Down the big slide

 It’s fair to say that I don’t blog as often as I’d like to. 

There’s lots of reasons for this, and one of the lamest is not taking enough of the ‘right type’ of photos to put in my posts. I take lots of photos – like many mums probably too many – but just not enough of the ones that feel good enough and nice enough to sit on the top of a blog post.

It can be easy to get trapped behind the camera, forgetting to enjoy the moment because you’re too busy trying to capture it.  And sometimes you’re just too busy watching the scene unfold before you to think to grab the camera and capture it.

A couple of months ago now we were up in Aberdeenshire for a few days for a friend’s wedding, and spent a slightly hungover post-wedding morning exploring the fabulous Duthie Park in Aberdeen. The wedding itself had taken place in the Winter Gardens there so we thought it would be nice to have a proper look around and check out the playgrounds while we were there.

The girls got stuck straight in with Daddy whilst I nipped back to the car to pick up something I’d forgotten.  Crossing back over the car park, Tunnocks Caramel Wafer halfway into my mouth (a freebie from the hotel room – I’m all class), my stomach gave a lurch that wasn’t hangover induced.

A small figure was sliding towards me at a rapidly increasing speed, straight down the (not even exaggerating) 30 foot long slide on the hillside. Hey, it could even be 40 foot – I wasn’t measuring it and for once Google doesn’t seem to know, so in the absence of evidence to the contrary I think we can all agree that it was at least 50 foot long.

Ok so now I’m exaggerating, but you get the idea. It was a big slide, far too big for a one year old to be conquering on her own.

With visions of a crumpled, battered toddler screaming at the bottom of the slide I lurched towards it to rescue her. Only she was none of the above.  I’d go as far to say she was quite pleased with herself, albeit a little surprised by the extent of the ride.

Daddy insists that he was trying to get onto the slide with her on his lap, the sensible father way. And knowing how she can contort herself to get out of your grasp when she has her mind on something I can believe it. 

Suffice to say we’re staying away from excessively tall slides for a while, and there was no photographic evidence of the event.  Instead the picture shows her reprising her stunt on a far more appropriately sized slide a few days later.

The incident clearly hasn’t put her off slides just yet.

Camping out

We’re doing lots of little holidays this year. It’s nice being able to spread out the anticipation and the fun, and the glorious weather we’ve been having makes it ok that they’re all in the UK.

Last week we went on C’s first camping trip. G is already a fan of camping, and of course knows all about it thanks to Peppa Pig (who says kids don’t learn anything from TV!). And I have to admit, although I never thought I’d say it, I’m a convert. You won’t find a hotel where the kids can run off and make friends to play with before you’ve even unpacked your bags.

Last weekend was slightly different in that we weren’t on an official campsite. A very good friend of mine had organised a wakeboarding weekend in Oxford – a return in fact to the site of her hen do which I helped organise a few years back. We’d arranged to camp overnight at the water sports centre which was perfect.

Sadly (?) there are no pictures of me attempting to wakeboard – a dodgy shoulder put paid to those plans. But G was thrilled to go on her first speedboat ride, then surprised us all braving the lake for a swim afterwards.

In the meantime, C cooed, gurgled and laughed away in her big sister’s play tent (which made for a handy sunshade). She’s pretty good at sitting up on her own these days, although she’s still showing no interest on being on her tummy, rolling or crawling. I like to think she’s just being lazy. She’s certainly learnt how to get what she wants – mostly by staring and ‘shouting’ at you until you pass it to her.

C even got to join in a bit with the evening BBQ before both kids headed off to bed in the tent. Of course it was far too exciting to think about actually going to sleep so we all ended up tucked up together until I realised that I was the only one awake and made my escape.

All three (yes three – it seems the big kid was also worn out!) slept pretty soundly until the morning, with a brief and well timed wake up from Daddy in order to catch the end of the football, huddled under the sleeping bag with the sound switched off.

We decided against joining in with the early morning open water swim, and instead set about packing up for the trip home. But somehow despite being one of the first to start packing up, by the time we were loaded up everyone else had finished and were already heading off.

It seems despite only being away for one night, we haven’t learnt how to pack light.