Wednesday, 26 May 2010

A Child Free Haven - of a fashion

Well, that was the weekend we've been looking forward to since 9 February this year. For the first time, we left junior with the grandparents and headed off into the hills, child free and care free. Apart from the very slight issue that I am currently with child, thus making me somewhat less care free. But, nevertheless, leaving our son for the first time was surely going to be magical? Lie-ins until 10am, perhaps a jaunt down to the spa, a romantic dinner without worrying about getting back for the babysitter? Surely, the world was our oyster. Or so I thought.

When we received the wedding invite, stating clearly that CHILDREN WERE NOT INVITED, I actually shouted out in joy. The first thing I did was book the hotel. Then, of course, I called the parents to ensure they'd be happy to help out - of course, we would have taken him if we could... (yeah, right. Trying to control a one year old while everyone else gets drunk - I think not).

And then, bring on the plans. Or, more realistically, the just bring on the idea of something to look forward to. Imagine my disappointment, then, when I discovered the hotel did not have a spa. No matter, I rallied, there is at least a swimming pool. Naturally, being preggers, I can't use the jacuzzi, but a few laps in the pool will set me up. Wrong. The pool was the size of a postage stamp. And the jacuzzi was broken. So even the husband was put out.

We carried on, going out for dinner in the delightful Watford (I didn't even know that it was appropriate to wear knickers out and pretend they are shorts - pure genius. I must put Vogue in touch with the residents). We both discussed how much we were looking forward to lie-ing in - no need to get up and no responsibilities. Imagine my horror when I woke up at 6.30 and could not get back to sleep. But 8am, I was waiting for the breakfast restaurant to open - what hotel doesn't start serving breakfast until 8.30am? Not exactly the leisurely morning I'd anticipated.

Saturday was, of course, a beautiful, hot sunny day. I was loving it. So were all the guests drinking copious amounts of champagne 'to quench their thirst - naturally'. By the time we sat down for dinner, most people were merrily on their way. I was becoming increasingly bored with lime and soda. (Of course, I did have a couple of glasses, but no where near enough to keep up with everyone else.)

By 10.30 I was exhausted - well, I had been up since 7 and I didn't have the wine coat on that always sees me through any tired lulls. By 11pm I decided to call it a night. After all, we'd have to be up early to make sure we got to my parents at a decent hour - it's not fair to leave the little guy with them all day.

On Sunday morning, we were up and had had breakfast before the majority of the wedding party surfaced. I hear that they partying went on long into the night - my first thought is that I'd have been knackered for the whole week if I'd stayed up until 3am.

An enjoyable experience? Absolutely. But the return to my young and care free days BC (before children)? I think not. It's official. I am a parent. And actually, I quite like it.

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