Sun, sea, sand

We've been on our hols, camping in Devon, the boy recovering from chicken pox. He enjoyed digging holes on the beach, lining up rocks and examining seaweed. But he didn't like the big waves, especially when mummy disappeared into them with nought but her cossie on. I expected him to wake with the dawn at 4am, but he actually slept til near seven every night, which I was so glad of. I've only camped with him for two nights at a time before, whereas this was six nights albeit with a friend to help out with the toddler-chasing activities. I'm feeling all refreshed in mind and spirit from the fresh air and sunsets, the rolling green hills and sea views. My body could still do with a month of early nights though.

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...

Getting away from it all

The little man and I have survived two nights' camping in Silverdale in north Lancashire. The rose-tinted, blogsville, let's look on the bright side version goes something like this:

• The weather was stunningly warm and sunny, which meant we got a fantastic view over the Lake District from the top of Arnside Knott.
• We did lots of little ambles, pottering through the woods, sauntering along the beach, finding empty snail shells, checking holly leaves for prickliness, tripping over tree roots and marvelling at butterflies.
• Little man particularly enjoyed the muddy beach at Arnside. Not only did he get to scoop up handfuls of mud and throw it into the incoming tide, but he also got to watch trains go over the long bridge over the Kent estuary. Boy bliss. I drew him pictures in the mud with a rock.
• We ate yummy proper ice cream, prompting his first ever demand to go to a 'shop'. I eventually realised he meant the cafe where we bought ice cream and played with their ride-on car.
• We had a hideously nutritionally deficient picnic mostly consisting of sausage rolls (from a craft bakery, of course!), crisps (the organic sort aimed at babies and toddlers for no reason I can actually fathom) and a satsuma. We sat on the picnic blanket in the dappled shade of some oak trees and watched squirrels scampering about. Little man is charmingly fond of going for a 'picpic'.
• There was plenty of space on the campsite for little man to run around, mostly without the usual worries about traffic or vicious dogs. He was very excited about the tent and kept going in it to play, despite the fact it must have been about 40C in there in the daytime.
• I feel like I've had a break just from being somewhere so beautiful and peaceful. I saw a little stone place called Woodwell Cottage where I could happily retire, right now, and spend my time knitting bobble hats and making wonky pottery jugs.

Obviously, there were some fairly significant negative aspects, mostly concerning sleep, or the extreme lack thereof. Also tantrums, the first proper kicking and screaming type ones (something tells me this is not unrelated to the previous point). And running away, not due to the innate desire to explore but due to the desire to disrupt whatever boring but essential task mummy's trying to get done, such as cooking dinner, washing up or packing the car. And cooking on little gas burners with a toddler about wasn't much fun either. I don't think I can adequately describe just how much harder and more exhausting it is being alone with a two-year-old in such circumstances.

But hey, I'd do it again. In fact my memory of the bad things is already fading, as it helpfully tends to. I quite fancy Rhosneigr on Anglesey and Eskdale in Cumbria. I just wouldn't recommend it to anyone else unless you, like me, have a ridiculous need to 'get away from it all' into the middle of nowhere every now and again, and you have the ability to sink into ever lower depths of knackeredness and frazzledness and somehow manage to carry on regardless.

Get me away from it all...

...now!

I've spent a large portion of the afternoon in work browsing, firstly, Scottish holiday cottages, and, secondly, reviews of the campsite next to Culzean Castle in Ayrshire.

I have come up with a daft plan that involves camping for three or four nights in a couple of weeks' time and a week at a cottage at the end of September. Anyone want to join me?

The first bit, the camping, is daft because it's the school holidays and I hate other people's children (people I don't know, obviously). If my child makes a noise, runs into other people's space and steals their footballs it's just his charming way of exploring the world and his abilities within it. If someone else's child does it in my vicinity then they're horrible tearaways who need to learn to think of others. Plus I have no idea if I can rope anyone else into coming with me and I can't put the tent up on my own, due to it being designed by men, or very tall women.

But the reviews of the campsite make it sound lovely. Google it. Sunsets, views, friendly, quiet sandy beaches.... and once you've fallen in love drop me a line and come with me.

Part two is the continuation of a half-baked plan I put to some friends a while back. My plan now is to just book somewhere big enough for two other families at a time and see who wants to come when. Again in south-west Scotland, probably. Alternatively Anglesey. Can you tell I still have my tax rebate and extra tax credits sitting in the bank? Good job my bank (that's smile.co.uk, ethical and everything) stopped those pesky fraudsters before they got to my hard-earned cash.

