My gorgeous girls and I are heading off into the sunshine (and it's guaranteed! How very brilliant is that)?
On Monday morning, bright and early, we're flying to Malta.
Youngest Daughter, when I announced the happy news of our very last-minute holiday booking, said, 'So, does that mean we'll be Maltesers for the next two weeks?' ... which made the ludicrous amount of money that I'd just put onto my already over-burdened credit card entirely worth it.
But I am filled with trepidation.
I had contemplated (briefly) being brave and intrepid. I had thought (briefly) about going to Heathrow with miniscule suitcases and getting onto whichever flight still had three seats available and simply going to wherever the plane happened to be going and then, when we got there, simply making things up as we went along.
But then I realised that I just don't have it in me. I don't feel brave enough. Right now, I need to be somewhere friendly and warm, somewhere close to water, somewhere that I know my girls will be able to swim and tan and read and make friends easily. I don't want to have to search every night for a place to rest our heads, or drag them off one aeroplane or ferry and onto the next. I want to enjoy myself. And I'm hoping that, if I do, they will too.
And so I have opted for the Single Parent Holiday, with a company that specialises in 'group holidays designed especially and exclusively for single parent families' - which might prove to be 'the very best decision that I have ever made' (according to the blurb on their brochure).... or, possibly the very worst. Please God, let there be at least one kindred spirit. Please God, let it not be a disaster of epic proportions. Ho hum.
The next two weeks will tell, of course ... and so will I, when I get back.
'Bye for now!
4 years ago