go to the coast for the day today.  The boys were absolutely beside themselves with excitement yesterday and we dutifully went out and bought a cool box, then we went back out and bought the ice blocks to go in them (how was I to know that a cool box wasn't just naturally cool inside?).  You may note from all this that I was a little unprepared for this adventure. I don't normally do picnics you see because of the wasp-factor but I think that all the rain this summer has drowned the evil black and yellow buggers in their nests so I was willing to change my ways for one season only.

I then didn't sleep well last night, partly due to the heat and partly due to some very exciting news I received yesterday which I can't tell you about because it's a secret.  I'm dreadful at keeping secrets (never trust me with anything) so please don't ask me again because I will definitely blab.

So I woke up this morning being less than enthusiastic about trekking to the beach. There was no backing out now however and all was well until we hit the bottle neck that leads towards the Essex coast.  Apparently lots of other people had thought that visiting the beach on the hottest day of the year so far was a  good idea too.  Apparently lots of other people had thought they would wait until rush hour was over and aim to get there about 11 too.  It took us an hour to travel the last five miles - HIDEOUS.  The boys were great, considering, but Zak did tell Sebi "It's not really Mummy's fault" whilst giving the back of my neck daggers - the child has mastered sarcasm too young.

We had a lovely day.  Although, 'day' is probably a bit of an exaggeration.  By the time we had got there and back, parked, done a few nudey rudey changes on the street (the boys, not me) and done a few toilet stops, I reckon we had about two and a half hours on the beach.  Oh and to the stupid cow who shot me a filthy look as my sand-ridden blanket dared to brush past her beautifully (fake) tanned forearm as I tried to manage two small boys weeing in a tiny toilet cubicle - fuck right off.  I used to look just like you ten years ago and you will look as harassed and sweaty as me in ten years time by which time I will have come out the other side (ish) and be drinking champagne on Costa del Essex watching my teenage boys hide their hard ons as they walk past bikini-clad ladies on the beach.  Let's see if Zak announces as proudly that his willy is full of sand then....