Can you tell I'm feeling more chipper at the very thought of going away even if it might mean camping alone with a 17-month-old? How do I shower? Cook? Relax? I think slings will come in very handy, but still... There's just something about being Out There. Away. Staring at the sunset.

Happy camping

The rules for camping with a one-year-old:

Don't go at the summer solstice and expect the child to sleep before 10pm or after 4am.

Don't try to put up a large tent on your own while the child runs off across the field.

Don't think that you can relax and sup wine in the evening while child sits quietly on your knee.

Don't expect the child to have a sense of self-preservation that stops them going near a lit gas burner.

Don't lie in bed freezing cold without summoning up the energy to get into your sleeping bag and under your duvet properly.

Don't expect to be able to go for a shower.

Do say sod it and go anyway.

Do accept offers of tent-erecting help from nice young gentlemen.

Do remember that you have your entire collection of slings in the car before you get the tent up.

Do take enough warm clothes for a cool evening and cold night, for you and child.

Do use far more baby wipes than normal for everything from cleaning the groundsheet to cleaning yourself.

Do have fun.

Do ignore all the rules.

It was very tiring and a lot of hassle to pack and unpack all the gear by myself. But hey, it was fun.

The time has come...

...for little man's first camping trip. Tomorrow we head to Silverdale for two nights. Tonight I should be clearing out the boot of the car and then packing it with useful stuff. I'll do it after this glass of wine. Honest.

The boot of my car is quite something to behold. It is absolutely full of junk. There is a big pushchair that I never use because I carry little man in a sling. And under and around that there are various items including: more slings, shoes, umbrella, toys, baby clothes that don't fit little man any more, maps, books, old sandwich wrappers, woolly hats, sun hats, fleece blankets, a witch's broom (daft Halloween one, not real one unfortunately), Makka Pakka, seashells, bags, shoeboxes, the odd newspaper...

Ok, I've just been out to clear it. There is an entire washing machine full of clothes - mine, his, winter, summer - a Bob the Builder DVD, the missing magnetic spindle from the shape sorter, a mouldy plastic food container, a Silver Cross pram umbrella (complete waste of money!) and a form to join Wigan Sure Start. Phew.

Now I've just got to fill it with useful stuff: new tent, check, new airbed, check, new pump, check, new camping table, check. What is the chance of having all of this new stuff and there being nothing missing or damaged?

On a completely separate issue, my emails from potential suitors now stand at three. I have decided that I will not tell you anything about them because that's just not fair. This internet dating thing does rely on a lot of trust that the other people aren't having a laugh at your expense.

Hijacked

I had such profound things to stay about stuff. And nonsense. And then... I got home from work just after eight and little man was still up, reading a book with grandma and resisting all attempts to get him to sleep. I managed to get him in his cot at 9.30 after going and lying down with him. This is the little fella I am going to take camping this weekend. He probably won't go to bed til late and will then wake up at the first sign of dawn and birdsong. Why am I taking him on his first camping trip on the weekend nearest to the summer solstice? It is now too late to tell you all my philosophical insights. And too late to feel like I've actually had an evening. I am going to bed.

What I wanted to write...

...was this: Imagine my surprise when I suggested to little man that an afternoon snooze would be a good idea and he curled up in bed with me and actually fell asleep!

Unfortunately, what he actually did was stand on my head, poke me in the eye, pinch my tummy, rattle the blinds and try to insert The Tiger who Came to Tea up my left nostril.

Let's just hope he sleeps tonight. Last night it was a 12.45am wake-up followed by a 6am start to the day. And of course I didn't go to bed as early as I knew I should. And tonight I don't even have any wine to help me wind down. Yes, I have run out again due to very poor grocery planning.

Ho hum. Still on the subject of sleeping arrangements my new tent arrived: http://www.terra-nova.co.uk/Brand/Wild_Country/Tents/Halo_43_Green_.html. So now I can go and sleep badly and be woken at dawn in the beautiful countryside.

