Parenting Fantasy Vs Reality Part 4: Activities & Outings with kids

You know those days when you make a plan for a lovely family activity together or day out? You’ve put thought into it, you’re sure it’s going to be a hit. You think to yourself “what a lovely day we shall have as a family together”

And despite all best intentions those ungrateful cretins somehow conspire to make your day of dreams turn into total carnage?

Tears, tantrums and echos of “I’m bored” , “this is rubbish” or “I want to go home” ring in your ears and you vow that never again shall you plan anything nice again. The ungrateful brutes.

These are some of the things I have idealised over the years, which ended up with me pulling my hair out, wondering why I even bothered

BAKING: The Fantasy

Wouldn’t it be lovely to bake some cupcakes together? That’s a nice and easy thing we can make. Easy enough for a toddler to make with minimal disaster. They can help me measure the ingredients and mix it all up, and maybe spoon the mix into the cases. It will be a chance for them to wear that cute little apron I bought them.

A good opportunity for them to learn basic cooking skills growing up. They will look back and have fond memories of us baking together.

The Reality

Kid loves the idea of baking, but after 2 minutes I already regret it. Measuring out the ingredients is much harder than I thought. Flour all over the floor, kid has poured in way too much and the scales have reset so no idea how much is in there.

I had to take over doing bits like the egg and now my kid is having a full on meltdown because they “want to do it”.

I let them mix it once it’s all in the bowl… bad idea, they dropped the spoon in and have eaten some. It’s raw egg, can’t be good surely?

Spooning the mix into the cake cases has resulted in some cases drowning in mixture, all oozing over the sides and others practically empty.

I thought this would be fun and I hate to say it but I am actually getting really pissed off.

I overestimated their capacity for accuracy and grossely overestimated my capacity for tolerance.

I thought we could make some nice cakes to eat but I wouldn’t want to feed these monstrosities to anyone!

There is cake mix everywhere. In their hair and on the floor. All I can hear is my own constant droning repetitive request to “be careful”.

Next time I either do this alone, or accept the task is for them to have fun and the output will be some questionably safe baked goods.

GARDENING: The Fantasy

I’ve bought some cute little vegetable growing kits to do with the kids. They can help me divide the compost into the pots and each plant some seeds in the trays. Nice fun activity, and they can then water them each day and care for them, watching as they grow and eventually harvest them to eat.

The Reality

Compost everywhere, water everywhere, why did I do this indoors? Listen to me each pot needs ONE seed Okay, not the whole packet!
Please don’t eat the compost! Please don’t mix the seeds. Thin layer!!!!!
I hate this. Worst idea ever.

And who is watering these plants? Me, of course it’s me, like I don’t have enough jobs already.

ARTS & CRAFTS: The Fantasy

What a magical and fun thing to do. Sparks the imagination and develops creativity and curiosity.

I’m channeling my inner Neil Buchanan.

I love crafting. Before I had kids I used to make stuff all the time.

This is a good way of me being able to do some of the things I used to enjoy and share this passion with my child. I shall keep lots of recycling items for art projects. Funtimes for all!

The Reality

All craft stuff creates mess. Toddlers are crap at crafts! Scissors are dangerous, glue is the enemy, and play doh gets stuck into the carpet.

Don’t even attempt to keep any order to the playdoh. There is no point even having colours because all toddlers want to do is make varying hues of brown. All playdoh becomes brown.

NEVER USE GLITTER. I’m basically blinded by a glitter blizzard on the back of a sneeze! You will find glitter in your hair for the next month. Ohhhhh and Kids they LOVE glitter. Glitter glue is worthless trash that never dries.

We’ve been using all the old recycling items I’ve been hoarding to make stuff. Wow my son has so far made a robot, a rocket, a house and various other things.

They all look the same. A box with things stuck on. There are loads of these creations in mountains of junk around the house.

He wont let me get rid of any of them. I must keep every single creation for ever and ever.

I wait a few days until he seems to have forgotten about something before sneaking it into the bin.

Sometimes he discovers a rejected project and asks “mummy did you throw my crafts in the bin?” I feel terrible but seriously I can’t keep everything. Also, to be honest, most of it really is crap. Sometimes I lie and say I don’t know how it got there. Sometimes l say I thought he didn’t want it anymore.

Rumbled rejects always return back to the collection and have to stay FOREVER as they will notice the minute its gone again. Your only hope is for it to break!

The kid now raids the bins stealing any household waste that can be used for new masterpieces. I have created a hoarder!

SOFT PLAY: The Fantasy

Let’s take the kids to a soft play! My mate takes her kids there and they love it. It sounds amazing and I would have loved going somewhere like that when I was a kid. Just like fun house!

The kids can run around and use up lots of energy, which of course means they will totally be nice and chill for the rest of the day.

I can sit and relax, Maybe I will even read a book! All in the knowledge that they will be safe- you know, because it’s soft, and enclosed.

It will be so much fun and basically a little break for me.

The Reality

What fresh hell is this? I have literally fallen into a nightmare. This place is huge and full of massive bruiser kids that could give Phill Mitchell a run for his money. My 3 year old is going to get butchered!

I did believe a soft play would be pretty safe from injury but had not foreseen the issues of slide friction burn, ball pit suffocation, and child avalanche crush. Watch them get kicked in the head from standing too close to the bottom of the slide or the absolute real chance of picking up germs from the filthy bodily fluid stained padding.

I will be lucky if they get out of here with nothing more than a verruca!

I imagined I would be sitting with a coffee, possibly reading a book. I see some parents managing this. Oh no, but not me. I am actually running round desperately trying to locate my child within the 3 story high, rope encapsulated pits of doom.

He calls to me from within the abyss and I’m shouting back “don’t worry mummy’s here but I haven’t got a fucking clue where he is or how to get him.

