London with a three year old - the lowdown

This week we were lucky enough to enjoy a trip to London whilst the baby had a sleepover at his Nanny's. A night away in a swanky apartment opposite Harrods no less [you don't need to know where we stayed so I'm trying to act casual but it's just not every day you stay opposite Harrods. I won't mention it again].

 

A romantic break for two...plus the three year old.

 

Yes we took Hurricane Henry on our (very) mini break to London. In fact, the trip was designed with him in mind - the rare opportunity to go away for a night presented itself and we knew London would be kind of a big deal for a small boy from Devon. We also knew he had been fobbed off with "in a minute" almost every minute since his brother arrived nine months ago and reckoned a bit of undivided attention for 24 hours, for old time's sake, would be a nice treat. 

Well, a treat it was. Quality time with much less shouting and under-breath swearing on my part (I am all too guilty of 'you're fucking kidding me I SAID YOU MUST BE KIDDING ME DARLING' outbursts at home, and I just didn't have that urge whilst away). It was fun. Seeing his little face when he got on the Underground for the first time was priceless. It blew his mind bless him. I could conclude the post here with a picture of the three of us with our city break brochure smiles (#lovingeverysecond #makingmemories). But I thought I'd share some of the other moments. The moments that don't ever make the brochure...here are my Top 10:

 

1) Henry asking "is this London?" at every station on the journey up, including ours before the train had even left the platform. And when our train manager announced the range of drinks and snacks available in the buffet cart he shouted "Mmmm hot chocolate. Yummy in my tummy. Then it comes out my bum!" Somebody tutted.

2) Him falling over chasing a pigeon outside the Natural History Museum. We had to crack out an emergency Rowntree's Random to distract from the bleeding knee.

3) Our overly ambitious expectation of 'showing him Hyde Park.' The reality was he became weirdly obsessed with the Diana memorial fountain and wasn't interested in doing or seeing anything else. We only got him to leave by promising "we'll come back this way" and then buying a teeth-rotting orange lolly instead. I recognise that this is not a desirable parenting tactic.
 

4) Our equally overly ambitious expectation that he would walk everywhere. HA HA HA HA HA. At home, he generally does walk everywhere. In London, his legs were seemingly too tired to walk anywhere. I think 2.5 stone of child has killed my husband's shoulders.

 

5) Us hoping the 'big boy trip' would encourage him to try new foods. By new foods I mean actual meals and not Bear YoYo snacks or jam on toast cut into FOUR triangles. We played it safe by heading to Pizza Express for our early evening meal. Sat with G&T in hand, I read out a whole range of really grown up foods he could eat because he was on a grown up trip with Mummy and Daddy. He ate dough balls. Just dough balls. Though he did try an olive (I think it was the lure of the cocktail stick/weapon).

6) Back at apartment, my hubby uttered the phrase of doom: "did you pack him a bedtime nappy?" Shit. I always forget he still wears a nappy at night and couldn't risk the pissy sheets. Hubby had to dash to Sainsbury's Local.

The pad. Citybase London apartments were top notch.

7) I ran a nice hot bath. I even took a face mask. I can't tell you how much of a novelty this was, not least because our bathroom at home doesn't have a bath. Henry pottered in, having undressed himself, and asked to get in. We shared the bath. And the face mask.

8) After finally tucking him in and settling down for some grown up time* he got up. He needed a wee. Twice. He was thirsty. Twice. He needed to 'have a little chat about Hamleys.' Every so often we'd hear the air con unit kick in and later discovered he had found the remote for it and was controlling the room temperature from his bed. The little sod tinker.


 

[*by grown up time I mean telly, obviously... once upon a time I might have packed something special for a night away. I packed a Christmas pyjama top and his sports shorts. He's a lucky guy.]

 

9) We went to Hamleys. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD the people working there are on crack surely? Nobody is that happy to be at work. Nobody is that happy to be surrounded by five floors of extortionately priced and annoyingly noisy toys. Henry loved it of course. And I quite enjoyed watching businessmen with huge baskets guiltily buying their kids toys because they can't give time. I'd lost the will to live by floor four. Stop demonstrating your giant fucking Frisbees near my head.

 

 

10) We also went to Harrods. Did I tell you our apartment was just opposite? *inserts monkey hiding behind hands emoji*. Did I get to look at anything in Harrods? Did I fuck. We went upstairs to the Toy Kingdom where another piece of my soul died.
 
The big question is whether I would recommend taking a three year old to London for the night? YES I WOULD. In all honesty, it was pretty special.



#makingmemories #lovingSOMEseconds
You're welcome.

The Unmumsy Mum
I'm a finalist in this year's MAD blog awads, votes received with thanks! http://www.tots100.co.uk/vote/

We stayed in a fabulous Knightsbridge serviced apartment by City Marque 
https://www.citybaseapartments.com/uk/london/knightsbridge-serviced-apartments-by-city-marque