Brownie Holiday

Well I'm not sure I would have been as enthusiastic about the idea of staying in Whiteley Woods in the pouring January rain, but maybe that's the ravages of age making me negative. Certainly Tilly seems to have been fairly taken with her first Brownie weekend away. The details are a bit sketchy but, from anecdotal and physical evidence, we have established the following:

1. I needn't have eaten the yoghurt as the yoghurt pot met an untimely demise early on in proceedings so she was given a new one. It was a Petit Filous.

2. I should have searched harder for the date she had a tetanus jab since she managed to be the only child to hurt herself on a barbed wire fence. She cried but was relieved the horse had sneezed in someone else's face and not hers.

3. She was the first to go to sleep on both nights, at 10pm and 9pm respectively. Which may be why she was asleep tonight by 6.55.

4. The £5 was spent "unwisely" by some on nothing but sweets, and "wisely" by Tilly on a packet of Flumps, a pottery squirrel and a cuddly toy. Yet another cuddly toy. I think I'd have preferred her to buy flying saucers.

5. The thoughtful panda book I so lovingly hid in her pyjamas as a treat confused her entirely and she didn't think it was hers. It's currently in lost property.

6. She had a banana for breakfast. Which is odd because she doesn't like bananas. Mind you I used to like Weetabix on Guide camp and it didn't taste the same at home.

7. It's tricky to make conkers and grass stick on paper plates.

8. She can be a effective waitress, cook and washer upper. I'm currently writing the kids a rota.

9. Reverse tie dying neckerchiefs is harder than you think.

10. It is inadvisable to try roasting marshmallows over a candle.

11. They walked, they played and they ate ice cream in January. Which she thought was barmy.

12. Brownie leaders still do inspection. I'm thinking of introducing bedroom inspection as a way to earn pudding.

So overall she had a good time I think. She managed to come home with almost everything that she took with her (apart from the book obviously) and a sleeping bag that belongs to someone else.

The negatives? She was a bit stressed that she still has homework to do, and has spent some time lamenting how she doesn't feel like she's had a weekend. Which is pretty much how grown ups feel all the time but I'm not sure saying that would have been helpful.

Since coming home she has played Lego with her dad, done some cartwheels, played cuddly woodland animal tea parties with her sister, eaten carbonara, watched The Voice (she was too tired to press her cushion button) and fallen asleep in five minutes flat, after a huge number of hugs and reassurances that she will see me more from now on.

It's quite nice to be appreciated and to know that, despite her enthusiasm, she isn't in too much of a hurry to grow up just yet. I'm proud of my independent girl but next time she goes away I'm going to come too.

Packing

It's 7.30 in the evening and I have just been to the supermarket to buy a single Longley Farm yoghurt and a box of cornflakes. I am a committed mother.

At home we have located most of what we need including a pair of waterproof trousers (somewhat short in the leg), an old top (that really isn't that old but what is when you are seven and grow out of clothes after about three months),  a working torch (miracle), a purse containing £5 to spend on sweets and crisps (seriously £5 - I'd buy fruit salads...500 of them), and the ingredients to make fairy cakes tomorrow (because apparently shop bought ones won't cut it).

And why? Because it's brownie holiday this weekend. And my eldest daughter is going away from home for two nights. Don't, I might cry.

They are travelling to the wilds of...well Sheffield. And indulging in activities that include the need for a yoghurt pot of specific proportions and a cereal box. No I don't know either. I only know I need to eat a rhubarb yoghurt at some point this evening.

The whole going away from home thing is freaking me out a bit. She is extremely enthusiastic which manages to be a hugely positive thing (isn't she grown up and brave) and at the same time wholly unacceptable (since she was only born about five minutes ago).

Despite her enthusiasm she has encountered "future home sickness" twice this week already. This is a phenomenon that most people would refer to as "worrying" or perhaps "butterflies", but she does like to make up her own medical conditions.

Well to counter the overwhelming sense of guilt I feel at letting her go (in-spite of the fact that she actually wants to) I bought other things in the supermarket. Including a new pair of age 7-8 pyjamas, some stripey socks and a twee novel with a panda on the front to hide in her suitcase. It doesn't make me feel much better but at least I won't be worrying about her wondering naked through the room having had a onesie popper malfunction. And it might just make her smile....or cry. Oh shit I didn't think of that. Maybe I'll show her the book in advance.

Ok, I'm off to eat a yoghurt. And some cornflakes.