Two girl friends and I took our assorted kids camping this weekend.
Our husbands/partners were all otherwise committed and the trip we'd planned some weeks ago looked like it was going to fall through until we decided to go it alone and headed out on Thursday late afternoon (it was another long weekend here).
This is the second time in two months I've packed up the girls and taken them away.
Both times we've missed our fourth family member loads, but yet there's something so empowering about doing this on my own.
It really shows me how much they've grown, that the thought of looking after, and out for, both of them in a strange environment is not intimidating at all.
They are independent and adventurous and always up for new experiences, and I value that so much. For it allows me to be independent and adventurous, to broaden my (and thereby our) horizons, and after near-on 7 years of small people parenting, it's a massive corner to have turned.
All 3 of us had a great time, together and separately with our respective friends.
Some of my best childhood memories are of camping, and after trips like this one I like to think some of theirs will be too.
It was good timing too. After 3 sunny days, sunburnt and mozzie-bitten, we drove home into this ...
Sayonara summer, catch you on the flip side.