Not So Kiddy Kaotic

Well I can’t say it’s been very kiddy kaotic round here of late – they’ve been away camping for the last week with no phone reception so I’ve not heard from them. It’s been very quiet but the trick is to keep busy.

It’s been a myriad of adventures – both with and without kids – so far this summer. We, once again, climbed Mt Manaia and this year managed to stretch out the lolly stops from ten minutes to 15. 

Taking Spotify music requests on my phone also helped add some gusto to their pace and they charged up the stairs leaving me behind listening to Ninja Turtle songs and the like, which received odd stares from passers-by on their way back down the mountain.

We also did caving and, this time, conquered the cave deemed too hard last summer. This was punctuated by Miss Eight relentlessly grilling me with questions about the little girl I mentioned who had lived there and died but whose gravestone we couldn’t find. I promised to look up the history when we got home but found nothing. Hopefully her curiosity has waned while on her camping holiday ‘cos answers I have none.

After the kids left for camping, it was time for some adult adventures: Mangawhai Tavern was the first stop, where we listened to a trio of bands, including Feelers and Dragon who entertained all generations, proving they’ve still got it. I watched as teenagers bopped along with their parents who were clearly reliving their youth, Their offspring had, no doubt, grown up being subjected to this genre by their parents, like I knew every word to John Lennon and Phantom of the Opera – two popular LPs played on my mother’s record player in the 80s. I wondered if that would one day be me and my kids and decided they would probably fall into the category of the 16-year-old girl nudging her boyfriend and smirking before pointing to her mother, high on the memories of yesteryear, who was dancing before them to the band Mi-Sex like there was no tomorrow.

Next day, it was off to the races – probably my favourite event of the year, where I had my line-up of horses already high-lighted to place, purely by name of course. I mean, ‘Sacred Rhythm’ – you can’t go wrong there.

Every year we perch on the hillside and slowly slide our way down, along with our belongings as we melt under the hot early-January sun. It’s standard practise for one or two of the babies from our group to go rolling down the hill also, and then there’s the drunken entertainment out in the car park as we queue to head to the Ruakaka Tavern.

Another repeat adventure was the Mermaid Pools, which I am still debating taking the kids over to. It can be pretty tough going and it’s hard enough hauling yourself up without losing your footing, let alone helping a youngster. But, after spotting the odd pre-schooler over there I decided that, if they can do it, my lot certainly can.

But as I write this I am taking a day out to recoup, finally reassemble the house and pack for our next adventure – our annual holiday in the Far North. Yes the peace is about to be shattered. There will be sand everywhere, constant food demands and, no doubt, squabbling. But I can’t wait.