Look away now if you are travelling abroad with a toddler anytime soon…
Sebastian has been abroad 3 times in the past 29 months. Aged 5 months, 24 months and last week. The previous 2 trips he was a absolute dreamboat so after winning a holiday with Sol Hotels, I decided to take my lovely mother away for a relaxing break to spend some quality time with moi and said Grandchild. We packed our bags and headed over to the Sol Pelicanos Ocas in Benidorm. I know what you are thinking. Benidorm? Why? Forget everything that you associate with the place… rowdy brits aboard on mobility scooters. Thats only 20% of the resort. The rest is quintessentially Spanish.
So our 5 ‘relaxing’ days went a little something like this…
A sunset evening stroll on the beach resulted in him throwing wet sand at two women wearing white dresses, him face planting the sea and us going back to the hotel with a flannel covering his modesty because we didn’t come prepared.
I wasn’t allowed to touch him. May it be a gentle caress of his cheek, a loving hand hold, a babywipe to the bottom, some suncream to his arm. Whatever I ‘touched’ I was greeted with a firm ‘NO!’ ‘That’s my arm’. ‘That’s my bottom’.
He wanted to go home because that’s where the bin truck was. He would ask daily when we were ‘going gnome’.
He didn’t want his photograph taken because it’s naughty. He would repeatedly shout this at every photo opportunity. Any photo I did manage to get wasn’t instagram worthy because I either look shit because I was sooo bloody knackered or he’s pulling a face.
He ate crap. His diet consisted of the beige variety. Chips, Crisps and Potatoes. Along with apples and Ice Cream. He ‘didn’t like’ anything else.
He didn’t want to get dressed. Ever.
Jumping is his new favourite thing. On the bed, in puddles, on the sun lounger, on top of the slide. Anywhere that could cause him an injury he would jump.
He’s a tornado when off the leash. He is off as fast as you can say ready, steady, go. There was no chance that we were setting up camp on the absolutely packed beach. Breakfast was like an episode of ninja warrior.
His new favourite thing is ‘schwimmin’ and splashing elderly ladies who were lucky enough to have a siesta at the poolside.
We wanted to be carried in 30 degree heat. Who needs to gym when you have a nearly 3 stone toddler to squat with… along with carrying a backpack and pushing a buggy up a steep hill.
He does not sit still on an aeroplane. Ever. And shouted boobies at the top of his lungs mid flight.
Did we have a good time? Of course we did but it wasn’t a ‘relaxing holiday’. I hardly touched my book, had a siesta or got a tan!
Thank god for ‘Mummy juice’ on the trip home! Next time Daddy is coming too!