Tim Atkinson's Blog, page 93
September 1, 2011
It's not cricket
You've got to love a bit of cricket. No, really. I know matches sometimes last for five days and still end up a draw, but cricket - first-class cricket, anyway - is like the five course gourmet evening at the Fat Duck as opposed to the quick thrill of a McDonalds which is Association Football. I quite enjoy the crash-bang-wallop Twenty20's too, although I do wish they looked as much fun for the players as they are for the spectators. There were few smiles on show last night when England took on India in the solitary Twenty20 of the tourist's schedule. Lots of shouting, posturing, swearing (possibly), 'tea-potting' and spitting, even. Yes, that. And on the hallowed turf of Old Trafford too.
Now I'm all for a bit of passion. I like taking things seriously. But it's only a game (as is football, contrary to Bill Shankley's famous assertion). As it happens, last night's Twenty20 wasn't the only game I watched this week. On Monday we happened to be strolling on the cliff top at Sewerby when we happened on a Bank Holiday friendly between the locals and some team from Tadcaster. The sun shone (briefly) and the wind abated; the thwack of leather on willow competed with the plaintive cry of seagulls overhead; the sun sparkled on the sea and the backdrop to the whole scene was the delightful Sewerby Hall. Doesn't it look pretty?
Unfortunately, it didn't sound pretty. Dear God, the tranquil summer sounds of bees hummings, birds singing and games playing was all but drowned out by the veritable cacophony of clapping, shouting, chivvying, directing, berating, exalting and appealing. Honestly, I've been at Test Matches and heard less noise. And this was a Bank Holiday friendly.
Mind you, they don't do friendly much in Yorkshire - not on the cricket field. I once stood in at short notice for a team that was a player short and - not having packed me whites - had to make do with trainers and some tracksuit trousers. Which was fine until (in a lost cause, I hasten to add) the captain tossed me the ball and - mirabile dictu - I happened to take a couple of quick wickets. At which point the opposing captain (if you were playing for Flamborough, circa 1987 you might know him) stormed onto the field with a copy of the East Riding Cricket League rule book and protested the the umpires that I wasn't properly attired. (His words were slightly more direct, and contained fewer syllables.) At which point I was banished from the field, never to play competitive cricket again.
Unless, that is, you count a game in the park with the family. Three years ago, on the occasion of Charlie's Christening, we seemed gradually to drift to the park - all of us, from Sarah's great-grandad to Charlie in his pram. And all except Charlie joined in the most memorable game I shall probably ever play.
And you know what? It was fun!
Now I'm all for a bit of passion. I like taking things seriously. But it's only a game (as is football, contrary to Bill Shankley's famous assertion). As it happens, last night's Twenty20 wasn't the only game I watched this week. On Monday we happened to be strolling on the cliff top at Sewerby when we happened on a Bank Holiday friendly between the locals and some team from Tadcaster. The sun shone (briefly) and the wind abated; the thwack of leather on willow competed with the plaintive cry of seagulls overhead; the sun sparkled on the sea and the backdrop to the whole scene was the delightful Sewerby Hall. Doesn't it look pretty?
Unfortunately, it didn't sound pretty. Dear God, the tranquil summer sounds of bees hummings, birds singing and games playing was all but drowned out by the veritable cacophony of clapping, shouting, chivvying, directing, berating, exalting and appealing. Honestly, I've been at Test Matches and heard less noise. And this was a Bank Holiday friendly.
Mind you, they don't do friendly much in Yorkshire - not on the cricket field. I once stood in at short notice for a team that was a player short and - not having packed me whites - had to make do with trainers and some tracksuit trousers. Which was fine until (in a lost cause, I hasten to add) the captain tossed me the ball and - mirabile dictu - I happened to take a couple of quick wickets. At which point the opposing captain (if you were playing for Flamborough, circa 1987 you might know him) stormed onto the field with a copy of the East Riding Cricket League rule book and protested the the umpires that I wasn't properly attired. (His words were slightly more direct, and contained fewer syllables.) At which point I was banished from the field, never to play competitive cricket again.
Unless, that is, you count a game in the park with the family. Three years ago, on the occasion of Charlie's Christening, we seemed gradually to drift to the park - all of us, from Sarah's great-grandad to Charlie in his pram. And all except Charlie joined in the most memorable game I shall probably ever play.
And you know what? It was fun!
August 30, 2011
Baby Jake's Windmill
You've got to love Bank Holidays and the like for the chance to explore your local area. We seldom go far if we can help it. Why waste time sitting in the car? And I thought I'd share this little gem with you this morning, being just a couple of miles up the road from where we live, making it a perfect Bank Holiday destination.
