June 2013: Week 2

I suppose Week 2 can best be described as the week where the carbonite set in; everything from this week onwards is pretty blurry.

Having consulted 'The Gruffalo' family planner, I see that we went camping at the beginning of the week with friends of ours and I recall that this was a very happy experience. Looking at photos to confirm what happened 3 weeks ago, it is clear that James and Bethan are in their element when we go camping.

Although we seem to have taken 2 steps forward and 1 back with James as sleeping when we are camping is a problem; in that he doesn't.

When our little night owl is up and my arse is frozen like glue to the floor because our over-priced air bed deflates (always on my side. Should I be paranoid about my big arse causing the problem? If so, unlike the air bed, it doesn't come with a receipt so I can't return it. Unfortunately.),glamping doesn't seem glamorous and the comfort of my own bed beckons.

I recall, somehow, that the beginning of the week was somewhat hazy because of this lack of sleep. 

However, the epi-centre of my memory mistiness comes from the Tuesday of that week when we finally received the 'call'. In teacher-speak that means, 'Holy crap! Armageddon is about to begin as human clipboards come and see how good we are. Ahem. 

Yes, June 2013, Week 2 has a lot to answer for in terms of how inefficient my working memory was. Let's put it like this. A goldfish has more chance of recollecting what it did after a frantic lap of the bowl than I have of what happened the rest of the week.

The only thing I can remember is bring observed and saying something along these lines to the kids at the end of the lesson, "You'd better of learned something, otherwise I will need to get a new job". 

Clipboard Lady - 1

Me - 0

Note to self: Definitely need to consider getting a new job that involves using a clipboard.

Sunday 5th May 2013: Day Four: No visitors today, just us (eek!)

Today was the first day on the campsite where we four were glamping, sorry, camping alone. For the previous couple of days we have had some visitors and it was fantastic to see them as they really helped with "Stop! James" who had a penchant for pulling himself up onto the free-standing and slightly unstable, gas cooker.

One of my friends who came to visit, brought her beautiful little girl who has been friends with Bethan since they were about 6 weeks old. This particular friend who I met when the girls were still babies completely knows and understands the PTSD I suffered in those first few months following Bethan's difficult birth. I credit meeting her and the other 3 mothers that I also met at that time with helping me learn to laugh and relax around what I considered to be my sick baby.

Back to the campsite.

So, this friend is a Therapist and I was telling her about the difficulties that I thought I would have with my OCD whilst living in a tent on a campsite. Let's face it, campsites aren't known for their 5 star award rating for cleanliness and my knuckles were already cracking and bleeding from the amount of washing and cleaning I had done in the lead up to our camping expedition. Unfortunately, this need to wash my hands before layering on copious amounts of anti-bacterial gel in addition to cleaning door handles at every possible opportunity, stems from being institutionalised on a neonatal ward where the cleanliness has to be meticulous, especially around the premmies.

However, my friend praised me for going on the campsite with my baby and embracing the whole 'back to nature' thing (even though we had an electric fridge and heater, to me I was still heading 'back to nature'). She continued to say that it is good to get out of your comfort zone and build your confidence and the children will benefit from that confidence too.

I'm not even going to suggest for one minute that my OCD is cured as I was on pins about not being able to sterilise (even though James was eating soil sandwiches) but I started to become accustomed to the fact that you can't control everything and dare I say it; I started to relax! Watching Bethan and Rob relax (James kind of did but he was on a Dora and Diego mission to get to the gooey geyser most days; at one point he crawled and climbed through our picnic so he could get to the purple, plastic spoon) really helped and for the first time in about 20 months, I managed to read my 'Time' magazine from cover to cover in one sitting. However, we still brought the cordless Dyson; just in case.

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Camping Etiquette - the children's playground *9

*Rob said that I forgot to include this in my previous camping etiquette guide. When on the children's playground, know your place. Priority for the swings and co goes in the following descending order:

1. Recurring visitors to the campsite.
2. Age - the older you are, the more likely you are to be able to go on the swings and flirt with the other teenagers from Meadow 4 who you see each Bank Holiday.
3. Bog - standard young campers like Bethan and James. They didn't care as Beth loved running after the frisbee, bat and ball and plastic skittles that we had brought with us and James enjoyed eating them :-)

Saturday 4th May 2013: Days Two and Three: In the sunshine, in the rain and in the sunshine again

Days 2 and 3 'glamping' have been a bit blurry, stressful at times but overall a success.

