And the award for dumbest parents goes to...

So, it turns out that the other weekend we were pretty terrible parents. We went to stay in Swansea with some friends, so, naturally Katie was getting super excited for the seaside. So much so that she couldn't get to sleep until way after ten the night before, which puts her at least three hours down on the sleep she needs. Now, it's April and it's the UK. It's not gonna get that hot, right? So we don't pack sun cream or sun hats or anything like that. It turns out to be a great weekend weather-wise, but still not really that hot. Down to the beach on the first day, and Katie's already flagging due to missed sleep. We decide to continue anyway. As we reach the beach, I say to Rach: "Do you think we should get a hat for Katie?" "Nah," she replies, "she'll be alright. Besides, we haven't got one with us anyway." "Fair enough."

A few hours later, we're back at the house and Katie is really miserable, but won't eat or sleep. She's got a temperature and starts puking. She's gone and got heatstroke. Her weekend is pretty much ruined. Way to go mom and dad. Obviously, we feel like shite, but there's not a lot we can do, apart from offer her lots of water, affection and attention.

There's a lesson to be learnt here, but I'm still not quite sure what it is, apart from always take a hat. Parenthood, it turns out, is exactly like they tell you. Like nothing you can prepare for. There are moments of frustration like nothing you've ever known, but these are balanced with moments of ecstatic joy at witnessing the simplest of things - like just recently, she's started to spontaneously tell us she loves us, and she recently said the word 'anything' perfectly in context with the sentence she was speaking, and I have no idea where she picked up how to say it, let alone what it means. Don't get me wrong, generally I don't like kids at all, especially babies, who are stupid and annoying. But this is my little girl, and she ain't like all those other mewling brats out there. She's my mewling brat, and she's made of awesome.

So basically, when she's suffering and you know it's your fault and was entirely preventable like this recent heatstroke weekend, you feel so wretched that basically you'd tear your own heart out if it would help. In a way, it's good that it happened. We'll both of us from now on go out of our way to not feel like that again, so it's made us better parents. Until the next time we get it all wrong, of course.