The Family Holiday. Part 1.

So, we recently (and madly) uprooted the kids and flew to the old Gold Coast for a family holiday.

We had decided that we were sick of being cold, and that we needed some immediate sunshine on our heads, some sand up our cracks, and some nights of non-sleeping. Well, except for that bit, sigh. We probably could have done without that bit. That bit was shit.

However this is how the holiday went.

Day 1. Saturday.

We flew out of Melbourne to the GC (which is what all the cool kids call it these days, right?) early Saturday morning. We had so much hope in our hearts. And so much luggage in our hands.

We were all so excited, and both the babe and the wee man busily charmed the absolute pants off everyone around us, including the flight attendants. It was great. They got us extra cookies on the Qantas flight. #TheyAreTotallyMyKidsLol

 

We landed without a single tear (woohoo!), picked up our hire car and started the journey to our hotel in the heart of Broadbeach.

We stayed at Synergy Apartments in a lovely self-contained two bedroom apartment which overlooked both the pool below and the ocean a few blocks back. And a construction sight mind you, but that didn’t bother us. It did mean however that there was no nudie book reading to be done on the balcony as we didn’t want to terrify the local tradies.

That first afternoon we went exploring. We walked to the local shopping centre – Pacific Fair – and spent a good chunk of time locating the perfect pair of thongs for the hairy bearded one. Luckily, we found them, just in time for us to walk along the beach… Because I am pretty sure that it is illegal to go to the beach in fully closed shoes. Nope. Don’t do it.

The kids were sleeping in the same bedroom which was bloody terrifying for us. We had no idea if they were going to sleep ok, or if it meant that we would turn into sleep-deprived zombies before the holiday was through. Spoiler : it was a bit of both.

They went to sleep perfectly that first night, which left the hairy husband and I high fiving each other on the couch. But the wee man woke up around 2:30am because he had forgotten that sleep equals happiness.

The husband was a legend and got up to “settle” the mini man, however that just involved loads of forcefully whispered “go the frick to sleep”, and loads of grumpy non-whispered replies of “no!” before the defeated bearded one brought the mini sleep stealer into the bed with us to get through the rest of the night in one piece. Mind you, the husband almost lost an eye by the little mans wild fingers as he snuggled into his daddy’s beard for comfort.

Day 2. Sunday.

Fark me. So tired. We dragged our sorry asses out of bed, and we got ready for a fun-filled visit to Carrara Markets.

It was hot. I loved it.

We then wandered around looking at old band t-shirts and half faded toys that were produced sometime in the 80’s before deciding to find somewhere for breakfast. We finally found somewhere that produced epic waffles for the wee man and settled down.

I was so glad to be sitting down, and I felt so much love run through my heart. Aaaah, this is the life. I then looked at the babe, and she smiled sweetly at me. So sweet in fact, that I immediately suspected that she was sitting in the warmth of an epic poo. I was right, as the smell then invaded my nostrils.

The couple sitting next to us quietly coughed and then got up and moved to finish their breakfast inside. I don’t blame them. I would have liked to have joined them lol.

However, I got up and hauled her out of her chair and back to the car to deal with her stinky bum in the boot of our car.

The toddler decided that MUST come with us, or it would have been the end of the world. So I managed to balance them both and the nappy bag on my body (which mind you is bloody heavy) and stress sweat my way out of the markets to the car. I left the nappy in the car to really fester in the sunlight once I had finished changing her stinky bum, and we headed back to finish our breakfast.

We headed back to the hotel not long after and went for a swim in the hotel pool. It was kind of cool, but we refused to get out because damnit we were on holidays.

The mini man showed off his excellent cannonballing skills and then he and his sister decided to try and see who could drown the other one by splashing so much that no-one could breathe. We almost ALL lost that game.

Once we got out we went for a massive walk to Surfers Paradise. Well, almost. The baby couldn’t sleep in the stroller we had brought because she couldn’t get comfortable, so as the walk went on her rage increased until she couldn’t do anything else but cry. For hours. Fark.

So, to make her feel better (cough, I mean to make US feel better), we took the tram home and got some ice cream on the way. The babe had never had ice-cream before, because, well…she is a baby. But she looked so sad, that i just gave her a few mouthfuls. She loved it and kept dragging my hand towards her mouth when there was ice cream on the spoon. I know how she feels. #SOML #FoodMakesMeHappyToo

We were a little more sceptical when putting the kids to bed that night, however we hoped to the gods of alcohol that we could get through the night ok.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha. We were so funny.

Day 3. Monday.

The baby woke up at 4:30am in a rage. She cried. She woke the boy up. He cried.

I heard them crying. And I cried. Not really, but I wanted to lol.

I went into the bedroom to try to settle the two of them, but I soon realised that I was not an octopus, and that I had to basically get whiplash to try and settle the boy on my left, as well as the girl on my right AT EXACTLY THE SAME TIME. “Ssssshhh” “Ssssshhh” “Ssssshhh” “Ssssshhh”. Ouch.

So tired. Much grumpiness.

At 5am, the baby fell back to sleep, but the boy did not, so I took him into our bed again… Because if I couldn’t sleep, no-one could. Sorry husband.

It was raining today and was only 19 degrees, so not really beach weather. Or pool weather. Or anything weather really. So we went back to Pacific Fair and prepared ourselves to be entertained by all of the shiny things there.

We took the kids to their very first gaming experience at a place that was kind of like “Timezone”. We let the mini man hop in the gaming seat of the different video games available and let him touch all of the levers and buttons. He thought he was doing so well playing the games, and we totally agreed. He was so proud. The thing we didn’t tell him though, was that we hadn’t put any money in the machines and what he “thought he was doing” was actually just part of the demo playing on a loop. We were such assholes.

We then took the kids bowling. Or more specifically, three of us went bowling, and the wee babe sat there and watched us with no idea where we were or what we were doing. She instead tried to eat her own feet.

That night we went out for an early dinner. We hadn’t done it yet as we just hadn’t gotten around to it yet weirdly. And it was traumatic. We chose a yummy restaurant that we had taken our son to a couple of years prior and sat there sweating as the kids lost their tiny minds. Throwing things, squealing, and refusing to eat their dinner. Well, in fairness the restaurant forgot the babies dinner entirely so we stuffed her with hot chips (parenting fail) and cucumber, and she proceeded to choke on the lot of them. And the toddler had developed two ulcers under his tongue so cried every time anything entered his mouth (except for jam and ice-cream mind you).

The husband and I stuffed ourselves with our (yummy) food and got out of that place quicker than you could ask if our bums were on fire. I am surprised we didn’t receive a round of applause on the way out actually.

Once the kids went to bed we realised that we were so traumatised, that we would never be going out for dinner again.

…

Was that realistic? 

Stay tuned for Part 2, and find out…