Yes, it's Baby Jake's windmill. Ok, they've added a few more windows on the telly but this is it alright - Sibsey Trader Windmill, built in 1877 and described as 'one of the finest mills in the country.'
Actually, we're quite well off for windmills in our part of the world. There's the Maud Foster mill about half a mile away and which distracts me from work whenever I gaze out of my study windmill I mean window.
Then a few miles down the road is the Heckington Windmill, a mill so unique it gets mill-spotters (if such should be) salivating at the very mention of its name. You see, it's got eight sails! And I can't recommend the view from the train as it slows to a halt at Heckington station highly enough.
Of course, you could get off and take a look. But in spite of passing it on a regular basis as I commute to work I never have. Typical, isn't it? Oh well. At least that's the next Bank Holiday taken care of.
Yes, it's Baby Jake's windmill. Ok, they've added a few more windows on the telly but this is it alright - Sibsey Trader Windmill, built in 1877 and described as 'one of the finest mills in the country.' Actually, we're quite well off for windmills in our part of the world. There's the Maud Foster mill about half a mile away and which distracts me from work whenever I gaze out of my study windmill I mean window.
Then a few miles down the road is the Heckington Windmill, a mill so unique it gets mill-spotters (if such should be) salivating at the very mention of its name. You see, it's got eight sails! And I can't recommend the view from the train as it slows to a halt at Heckington station highly enough.
Of course, you could get off and take a look. But in spite of passing it on a regular basis as I commute to work I never have. Typical, isn't it? Oh well. At least that's the next Bank Holiday taken care of.
August 26, 2011
It's Ben Shaw's Birthday...
Happy Birthday Ben - 140 years young! When someone asked if I'd like a few cans of Ben Shaws best to celebrate with him, I was only too keen. You see, I remember Ben of old. Not 140 years old, but we do go back a long way.
You see, back in the summer of 1976 (endless hours of sunshine, endless re-enactments of that summer's test series between England and West Indies on the local playing field) Ben Shaw and I were big mates. I'd do all the fast bowling (in the sun, sweating) and he'd do all the replenishing when we got fed up, tired, too hot and went to the local shop for something to drink. Something which, in those days, came in bottles. Glass bottles. Bottles you got money back for returning.
Thirty-several years later and I'm drinking from a different bottle, but still keen to find something soft that hits the spot. There's coke of course, but well... it never tastes the same at home. And then comes the chance to reconnect with my past, with Ben Shaw, with cream soda, dandelion and burdock, cloudy lemonade and bitter shandy.
If Proust had his madeleines, then give me Ben Shaws. I couldn't honestly say how much - if any - has passed my lips from that day to this but tasting it again was as good as going back in time. I suppose it was a Yorkshire thing. I'm sure the Ben Shaws 'pop van' still came round 'when I were a lad'. I'm delighted to see they're still going strong. And very glad to be able to wish them a 'Happy Birthday'.
Here's to the next 140 years!
You see, back in the summer of 1976 (endless hours of sunshine, endless re-enactments of that summer's test series between England and West Indies on the local playing field) Ben Shaw and I were big mates. I'd do all the fast bowling (in the sun, sweating) and he'd do all the replenishing when we got fed up, tired, too hot and went to the local shop for something to drink. Something which, in those days, came in bottles. Glass bottles. Bottles you got money back for returning.
Thirty-several years later and I'm drinking from a different bottle, but still keen to find something soft that hits the spot. There's coke of course, but well... it never tastes the same at home. And then comes the chance to reconnect with my past, with Ben Shaw, with cream soda, dandelion and burdock, cloudy lemonade and bitter shandy.
If Proust had his madeleines, then give me Ben Shaws. I couldn't honestly say how much - if any - has passed my lips from that day to this but tasting it again was as good as going back in time. I suppose it was a Yorkshire thing. I'm sure the Ben Shaws 'pop van' still came round 'when I were a lad'. I'm delighted to see they're still going strong. And very glad to be able to wish them a 'Happy Birthday'.
Here's to the next 140 years!
August 25, 2011
Radio makes you happier than blogging
I've been away. I know, I know, I've told you that before. Want to see some more snaps? Here's a few of Berchtesgden set to some music.