One thing is for sure, the four of us living in such close proximity has meant that for the first time ever we have been able to spend quality time together. Additionally, the fresh air has given baby James a surge in energy. In fact the campsite thinks his name is "Stop James!" or "No James!" or "A.A.A!" (The sound (a) not the letter /a/ as in a triple A battery even though our son has demonstrated that he has more energy than that damn bunny).

I'm no camping virgin but I have learned quite a lot about camping etiquette. For example:

1. You must all let on to each other. If you don't you will be deemed "those rude buggers in that Colonel Gaddaffi size tent in the corner pitch".

2. There is a subversive glamping language a bit like the Freemasons use. For example, one couple were pitching their tent up and shouted across, "Good start to the season, eh?" Looking puzzled and thinking that the football season was coming to a climactic end, the husband pointed to the sky. It clicked! 'The season' on a camping field literally means a camping season.

3. Always mop the floor with the mop provided after having a shower. If not, the bleach blonde matriarchal figure who has many tattoos regarding her previous husbands sported around her arms and lives on pitch 2, will probably attack you with the aforementioned mop.

4. Be prepared for minor injuries and always bring age-appropriate plasters. Poor Rob has Peppa and George Pig plasters dotted all over him. This is mainly due to trip hazards around the tent. N. B. Also bring a big lighter to ignite the gas cooker as Rob has lost the feeling in his thumb using one of those cheap ones.

5. Don't position sibling's beds opposite each other as the resulting bundle, instigated by the younger and increasingly sparky sibling, will give their elder sibling a nosebleed.

6. Be prepared for the inevitable campsite hierarchy. The 'seasoned' campers, those in their caravans and us.

7. You might find yourselves in a tent that belongs in the demilitarised zone. To the right you have the family that blocked booked several pitches and includes a grandma on her electric scooter wrapped in a tartan blanket in 22oC heat who evidently loves John Denver blaring out at 10 pm. On the other you have George and Barbara who are from Chelmsford and have come for a quiet weekend in their caravan. The language missiles have been quite colourful.

8. Finally, enjoy the fact that there is absolutely nothing to do on a campsite but spend time with each other.

I dedicate this blog post to the memory of Rob's parents, Graham and Margaret Hillier; they have not been far from our thoughts this weekend. They were the ultimate Alpha Campers.

Friday 3rd May 2013: Day one in the tent

He-di-hi campers!

Yes, we the Hillier family, have finally made it camping. Well,'Glamping' actually-the negotiations that took place between Rob and I prior to the trip included making sure there was an electric hook up so I could straighten my hair. Which is ironic as I never actually get to do my hair at home. Plus, the fact that I can write this post with a very good 3G signal suggests that we are no where near a forest that harbours bears and things.

Unfortunately, we are more like Ted Bovis and Gladys Pugh than Bear Grylls the Chief Scout dude and that lovely Blue Peter presenter Helen who sailed down the Amazon in a canoe. Even the fancy fleeces that we are wearing, apparently a campsite fashion must, can't disguise the fact that we aren't seasoned campers.

Never mind! All that matters is that we 4 are here to spend quality time together!

Fortunately, we have managed to drag ourselves away from a ballroom lesson with Barry and Yvonne in the 'Club House'. For now, anyway.

We arrived yesterday afternoon at the campsite to a meadow and a pitch that was basked in sunshine; we were all alone and the smell of freshly cut grass made us feel that summer was finally attempting to show its face after such a grizzly winter. Immediately I fell for the romanticised depiction of camping.

That was until we started to put the 6 man tent up. Two and a half hours in the blazing heat and 2 very miserable young children later, we finally had our home for the next few days (don't even get me started on the awning).

If you ever find your relationship in crisis don't bother with expensive therapy. Get to 'Go Outdoors' immediately and buy the cheapest but more importantly, the biggest tent you can find. Two hours later, if you haven't impaled each other with tent pegs, it probably means that this one is for keeps.

Anyway, I didn't cook as I had anticipated. We had chippy from 'Fish'n'Chicken' and went to bed, wondering what our first full day would bring ...