Warning: whinge coming up

I have a sore throat, mouth ulcers and face ache. My DVD player finally died after being abused by little man, who liked pressing the open/close button. Little man himself only fell asleep at 9.3opm due to teething, heatwave and general midsummer madness. It is hot and I don't expect to sleep very well. I am not enjoying this ruby cabernet, it's too heavy and it's not helping my throat. I just googled glandular fever but I don't think I have it so I don't have an excuse to get lots of sympathy and afternoon naps. There have been kids shrieking at the tops of their voices all evening right outside my house. Because of little man's late night I haven't done any tidying up, even though had I known how late it would be I would have just left him to play and got on with things.

So I'm now going to think up some good stuff that happened today:
1. I got little man back from his daddy.
2. I made little man's botched homemade trousers into cropped trousers, thus hiding some of the cock-up and making him look well cool.
3. I spread the word about babywearing at a post-natal group.
4. Little man and I had our tea/dinner (delete as you like but at 5pm I don't think I can call it dinner) sitting outside on the patio.
5. I got invited to go camping in North Wales.
6. Little man and I got the giggles over the Stroke Henry book.
7. I inspected my salad seedlings and they're coming along nicely; I watered them with little man on my hip about an hour and a half after he should have been asleep.
8. I got three eggs.

Status updates

My status updates on a day without little man.

Janine:

- tried to have a lie-in but woke up at 6.30am with a funny throaty, hay fever, cold-type feeling.

- thinks the first cup of tea in the morning is one of life's simple wonders.

- had a bacon buttie. Because the bacon needed using up, of course.

- painted her toenails.

- discovered a new poet (Mary Oliver) thanks to slugsontherefrigerator.com.

- went to Slingmeet without a baby and tried the secure high back carry with a doll but ended up almost knocking the doll's head off.

- chatted to the Children's Centre lady who came to talk about choosing a nursery and came to the conclusion that nurseries are all part of the consumer capitalist conspiracy.

- saw a temperature reading on the side of a building in Preston that said 24C. And that was in the shade.

- proved to herself what she said a few posts back: the best way to avoid spending money is to avoid going into shops.

- bought herself some new sandals. (Yes I know I'm not consistent with this consumer capitalist hate thing.)

- filled up with petrol as she was on 346 miles since last fill-up and the petrol gauge doesn't work and she has been putting her foot down a bit.

- went to work and knitted some more rows of the first sleeve of the cardigan for little man and felt very hot knitting a chunky cardigan when the office air conditioning seemed close to breakdown due to the heatwave.

- also checked house prices in Runcorn and thinks she might be able to afford a two-bed terrace in need of modernisation if she could persuade anyone to give a mortgage to someone who doesn't have a proper job (and doesn't want one).

- texted STBE husband to see what little man has been up to and was pleased to hear he has been squirting himself with a hosepipe.

- would like to point out that she does actually do some work in between knitting and surfing the net but the nature of the work means you wait around quite a bit (for crap writers to write crap stuff that you then have to rewrite).

- saw a beautiful glowing sun sinking towards the Lancashire coast from the M6.

- got home at 9pm to discover she had left the freezer door slightly ajar at 10 o'clock this morning.

- took a picture of her new sandals before it got too dark and is perplexed at why her camera keeps taking video instead of photos when it's on the photos setting. But it is a several-years-old 4megapixel jobbie that was her STBE husband's before he decided he needed a nice new one.

- put the freezer on boost, warmed up some chilli, threw open the back door and poured herself a glass of wine.

- was disappointed on checking her dating site that noone has sent her a message.

- is listening to the blackbirds saying goodnight.

- should go to bed but doesn't really feel like it when she only got home from work at 9pm.

- really, really wants to go camping.

- is going to watch Robin Hood on iPlayer.

- thinks her long-life bulb's long life might be over.

- wonders if little man's new tooth will have come through yet.

Quiet please

Let's share a moment of peace and tranquility.....

Did you manage it? Or were there cars zooming by outside, dogs barking, aeroplanes overhead, music pounding, builders building, ice cream vans, the constant hum of a motorway in the distance.

I spent the weekend in a holiday cottage near Kendal where it is much quieter than at home. No traffic hum. Just birdsong, which doesn't really count as noise. (Unless it's that damn sparrow that woke me up at 5am last week.) It was also properly dark at night, no orange streetlight glow. I would love to live somewhere where night is night, where you can see the stars properly and notice the difference between moonlit nights and cloudy nights and stormy nights.

And so onto the next project: Little man's first camping trip. Sadly delayed until this year due to last year's marital issues. Now I just have to rope in a couple of friends with a large tent...