So it looks like we may possibly have to remortgage our house, or get a loan …or sell one of my kidneys.
I hear you wondering what financial emergency has prompted such drastic measures. Perhaps our car has broken down and needs extensive, expensive repairs? Maybe we’ve had a massive leak at home which the insurance won’t cover?
No. We’ve simply come a cropper to the good old summer holidays. Six pound guzzling weeks of child orientated activities, draining not only my sanity but also our savings!
What has prompted this rant? Blame our local mini golf. My mum and I took the kids yesterday. I’m not going to lie, I was excited. I mean there was a bloody volcano and roaring caged gorilla to contend with, not a windmill in sight. We all arrived with a spring in our step, “two adults and two children please.” It was all going so well and then “that’ll be £31 please.” THIRTY ONE POUNDS?!!
There was a glance between me and my mum – a “is she for f*cking real?” kind of look. Everything in me wanted to spin on my heels, usher the kids out and run to the car. But you can’t do that…can you?
So we paid. And we did have a lovely time. The boys loved it. But THIRTY ONE POUNDS?!!
It made me realise that summer holidays are bloody expensive. I totally wanted to send the boys to a holiday club this year but thought it would be too much of a stretch. But actually just the general day to day with two boys and a baby sends the £££s rocketing.
I mean, even if we just had a Wednesday at home, playing with long forgotten toys and maybe popping to the park, I guarantee we would spend four times as much as a regular school day Wednesday.
Lets start with the food, the copious amounts of food that seems to get consumed. My boys seem to turn into goldfish who have forgotten that they ate only five minutes ago, demanding and devouring snacks like they haven’t eaten in a week. I’m pretty sure when they’re at school they don’t put their hands up mid lesson “miss, miss, miss?…can I have a snack?!” Even Baby Daislikethese is in on the act, pointing at anything food based (or anything that looks faintly food like) and “hmf hmf hmf” ing urgently. My weekly shop this week probably lasted about two and a half days.
Then there is the ice cream van that sits in the park. Just sitting there, taunting all the children with it’s potential yumminess. And sending all the parents mad; I mean you either have to spend a months wages on on two 99 flakes or be driven insane for the remaining hours of the day (and possibly into the next) with the endless whines of “but whhhyyyyy mummy?! Whhhhhyyyy couldn’t we have an ice cream?”
And if the days out, food and ice creams weren’t putting enough of a strain on my purse, lets not forget the cost of all the wine and gin that I am having to add to my extensive summer holidays expense list. I mean, it’s almost essential after having to full time mum for 12hrs solid without a lunch break or even a wee in private!