Endurance test

That's what taking a two-and-a-half-year-old camping on your own amounts to. There are probably mothers out there who take it all in their stride. And there are probably two-and-a-half-year-olds out there who are unnaturally compliant, for two-and-a-half-year-olds.

So why do I do it? Just because. Because I like going camping and knowing that everything I need to survive fits into the car. (Ok, once upon a time it fitted into a rucksack but I can't carry a supply of nappies, breadsticks and full-fat milk as well as a two-and-a-half-year-old, especially with a new tattoo on my back which makes carrying the toddler in my customary fashion impossible for the moment anyway.) Because I saw the forecast for unexpectedly warm and sunny weather in September. Because I'd been wondering what we would do for those couple of gloriously free days. Because I like fresh air. And sea air. And the sea.

So why is it an endurance test? Because the two-and-a-half-year-old won't go to sleep until later than I'd have liked to have gone to sleep myself and still wakes up at 6.30am. At least now it goes dark at half-eight and not half-ten like the first time this summer I took him camping. Because he insists on climbing the steep, probably about 4ft high bank into another field. Because he tries to climb up the guy ropes. Repeatedly. Because he fills his pockets with shells, then empties them into the tent. Because he asks for milk, doesn't drink it, then wails for it the minute I've poured it away. Because he decided it would be a good idea to run his hands down the outside of the car, low down where it's really dirty, then ask for food. Repeatedly. Because he wouldn't sit and eat a meal but would decide half an hour later that he was hungry. Because he could never find the energy to get to the toilet block without being carried but was always sure he had enough energy to go to the play area. Because on the way to the toilet block he had to examine every patch of sand, every rabbit poo and every scrap of rubbish. Because every time we went to the toilet block he tried to flush the toilet while I was sitting on it, then tried to pull out all the toilet roll sheets while I was pulling my trousers up. Because he couldn't see the necessity of staying still to have a new nappy put on. Or to have his pyjamas replaced with clothes. Or his clothes replaced with pyjamas. Because if mummy's trying to have a few more minutes' rest in the morning, it seems like a good idea to kick her in the stomach. Or throw The Very Hungry Caterpillar in her face. Because he climbed onto my camping chair with wellies covered in mud from the molehill. Because I couldn't even put a beer down without him grabbing it. Because he refused to nap, despite his lack of night-time sleep, and therefore denied me my chance to nap.

Wow, it all sounds quite trivial. Of course, when it's coming at you relentlessly all day and some of the night too it's a bit much. And there are many, many little things I've missed out. But then, I suspect our camping trips are over for this year. And next year he'll be a different child throwing different challenges at me. Don't you just love the word challenge? In the way that it's replaced the word 'problem' as an acceptable way of describing children...