Now, blogging. The thing is, while I was enjoying the view up Bavarian mountains I was out of internet range and due to general travelling incompetence had no 3G signal on my mobile either. And - do you know what - I didn't miss it. I know. Whisper it in hushed tones. I - who consider myself addicted to it, who gave up reading newspapers to devote more time to it - didn't miss it at all. Neither did I miss Twitter or Faceache or Foursquare or Instagram or any of the other online wastes of time I happily allow to consume hours of my existence. I thought I would. I really expected my right thumb to atrophy and be incapable of texting when I got back home. But - apart from half a hundredweight of emails awaiting me when I was back in wifi range - I felt no ill-effects, suffered no cold-turkey, showed no signs of missing the online world at all.
Which is itself a worry.
I mean, to an increasing number of people I'm defined by blogging (or Tweeting). It's what I do. So to find myself immune to its charms came as something of a surprise. But maybe I needn't worry. Because apparently, it's listening to the radio that really makes you happy. According to an (oddly, on-line) survey conducted recently, 'Listening to the radio makes people happier and gives them higher energy levels than watching TV or browsing the internet'.
So now we know. We should both be listening to the radio. Which is precisely what I'm about to do. As long as it isn't the insufferable Chris Evans, of course.
Still reading?
Now, blogging. The thing is, while I was enjoying the view up Bavarian mountains I was out of internet range and due to general travelling incompetence had no 3G signal on my mobile either. And - do you know what - I didn't miss it. I know. Whisper it in hushed tones. I - who consider myself addicted to it, who gave up reading newspapers to devote more time to it - didn't miss it at all. Neither did I miss Twitter or Faceache or Foursquare or Instagram or any of the other online wastes of time I happily allow to consume hours of my existence. I thought I would. I really expected my right thumb to atrophy and be incapable of texting when I got back home. But - apart from half a hundredweight of emails awaiting me when I was back in wifi range - I felt no ill-effects, suffered no cold-turkey, showed no signs of missing the online world at all.
Which is itself a worry.
I mean, to an increasing number of people I'm defined by blogging (or Tweeting). It's what I do. So to find myself immune to its charms came as something of a surprise. But maybe I needn't worry. Because apparently, it's listening to the radio that really makes you happy. According to an (oddly, on-line) survey conducted recently, 'Listening to the radio makes people happier and gives them higher energy levels than watching TV or browsing the internet'.
So now we know. We should both be listening to the radio. Which is precisely what I'm about to do. As long as it isn't the insufferable Chris Evans, of course.
Still reading?
August 23, 2011
Get a hands free kit!
I promised you some holiday snaps (see previous post) and here they come. First, this...
Bet you weren't expecting that were you? Neither was I on a sunny Thursday afternoon at a payage on the Autoroute in France. It's a common enough site here in Boston as lorries thunder by us as we walk to nursery. I often wish I had a camera. On holiday, of course, I did - at least, on my 'phone. (My wife was driving in case you're thinking this is a case of pots and kettles!)
What beats me about these guys (and they do all seem to be guys - I've never seen a lady lorry driver on the 'phone) isn't the reckless stupidity or the arrogant disregard of other people's safety as much as the sheer idiocy of putting their job in jeopardy for the sake a forty quid or less. Surely if you spend your life behind the wheel you could even claim it back against tax as an essential item? Whatever. But if you're a lorry driver on the 'phone you have been warned! I may just start carrying my camera more often.
Bet you weren't expecting that were you? Neither was I on a sunny Thursday afternoon at a payage on the Autoroute in France. It's a common enough site here in Boston as lorries thunder by us as we walk to nursery. I often wish I had a camera. On holiday, of course, I did - at least, on my 'phone. (My wife was driving in case you're thinking this is a case of pots and kettles!)
What beats me about these guys (and they do all seem to be guys - I've never seen a lady lorry driver on the 'phone) isn't the reckless stupidity or the arrogant disregard of other people's safety as much as the sheer idiocy of putting their job in jeopardy for the sake a forty quid or less. Surely if you spend your life behind the wheel you could even claim it back against tax as an essential item? Whatever. But if you're a lorry driver on the 'phone you have been warned! I may just start carrying my camera more often.
August 21, 2011
Sunday Supplement
It's good to be back. I like traveling, but I like getting home and after a round trip of almost 2,000 miles by car I'm glad of a rest, to be honest. We've sung in Salzburg Cathedral, given an open-air performance of Carmina Burana at a Bavarian Castle, driven on the windy mountain roads of Berchtesgaden and taken a boat round the waterways of Bruge.
