Holidaying WITHOUT Kids!

Last Friday I boarded a plane to Portugal for 3 days and 2 nights for my friends hen do.  I had a bloody amazing time once there and would totally do it all again. I don’t think i’ve laughed that much, or been that silly and carefree in such a long time and I can highly recommend a mini girls holiday if you are reaching breaking point during the School holidays.

In this post I thought rather than talk you through our drunken quest for fun in the sun I thought id share the emotions in the run up to leaving my boys instead with a little story of our final day at the end of the post!

I hope you enjoy it 🙂


Me ranting in my own head whilst aggressively washing up for the 5th time that day……….. “I can’t WAIT to get away from this house, no washing, no school runs, no nappies, no bed time dramas and tea time refusals!”


I’m just going “TO BE ME!!” (that seemed to be my phrase of choice as if some super fun, wild loose woman was about to hatch out of a party egg and go insane!)


The day dreaming phase …….. “Can you imagine, just laying on a beach sunbathing with both eyes closed.” “ I bet hangovers don’t even feel that bad when you don’t have to get up at 5am.” “I could even wear WHITE!!” (FACT: Hangovers actually feel terrible but re hydration sachets are the key!)


Absolute PANIC and write 3 A4 sheets of notes for partner (even though he proved himself to be more than capable and much better at getting out the house on time than me!) Frantically kissing the boys as they sleep telling them how much il miss them and planning all the presents il buy them in the airport to override my feelings of guilt.

Friday 5am

“Coo and Arrrr” at every child in the airport with tears in my eyes!

Friday 5.30am

Witness multiple children tantrum and whinge so pull myself together, wheel my super light suitcase straight to the plane door and order a Malibu that I know wont get spilt onto a stranger. Anddddd Relax!!


6 hours before I’m due to go home, with a sore throat from too much karaoke and a body that’s in desperate need of hydration we see a lost little boy crying for his Mum.

We of course run over to help him (I guess a Mum is never really off duty after all.)

Two of the other hens run off in the direction he came from to try look for a panicking Mother whilst we comfort the boy (who was French and probably didn’t have a clue what we were saying!)

Eventually, after what felt like hours we see our hens sprinting back with the panicked Mother in between them. As they were running down the street the passers by and on lookers started to clap and cheer as the boy reunited with his Mum!

And OH MY GOODNESS!!!! What a wreck we all were! Sobbing into our Full English breakfasts, ringing home to tell husbands and partners not to let the kids out of sight until we return.

The following Monday 5.30am

“Have you go me a present” is repeated until I finally give in and let them have airport sweets at 7am.



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