So we’re coming to the end of Poppy’s first holiday. Saturday night we fly back to cold, wet England and back to reality.
Rob goes back to work which means I’ll be back to the 5pm fatigue where I wait impatiently for him to get home and entertain Poppy since she’s fed up with me and I’m desperate to have a) a wee b) a shower c) a hot cup of tea.
No more gentle strolls down to the harbour side, sitting by the sea with a bowl of chips and a jug of sangria whilst Poppy watches pigeons strut along the sand.
No more late night meals at the steak house sharing a giant mixed grill, more sangria while Poppy tries to eat the menus and grab all forms of cutlery and tableware to go crashing all over the floor.
No more morning coffees at the local deli, sharing a mini Danish pastry whilst the waitresses coo over Poppy in her holiday garb.
But why? Yeah, the weather is a bit different but we’re not going back to a different universe...
Why can’t we still enjoy the laid back approach that being on holiday provides?
Being away has made me realise I probably need to chill out a bit.
There’s no reason we can’t go out for a meal at 8 o’clock on a Saturday night and take Poppy with us. She doesn’t HAVE to be asleep by 7 o’clock and me and Rob tiptoe round the house until we go to sleep.
We haven’t done that for two weeks and guess what?
She’s been fine. In fact, she’s loved every single second of it.
Ok, you get back to the day to day chores and responsibilities. First port of call on Sunday morning is Sainsburys followed by multiple loads of washing that will no doubt end up hidden in various piles in the spare room for a week or so.
But being away has definitely shown me that it’s OK to just go with the flow or “play it by ear” as my father-in-law keeps saying.
It’s actually a lot more fun this way.