Thankfully - and crucially - we seem to have children who are pretty good travelers, which is just as well given the distances we covered. Two things kept Charlie amused throughout the sometimes interminable journey: an impulse-bought copy of the CBeebies magazine replete with stickers, crayons, stories, games and activities and some in-car entertainment strapped to the headrest of my seat. And believe me - a film or a DVD can make a long journey more than bearable with small children. And for versatility, an iPad (or an ASUS Eee-pad) with a headrest mount (like the one Scosche have just brought out) might be the best twenty quid you ever spend.
Back home, we can amuse ourselves by flicking through our photographs. I might bore you with a few on here if you're unlucky. And if there are any good family group shots, we've been invited to submit them to Hotpoint 'Family Portraits' competition and give ourselves a chance to do some more traveling - specifically, a trip to New York in December. All you have to do is submit your family pic before October 10th on their dedicated website: http://family.hotpoint.eu.
Finally, now we're back it's time to get the barbie out again and enter another competition. This time, it's serious: a boys v girls barbecue challenge being run by Tesco. They're testing the theory that men are the kings of the barbie by looking for recipes that add a creative twist to tried and tested BBQ classics. Just visit the Tesco Real Food site, browse their brilliant BBQ recipes and enter your own recipe suggestion.
There's a different category each week for 4 weeks (e.g. kebabs, salads, fish and meat) and the winners will receive a great gas hamper from Tesco Direct and have their ideas featured on both the Real Food site and the Tesco Facebook page. I'm just disappointed there doesn't seem to be a category for deserts as my (only) speciality (apart from burnt beefburger) is barbecued banana. Still, musn't let the side down. I'll be posting my recipe as soon as I've invented it. So if you'll excuse me... it's time to light the coals.
Have a great Sunday!
Thankfully - and crucially - we seem to have children who are pretty good travelers, which is just as well given the distances we covered. Two things kept Charlie amused throughout the sometimes interminable journey: an impulse-bought copy of the CBeebies magazine replete with stickers, crayons, stories, games and activities and some in-car entertainment strapped to the headrest of my seat. And believe me - a film or a DVD can make a long journey more than bearable with small children. And for versatility, an iPad (or an ASUS Eee-pad) with a headrest mount (like the one Scosche have just brought out) might be the best twenty quid you ever spend.
Back home, we can amuse ourselves by flicking through our photographs. I might bore you with a few on here if you're unlucky. And if there are any good family group shots, we've been invited to submit them to Hotpoint 'Family Portraits' competition and give ourselves a chance to do some more traveling - specifically, a trip to New York in December. All you have to do is submit your family pic before October 10th on their dedicated website: http://family.hotpoint.eu.
Finally, now we're back it's time to get the barbie out again and enter another competition. This time, it's serious: a boys v girls barbecue challenge being run by Tesco. They're testing the theory that men are the kings of the barbie by looking for recipes that add a creative twist to tried and tested BBQ classics. Just visit the Tesco Real Food site, browse their brilliant BBQ recipes and enter your own recipe suggestion.
There's a different category each week for 4 weeks (e.g. kebabs, salads, fish and meat) and the winners will receive a great gas hamper from Tesco Direct and have their ideas featured on both the Real Food site and the Tesco Facebook page. I'm just disappointed there doesn't seem to be a category for deserts as my (only) speciality (apart from burnt beefburger) is barbecued banana. Still, musn't let the side down. I'll be posting my recipe as soon as I've invented it. So if you'll excuse me... it's time to light the coals.
Have a great Sunday!
August 19, 2011
That's the way to do it! Lego Duplo Cars review
So, further to my last post about the PR disaster that was the offer-that-wasn't-an-offer, here's another PR-inspired post, this time courtesy of Kerry Jean Lister and the Digital Outlook team. This is how it should be done. You're asked about something, agree to do it, they deliver and - even better - have a perfectly clear idea of what they want in return. Believe it or not I've had some things out-of-the-blue without so much as a follow-up email, still less a clear idea of what's required by way of a review. (Needless to say, there isn't one!) But not only do we return from holiday with a rather nice (and large) parcel to collect from the sorting office, we have this - a clear list of questions they want answering about the product.
Q: Did your children enjoy playing with the Cars 2 range?
A: absolutely! He's rarely played with anything else since opening them. And - unlike many toys - he wasn't the least bit interested in the boxes. If that doesn't say something about the contents, I don't know what does.
Q: Role play – do you believe the Cars 2 products encourage role play?
A: If inhabiting the character of the various cars counts, then most definitely. But as with any Lego product, the great thing about it is the opportunity it affords for flexible, creative play. Yes, we've made the things as per the instructions, but we've also made our own variations on a theme - which in Charlie's case has included separating all car from chassis and 'role-playing' car mechanics.
