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Northern Mum

Crossfitting, pancreas acting, single mum to three

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Tales from the beach – Surviving

“Did you have a lovely day?”

That’s the question that greeted me back at the campsite when I arrived back after a day at the beach, with my friend, and our six children plus dog.

I’ll be honest.

It was hard to answer…..

Because I know the photos will eventually force me to recall it was a bloody lovely day. But still the memory lingered.

Because “lovely” just ain’t the right word.

Successful is probably better.

As we all made it out alive.

In Spain, when you go to the beach, you grab a towel, sunscreen, a book – and go to the beach.

In Cornwall, when you go to the beach, you take a picnic, jumpers, raincoats, sunscreen, tent, blanket, chairs, windbreak, numerous fecking ball games, wet suits, body boards, colouring pencils, towels and if you are frigging sensible – a bottle of gin.

As we trudged onto the beach, looking like we were refugees from the isle of Yorkshire, and the rain started to fall.

Again, in Spain – you would turn to your friend and go…

“Oh dash, it’s starting to rain, let’s pop back to the bar.”

In Cornwall, it is merely an obstacle to mount. A challenge that needs to be risen to…

So, obviously, like true brits as the rain started to splatter – we dug deep and trudged on, ignoring the please of the children to return to the car.  As they moaned us parents simply retaliate like Mary Poppins on acid…

“Come on kids, be ok in a mo.”

And of course it was, after we were soaked to the bone.

Once on the beach, the routine is always the same.

Poles in, chairs out, wet suits squeezed into, blanket laid. Food thrown at starving children who ate breakfast a mere 30 minutes before.  Sand in the sandwiches and no one happy with what they chose as a filling.

As soon as base is erected – its time to ignore it and bugger off to play find the child as they scatter to the four corners of the beach.

Two in the sea, one on a board, one digging holes, one needing a wee, and one having a tantrum – and choosing who to pass the angry stick to next.  Because no way they can all be happy at the same time!

Chairs and picnic blankets are totally irrelevant – they are only sat upon when you ask the kids to help pack up and they all suddenly suffer from selective deafness.

But we went to the beach six kids, two women and a dog, and we left the same.

As I said!

Success!

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Jane is a working Mum of three and has great hair. One of these things may not be true.

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