We've been back a week [make that two since I started writing this] - I've just about thawed out.
We did survive and we did get to sleep.
I put up the tent with a bit (read a lot) of help. Mr Jones arrived after the tent was safely up - I'm thinking this was a good thing - it was stressful, divorce proceedings may have been entered into.
I ripped my skinny jeans in the process and spent an entire evening with my bum hanging out until Mr Jones arrived with another pair. Fetching. ALso probably a sign that I'm not skinny enough to wear skinny jeans??
The boy went to sleep without the aid of a blackout blind and total silence and with just a little bit of singing from me. He slept until 6.20am on Saturday morning - pretty impressive given that Mr Jones and I got a maximum of 4 hours sleep due to a combination of bone chilling temperatures, noise and an errant airbed that pinged one of us off the edge everytime the other one moved.
We managed not to get grumpy until Sunday morning - when it really was unbearably cold and wet and the boy was beyond grouchy and I was sick of my clothes living in a damp pile on the floor. If I ever go camping again I'm going to take one of those collapsable clothes rails from argos - or am I missing the point? It's only one step on from the toaster we took this time - what? there was electricity why not take a toaster? Some folk in the tent next-door-but-one had a 32" flat screen tv and Wii - you think I'm joking, but I seriously am not. (Really what is the point in going camping if you take your TV?)
I'm sure everyone else thought we were perfectly awful, but I was rather proud of us for surviving the weekend. We clearly are not campers. I think I'd find any holiday where you're required to build your own house before you start a mite stressful. Perhaps I'm more suited to one of those yurt things on the south downs with the cast iron beds and the en suite bathrooms. Or actually if I'm honest I'm just terribly boring and would actually like to stay in my lovely house and hang out in the garden. I wish I got it, I really do.
That said, we did enjoy time with friends and it was lovely to see how much our littlies have grown and how comfortable they all are with each other.
Aside from the knowledge that we aren't the camping kind, we learned that the boy hates wellies, but loves rain storms. He is fascinated by cars and has a penchant for brake dust (carcinogenic - no?). He doesn't like having a bath in the shower and still loves kissing Miss Scarlett.
We'd probably do it again at a push - but only for a weekend.
PS there are pictures but writing this has taken me two weeks - the pictures might take longer.
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