Q: Quality – do you notice the quality of the LEGO DUPLO Cars 2 product and would you say it was built to last?
A: If anything's robust enough to withstand three or four days of Charlie, it's built to last. The Lego Duplo Cars have survived!
Q: Interchangeable with Lego – have you noticed that Duplo fits Lego perfectly? Do you think this is of benefit as children get older?
A: Very much so. And as already stated, we've added to the mix and made some, er... 'unique' structures of our own by utilising this very flexibility.
So, all-in-all everybody's happy. I'm pleased with a pitch-perfect model of a PR campaign (always happy to help!) and Charlie's more-than-happy with some new toys...
Q: Did your children enjoy playing with the Cars 2 range?
A: absolutely! He's rarely played with anything else since opening them. And - unlike many toys - he wasn't the least bit interested in the boxes. If that doesn't say something about the contents, I don't know what does.
Q: Role play – do you believe the Cars 2 products encourage role play?
A: If inhabiting the character of the various cars counts, then most definitely. But as with any Lego product, the great thing about it is the opportunity it affords for flexible, creative play. Yes, we've made the things as per the instructions, but we've also made our own variations on a theme - which in Charlie's case has included separating all car from chassis and 'role-playing' car mechanics.
Q: Quality – do you notice the quality of the LEGO DUPLO Cars 2 product and would you say it was built to last?
A: If anything's robust enough to withstand three or four days of Charlie, it's built to last. The Lego Duplo Cars have survived!
Q: Interchangeable with Lego – have you noticed that Duplo fits Lego perfectly? Do you think this is of benefit as children get older?
A: Very much so. And as already stated, we've added to the mix and made some, er... 'unique' structures of our own by utilising this very flexibility.
So, all-in-all everybody's happy. I'm pleased with a pitch-perfect model of a PR campaign (always happy to help!) and Charlie's more-than-happy with some new toys...
August 17, 2011
Burnt fingers
I suppose it's my own fault. I should've checked, been less keen to schedule guest posts while on holiday (although - with the single exception of the last one - they've been excellent, thanks to the skill and integrity of the bloggers who volunteered to write them). But that's the key - the word 'bloggers'. Until Monday, they'd all been bloggers - honest, hard-working, fine-writing, entertaining and educating bloggers all. And then I go and spoil it by accepting copy from a PR...
Here's what I received after I posted their article on Monday:
On 16 August 2011 16:25, Ariane Sloan <asloan@5wpr.com> wrote:
And here is my reply:
Dear Ariane:
May I suggest you check this kind of thing before approaching a blogger in future? It quite clear from my site that my blog is a UK blog, to say nothing of the '.co.uk' url in the address.
As for the 'inconveniences' you apologize for, it is less that than a matter of the trust and goodwill you have abused - mine in putting up the post in the first place and my readers for bothering to view it.
The haste with which you're now reneging on your offer leaves a rather bitter taste. I sincerely hope for the sake of your business that none of your 'natural remedies' does the same thing.
Profound apologies to all who read it commented, or planned to do so. I'll be more careful in future. And only accept posts from fellow-bloggers.
Here's what I received after I posted their article on Monday:
On 16 August 2011 16:25, Ariane Sloan <asloan@5wpr.com> wrote:
Hi Tim,
I hope you're well. I'm sorry for any inconveniences this may cause you, but we are unable to ship product overseas and will not be able to host the giveaway on your website.
Again, I apologize for the inconvenience.
Thank you,
Ariane
Ariane Sloan
5W Public Relations
Direct: 646.862.6376
www.5wpr.com
And here is my reply:
Dear Ariane:
May I suggest you check this kind of thing before approaching a blogger in future? It quite clear from my site that my blog is a UK blog, to say nothing of the '.co.uk' url in the address.
As for the 'inconveniences' you apologize for, it is less that than a matter of the trust and goodwill you have abused - mine in putting up the post in the first place and my readers for bothering to view it.
The haste with which you're now reneging on your offer leaves a rather bitter taste. I sincerely hope for the sake of your business that none of your 'natural remedies' does the same thing.
Profound apologies to all who read it commented, or planned to do so. I'll be more careful in future. And only accept posts from fellow-bloggers.
August 15, 2011
Guest post: Maty's natural remedies
For centuries, parents turned to what we refer to today as 'old-folk remedies' - time-honored healing traditions passed down through generations of mothers. These were effective cures found in nature used daily for common ailments.
