It’s Monday night of a bank holiday weekend, and all is well.
The first “summer” bank holiday weekend is always hotly anticipated. It’s a relatively new invention in Ireland, and was only introduced in 1994. Up until then we had our bank holiday long weekends in June and August when the sun was more likely to shine. May is dodgy weather wise, especially early May so this gave a new risk element to the long weekend.
Think of bank holiday weekends and I think of going away for the weekend, or having a barbecue and having friends over, or of going to the beach. Of doing stuff.
That extra day off work puts pressure on to have a plan, to go the extra mile and get the most out of the weekend. We only get 5 bank holiday weekends in the year (Easter, May, June, August and October) and they each should be appropriately celebrated.
Except, I’ve discovered this time that they don’t. I’ve had the best bank holiday weekend in ages.
We knew the weather was going to be awful for the weekend so we didn’t make any plans. Therefore, when we woke to biblical rains on Saturday we weren’t disappointed.
I had to do some blogging business on Saturday morning (in case you missed it I was on the radio) so my husband and kids stayed home and mostly played Lego and hung out. They chilled. (and the laundry fairy did loads of laundry too, yay). I got home and we drank tea and chatted and the kids
interrupted showed me what they’d spent the morning creating. (I also bought new shoes when I stopped to buy things other than new shoes on the way home. Pic below.)
We went out for dinner, we’d planned to go out on Friday but I was too tired and happily our wonderful babysitter was also free on Saturday. We ate and drank and chatted. More chatting.
Sunday we had a lazy morning with banana pancakes for breakfast and then decided to catch some air between the showers, which lead us to end up in The Farm Shop in Tinahely for lunch (go there? It’s like a mini-Avoca with the friendliest staff in the world, and a playcentre in a shed) and a wander on the Railway walk. We watched the final episodes of Better Call Saul.
Today I had my lie in (What, it was my turn!). We went to a shopping centre for some essentials and our four-year-old chose his outfit for my brother’s wedding, he was so enthusiastic about it’s coolness that we bought it there and then. It’s incredibly cute.
We came home and hung out again. The kids played on their scooters. I made dinner. Normal stuff. No pressure.
It was a great bank holiday weekend. The bad weather forecast made us stop making plans and that meant we just actually relaxed. Sure, we could have struggled on through our adventures in the rain but we chose not to.
We hung out together and chilled. We’ve no luggage to unpack. The lunches are made since 6pm. I feel rested.
This has been one of the best long weekends in ages. Maybe now we’ve inadvertently realised what bank holidays are for. To chill. I’ve suffered from long weekend FOMO (Don’t google- it means fear of missing out) for years, why didn’t anyone tell me?