Adults aren’t really supposed to go in. It’s fend for yourself mate. I shall have to stand at the sidelines, powerless. Follow my voice!!!

Ok, I’m going in.

Errrr I think I’m stuck.

When the hour has ended I am bloody relieved to be leaving, with no plans to return, but can I get him out? Ha ha. Not a chance!

I’m calling out like a parent with absolutely no authority, begging, bribing then threatening in order to get the little shit bag to come down from the top floor of the soft play.

I finally get him out, with the promise of a sweet treat and vow to never go back.

That afternoon he is an absolute tyrant. Because he is over tired but too wired from the excitement and the chocolate I had to agree to give him to get him to come home.

He skips nap time and the afternoon is mayhem.

PLAYDATES: The Fantasy

With a baby

It will be so good to have a catch up with my mate. We can have some lunch and maybe a drink and chat about how motherhood is treating us.

The babies can have a roll about on the play mat together. I can escape from the hum drum for a bit and get a sense of me back for a short while.

With a toddler:

It will be so good to have a catch up with my mate. We can have some lunch and maybe a drink and chat about how motherhood is treating us. The kids can play together, preferably in the bedroom and give us some quiet time to have a good natter. I can escape from the hum drum for a bit and get a sense of me back for a short while.

The Reality

With a baby:

The babies have conspired against us. My mate made lunch and her daughter was screaming her head off so I held her and tried to settle her whilst my mate quickly whipped it up.

We sat down to eat but I had to eat alone at first while my mate fed her daughter and then got her down to sleep. Then mine wanted feeding so my mate cut my food up for me and I ate one handed over the head of my baby until I was able to pop him down.

Then hers woke again and set mine off and our cup of tea got cold.

We sat chatting with the babies in our arms as the only way to get any quiet enough to hear a word each other were saying. It’s a fragmented converstaion both of us are barely following.

With babies in slings we downed a glass of wine and now I’ve been here 3 hours and I really need to think about heading home to avoid the school rush.

Time has flown and I’m not sure we have finished a single conversation.

With a toddler:

The kids have conspired against us. My mate made lunch and her daughter was screaming her head off because my son had taken her toy and wouldn’t give it back. I had to intervene and mediate between two emotional and highly strung little people who have no understanding of sharing or allowing us any respite.

We sat down to eat and mine started whingeing he didn’t like it and wanted to play and I spent 10 minutes calling after and chasing my son around trying to get him to sit at the table and eat whist her child sat and watched.

She then took the lead from my little terror and decided to join in the resistance. My mate shoved her food down quickly and then took over getting them to settle down and watch something whilst I shoved my cold food in my mouth.

We sat chatting with the kids running round like bulldozers, shouting their big mouths off and could barely hear a word each other were saying.

Within minutes both kids are crying and blubbering that the other had hurt them and whilst trying to make sense of their tales of battle and facilitating their making amends, we downed a glass of wine.

Now I’ve been here 3 hours and I really need to think about heading home to avoid the school rush. Time has flown and I’m not sure we’ve finished a single conversation.

SWIMMING: The Fantasy

I really want my child to go swimming from an early age and be confident in the water. They say babies naturally take to water well and it will be relaxing for them.

I’ve not been for ages too so it will be nice for me to get some exercise and have some good bonding time with my baby.

The Reality

What a colossal mistake. The only good bit about this is the first 10 minutes of being in the pool! Getting a baby in a wetsuit is like something out of the krypton factor and getting the damn thing off when its wet? The worst!

Baby loved the first 10 minutes in the pool and once I figured out how to get in with a baby in my arms I enjoyed it too. But then the baby starts wailing it wants to be fed. Already?! We have been in here for no time at all.

I notice baby’s lips start getting a bit blue and they are shivering and clearly need to get out already. Hardly seems worth it.

We get out and showered then the real fun times begin.

For the record, Once babies get out of the pool they literally have one thing in mind. They want feeding and that’s all they want.

They have no sympathy for your sodden wet and freezing body. They care not at all for the fact they too need to be changed out of their wet and skin tight wetsuit and shit filled swim nappy.

If you are really lucky you’ve nabbed a family cubicle with a baby changer which makes the whole scenario marginally less hellscape. Otherwise you are balancing that baby on the narrow slatted bench of the changing room cubicle hoping to death they don’t fall off.

The baby is SCREAMING whilst you change them and dry them. Everything is damp and so the dry clothes don’t want to cooperate either, they just form a donut around the babues midrift.

You finally get them ready and then are faced with the mind boggling question of where the damned heck do you put the baby whist you change? Can’t leave them on the bench, they will fall. Can’t put them on the floor. It’s drenched!

Whilst holding the baby in one arm you wrap a towel round you and whip your costume off and in the split second your breast is exposed that baby has by some small miracle managed to latch on!!!

You accept defeat and sit in the towel feeding, at least happy the screaming has stopped. But swimming creates an insatiable thirst and this ravenous beast intends to not stop anytime soon. You have to take them off and get ready.

They scream whist you pen them down with one arm whist you put your freezing damp top half into a top, and using a leg to hold them on the bench to proceed to haphazardly pop on your trousers.

There is no scope for sorting out your hair. You shove everything in the bag and hobble out of the cubicle with your shoes shoved on, backs pressed down into make shift flip flops.

You sit in the cafe area outside feeding for another 30 minutes. You want a drink but you cant get up. You never go swimming alone without your partner again until they are walking.

Oh the Joy’s of parenting. Now mine are a bit older I can say things do in fact get a bit easier. New problems? Yes, of course, but still easier.

What are your activity fails with your kids? Let me know in the comments.

Images taken from free images on Pixabay and unsplash.