Last weekend the kids and I took a break from limping towards half term to join a big group of old friends at a holiday house in Frinton-on-Sea, Essex. The house was incredible – huge rooms, loads of space for the kids to run riot (which they did), and best of all it you could see the beach from the front garden. The weather was kind, the company was excellent and the fresh air was just what we all needed.
I looked.. at blue skies, amazing cloud formations, Fonz up to his waist in the sea, the gorgeous colours of the beach huts lined up along the seafront, a friend’s kite soaring in the sky.
I listened.. to the kids sleeping (and waking too early) in our shared room, to friends’ news, to lots of laughter, and to the brilliant conversations between my two and the other children.
I pondered.. how hard solo parenting is, even when you’re surrounded by supportive mates. And I obsessed about whether there was anything I could have done differently when Fonz had one of his most impressive tantrums ever on the quiet and refined Frinton-0n-Sea high street (answer: there wasn’t). And I love that my only solo visits to the high street were for a bottle of gin on Saturday evening and a black coffee on Sunday morning.
Frinton-on-Sea – you may not want us back again (!), but I promise you we won’t be able to stay away.