So how was Great Yarmouth? I wrote a few posts describing what and where it is for anyone who hasn’t heard of it before. I even tried to find some pictures on ’stock.xchng.com’ but all that was there under Great Yarmouth was a photo of a man vomiting…

(We didn’t see him.)

I’m hoping you’ll see these posts one day as they’re on my backed up files, but as the problems with the server will probably take another week or so to sort you’ll have to await the delights of my back catalogue which I spent time and energy writing before we went away so that I could still post everyday.

Arghhhhhhhh

Anyway, Great Yarmouth is on the East Coast of England about 20 miles from Norwich.

We were in a little village nearby called Scratby.

I don’t know if we’d go there again, but the holiday itself?

It was good.

We spent a week on the beach and in the pool – yes in the UK, and Miss M learnt the word ‘plenty’ and used it,well, plenty.

After our first day at the beach, as a sun drunk Mr B and I carted the two little Beaufoix’s home – Miss E, sporting one bucket and one spade turned to me wearily and said,

Miss E: “Can you carry these mummy? I’m so tired.”

Me: (Sporting 4 towels, sun tan cream, bottle of water, cups, 2 more buckets and 3 spades, some carefully chosen and attractive shells and pebbles, a change in clothes for Miss M (potty trained but sometimes forgetful) and 2 beach mats,)

“Erm,I think you can manage E, Mummy’s hands are a bit full…”

Miss E looks at me with her big blue eyes, notes the expression on my face, the perspiration on my brow, and the look in Mr B’s eyes saying ‘Don’t do it E, you’ll live to regret it…’ and we continue on our way.

Miss M is riding in her new pink buggy complete with sun shade and carry strap. Daddy is pushing. She has had cucumber and all is right with the world.

She has that look on her face that makes adults say to each other, ‘I wonder what she’s thinking’,

and I say to Mr B,

“I wonder what she’s thinking.”

Then in answer Miss M pipes up,

Miss M: “Where we going mummy?”

Me: “We’re going, erm, home M, to our holiday home.”

M: “Home to M’s house?”

Me: “No M, home to our chalet, our holiday house.”

M: “Cos M’s got lots of houses Mummy…”

Me: “Yes M.”

Miss M: “M got plenty of houses mummy.”

Mr B and I look at each other amused and impressed at Miss M’s use of a new word, ‘plenty.’

Then a sense of dread fills my heart as I realise what’s coming next…
When Miss M learnt the word ‘favourite’, everything was her favourite.

I know this, because she told me,

constantly,

for a week.

Miss M: “My pea dropped on a floor Mummy.”

Me: That’s OK M, you’ve got some more.”

Miss M: “But dat my fwavet pea Mummy.”

And when Miss M learnt the word, ‘mine’ then everything was ‘mine’/hers.

Including the car, the house, Miss E, all of Miss E’s toys, infact Miss M and her cousin Miss ME aged 3 even fought over the ownership of a small poo in the potty – remember?

So I knew we were in for much overuse of the word ‘plenty’ and I was right.

Miss M: “My got plenty of beds mummy.”

Miss M: “My got plenty of fruit flakes Mummy.”

Miss M: “My done plenty of wee wee on a toilet Mummy.”

Miss M: “Dat my plenty sweeties Mummy.”

Cute, I know, but slightly annoying by the 4th day.

So what did we do to cope??

Drank plenty of wine, ate plenty of good food and laughed, well, plenty…

I’m dreading the time M mistakenly learns her first swear word though.

We won’t be able to take her anywhere for about a week.