Last Night’s Recon Mission
Kike and I went on our reconnaissance trip to the beach last night, just the two of us. It’s about a ten minute walk from the hotel, down a little winding path that opens out to a boardwalk leading right to the sea. There are signs claiming “disabled access” and to be fair, it’s decent but I’d still like to see how a wheelchair would actually handle those slight bumps and gaps.
The moment we stepped onto the boardwalk, I felt it, that calmness of the sea. It’s just so beautiful. We stood there for a few minutes, looking out, saying nothing.
Of course, we couldn’t help noticing the couples sitting at the beachside restaurants, enjoying late dinners and wine, their evenings stretching lazily ahead of them. We looked at each other, both a little jealous, then turned back towards the hotel.
We never did make it to the AI musical as planned. Instead, we ran into the couple I’d met earlier in the sensory room, sitting in the main entertainment area. We joined them for a chat and it was great. They told us one of the reasons they booked this hotel was to meet more SEND parents. Tick. Summer found herself a new friend too, which made me happy, she’s always more herself when she’s got a little sidekick to run around with.
Back on our balcony, I mentally mapped out the route to the beach again. The pushchair would be essential. River would happily walk there but I didn’t fancy my chances of him walking back. Now I’d seen the boardwalk, I knew we could push it right down to the edge of the sea. Sandcastle toys? Check. iPads? No, phones will do if we need them. The plan was: breakfast, then beach, early start.
Before bed, we somehow made even more friends, this time with a couple sitting on the balcony opposite ours. We ended up having a loud, balcony-to-balcony conversation while our sleeping children kept us locked inside. I’m sure the rest of the hotel loved it.
Beach Day Begins
River woke up early so we watched some ipad together allowing the others to wake up on their time. “BEACH! BEACH!” began after I explained the morning. After some gentle prompting, he changd it to “BREAKFAST! BEACH!” which felt like a small win.
We went to breakfast without the iPad, he can manage it, it’s just more… energetic. Short, sharp screams. I pre-emptively removed all cutlery to prevent another knife-throwing incident, while Kike went to get his food. Summer looked at me and asked, “Are you embarrassed?” “No sweetheart,” I said, “just a bit early for screaming.”
The walk to the beach went exactly as planned, pushchair and all. When we arrived, both kids were thrilled to see the sea. Towels down, Kike took his post in the water and I sat on the sand, keeping an eye on River’s unpredictable movements.
We lasted 55 minutes.
Summer jumped in the waves but was frustrated she couldn’t practise swimming like in the pool. She built a sandcastle, admired it for two minutes and then wandered off. River was happy picking up handfuls of sand and returning them to the sea. Kike took him out for a short swim but he got annoyed as he couldn’t go further.
Around the 45-minute mark, a school trip of about 50 children descended on the beach. It was chaotic but honestly, I was grateful. A perfect excuse to pack up and head back.
The return journey was less smooth. Everything was now sandy and so were we. I was grateful for the pushchair, which was already filthy enough that sea water and grit could only improve it. Back at the hotel, a minor miscommunication meant I ended up showering two sandy children alone while Kike sat at the snack bar thinking we’d meet him there.
By 11:30 a.m., both kids were clean, in bed and on their iPads. Verdict: the beach has been done. We can all now tick the box and never mention it again.
The Pool Plan That Wasn’t
After lunch, I went to the sensory room for my hour with River and then Summer went to Kids Club with her new friend, leaving the three of us. We had a little rest before I suggested we check out the other pool, the one I’d visited on Day 1 when it was peaceful and quiet.
This time, it was anything but. The pool was rammed with inflatables and big kids bombing in and out. I couldn’t see a free sun lounger. My stomach sank.
I bailed.
We lured River away with promises of pool toys and “another pool.” He agreed happily. We congratulated ourselves on our smooth parenting… until he realised the “other pool” was the baby pool.
“NOOOOOOO! NOT BABY POOL!”
And there it was: meltdown. Screaming, hitting, crying. My fault entirely. I’d shown him the other pool and then taken it away without explaining, a big no-no when it comes to changing plans.
We retreated to the room, lay in the dark, and had a mutual cry. Eventually, he was back to his iPad and juice and I was left marinating in mum guilt.
Kike insisted that I take some time for myself, so I took 20 minutes for a solo swim before the Dinosaur Show. I cried a bit in the pool, watching other families laughing and splashing together. Then I shook it off. Focus on the wins.
Dinosaur Highs and Lows
I reunited with the boys for the Dinosaur show. River is in his pushchair. He’s disregulated. He’s seeking familiar comfort. The beach morning has thrown him. River loved the show, it was just 2 of the entertainment crew dressed as explorers with a powerpoint type thing and again some kind of plot that I did not follow. But he loved it. My mum guilt was easing. Afterwards, you could meet the dinosaur puppets. Kike, without thinking, let River out of the pushchair.
He ran to the stage, bypassing the calm queue of children. Meltdown #2 arrived as we made him wait his turn. When he finally got up there, he beamed, fed each dinosaur a bone, and then sobbed his heart out saying “BYE BYE DINOSAURS.”
The Afternoon Spiral
By 4:15 p.m., I was out of ideas. Normally, we’d do baby pool time, but nothing was going to plan. I asked if he wanted a swim. His answer: “Sensory room.”
Back we went into the quiet dark with the bubble tubes. My body was tired but my brain was doing that weird, guilty loop of “must salvage the day.”
At 5 p.m, I made one last attempt at a pool trip. He wanted the big pool. I couldn’t take him alone and Kike was still with Summer. “Baby pool?” I suggested. Cue meltdown #3.
So – room, gummies, iPad, fake baby crying every 20 seconds.
The day was over. Dinner was ahead and the wins were few but I put him in the snazzy holiday shirt I’d bought just so I could at least look at him and feel slightly cheered up. Sadly this was a very short lived win as he fell asleep before dinner so who knows what the night ahead will bring. I’m really trying to stay positive but it’s really hard today.
Reflection
This is one of the personal reasons I write the blog, so days like this don’t grow into “the worst day ever” in my head.
Yes, there were loud, intense meltdowns.
Yes, I was tired and frustrated.
But River went to the beach for the first time.
He saw dinosaurs and fed them.
He’s okay.
Tomorrow: back to the plan. Breakfast, water park, lunch, sensory room, chill time, pool, dinner. Regulate, repeat, try to enjoy our last full day.
50 days of River 
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