Maty's is now unearthing the age-old tradition of all-natural remedies that are good for the body and the environment. Maty's has carefully crafted safe, all-natural treatments for your child--and for you! Their products ensure that you are getting the finest, most effective ingredients without any dangerous side effects and they'd like parents to give their favorite natural cold remedy advice. Leave your advice in the comment section after this post and you could win a bottle of Maty's all natural cough syrup.
This syrup begins with real antioxidant rich buckwheat honey. Many of Mother Nature's most powerful immune and support ingredients are then added. Unlike traditional over-the-counter cold medicines and homeopathic remedies, this product is food based; there are no harmful side effects. You can have peace of mind as well as a peaceful night's sleep
The winner will be chosen at random on Friday, August 19th.
August 13, 2011
Guest post: flying with the family...
We've just returned from our holiday - a two-thousand mile road trip across Europe. We could have flown, but the thought of doing that with children was too much. We chose the gentler, stop when you need to, make-the-journey-part-of-the-holiday option. Unlike Sarah James from the 'Team James' blog, who not only flew but did so with all five - yes, five - of her kids. Here are her survival tips...
"We recently took our children to France on a plane. It wasn't the first time but it was the first with just two adults (we'd had grandparents with us previously). It was also the first time that we had all five of our kids (number 5 had been an in utero passenger before!) so the grand total was two adults and 5 kids who ranged from 8 years to 5 months old. You may be thinking what sensible person travels on a plane with 5 young children….yeah we did too.
"When we returned I noted down some of things that we had observed on our trip…
You are always going to need fewer clothes than you think for the journey. Even if its -10 outside, the terminal will be a balmy 20+ degrees. The kids are going to shed those layers and guess who is going to be schlepping around the terminal with them hanging over their arm.
It's quite something when you qualify for the 'groups' check in when it's just you and your kids you are checking in.
You need to watch what you say to your 8 year old about the whole process of security at airports because they are going to repeat it out loud and proud when you reach security.
Resist, resist, resist the urge to scream 'lady, do I look like I have time to be a terrorist?!!" at the bored security officer asking you a long list of questions while your two year old swings off your arm and has a melt down about their special toy having to go through the scanners.
The departure gate is a-l-w-a-y-s miles away.
Your kids are going to behave like chimps on a jungle gym when they get to the moving walkways. Every. Single. Time.
Always order the in flight meals. If they are rubbish it gives the kids something to do for a bit.
Prepare yourself to look longingly and wistfully at your neighbour passenger who has kicked their shoes off and is reading their novel...
Also prepare yourself for the looks of horror on the faces of said passengers when they realize they are sitting near to what...1,2,3,4...how many children!!!
Remember how cool it was to sit next to the window? Yep? Good, because you won't experience that again till you fly without your kids. You're riding in the aisle pal."
"We recently took our children to France on a plane. It wasn't the first time but it was the first with just two adults (we'd had grandparents with us previously). It was also the first time that we had all five of our kids (number 5 had been an in utero passenger before!) so the grand total was two adults and 5 kids who ranged from 8 years to 5 months old. You may be thinking what sensible person travels on a plane with 5 young children….yeah we did too.
"When we returned I noted down some of things that we had observed on our trip…
You are always going to need fewer clothes than you think for the journey. Even if its -10 outside, the terminal will be a balmy 20+ degrees. The kids are going to shed those layers and guess who is going to be schlepping around the terminal with them hanging over their arm.
It's quite something when you qualify for the 'groups' check in when it's just you and your kids you are checking in.
You need to watch what you say to your 8 year old about the whole process of security at airports because they are going to repeat it out loud and proud when you reach security.
Resist, resist, resist the urge to scream 'lady, do I look like I have time to be a terrorist?!!" at the bored security officer asking you a long list of questions while your two year old swings off your arm and has a melt down about their special toy having to go through the scanners.
The departure gate is a-l-w-a-y-s miles away.
Your kids are going to behave like chimps on a jungle gym when they get to the moving walkways. Every. Single. Time.
Always order the in flight meals. If they are rubbish it gives the kids something to do for a bit.
Prepare yourself to look longingly and wistfully at your neighbour passenger who has kicked their shoes off and is reading their novel...
Also prepare yourself for the looks of horror on the faces of said passengers when they realize they are sitting near to what...1,2,3,4...how many children!!!
Remember how cool it was to sit next to the window? Yep? Good, because you won't experience that again till you fly without your kids. You're riding in the aisle pal."
