There is something about June. It’s that summer term feeling, the end of exams. Celebrating the summer solstice and watching the sunrise at Stonehenge or Glastonbury Tor. A time of carefree summer days and nights of wild abandon. And of course it’s the start of festival season. Having grown up in Somerset with Glastonbury festival on our doorstep it has always played a huge part in my summer. From the early nineties of my childhood when we just popped in for the evening in the back of the land rover to watch our favourite bands, to my first time being allowed to camp in 1999, having just finished my GCSE’s. I haven’t missed one since. I have always stayed from Wednesday to Monday, always resisting the temptation to nip home for a shower (leaving the site breaks the magic!) I have seen the festival change from totally overcrowded, crazy and a little bit dangerous to slowly becoming more and more family friendly and middle-class. My love for it has never changed.
I have gone from sleeping in a cheap lidl tent and packing nothing but wet wipes, vodka and mars bars, through to a more civilised time of cocktails, plastic wine glasses and falafel wraps. My whole family go; my Mum loved it and we would spend days drinking ale in the acoustic field, watching circus acts and buying brightly coloured pottery. We even got my Gran there for the first time last year. In 2011, my first year in a tipi, I fell in love with tipi Tom. By 2013 we were living together. By 2014 we were married and I was pregnant. As I sat in the tipi field drinking elderflower cordial and watching little girls with bare feet and fairy wings skipping round the campfire, grubby little toddlers playing in a sandpit and babies banging drums under a big painted tipi, I couldn’t wait for our child's first Glastonbury. Now we are six days away and I am suddenly having my doubts and thinking; ‘why are we doing this?!’’
It is amazing how quickly babies change, just as you have got used to them being one thing they wake up one day being something completely different. We came home from France feeling relaxed with a happy, chilled out Oak. Tom still had a few days off work and with various family gatherings and camping trips arranged we continued sleeping in the van. The more that was going on and the more people around, the happier Oak seemed to be. This is the start of Tom’s busy period as he puts up tipis at various festivals and events over the summer and I have been lucky enough to have joined him for the past three years. This year is no exception. We have spent only a handful of days in the yurt; it is well hidden amongst a canopy of green now, the grass and bracken up to ours knees. It is hot so we have the doors open and it quickly fills up with flies and insects. There is a certain sweet, musty smell in the air that takes me straight back to the morning sickness of this time last year. I can’t help feeling quite relieved that we will be spending our summer on the road. Whilst Tom sets up for Glastonbury we have stayed with family in Somerset. Suddenly Oak has decided he doesn’t want to sleep and is waking up every couple of hours through the night. I am exhausted. He is also not keen on being put down at any point during the day and has taken to screaming and launching himself angrily towards my boobs to show his disapproval. I wonder whether he is starting to teethe or is maybe missing Tom being around or perhaps just feeling unsettled with the change in routine. Although we never really had much of a routine anyway. I suddenly feel terrible about this.
On top of that he has become a bit more sensitive and certain things scare him; a dog suddenly barking, the crazy battery operated singing, dancing cockerel at my Dad’s, someone sneezing. Yet when we took him to the circus that my friend was performing in he sat mesmerized though the whole show despite all the loud music and sudden bangs. We also took him to the Green Scythe Fair for the afternoon which was his first taste of a mini festival; he seemed to love it. Although he would suddenly rather be pushed around in the pushchair than carried in the sling, much to my distress. It feels too vulnerable to have him away from me, where people could fall on him or drop things on him. He also did the most explosive poo ever and I had to strip him off and wipe him down in the middle of a field, much to his amusement. Luckily it was a beautiful dry sunny day. But what if it was wet and muddy?
We have our own tipi which we have slept in since we met, however we decided this year it would be easier to take our van. It would be warmer, drier, safer and more sound proof. It also has everything we need in it, from extra bedding and endless clothes, to inflatable bath and gas stove. Unfortunately my drive shaft broke two days ago and Bumble is now sat in a garage with no hope of being fixed before the festival. We are going to be in the tipi after all. I have been trying out various different slings with the hope of finding one that Oak will be happy and comfortable in. Tom has also suggested pushing him round in a wheelbarrow. Oh my. The weather forecast is starting to look wetter by the day. Having seen our consultant a few days ago we have just been given the go ahead for Oak to start on solids. He has so far tried broccoli, cucumber and mango. He is very enthusiastic about it all; I am quite scared! Baby-led weaning and festivals. Oh my.
So with less fairy wings, hula hoops and cider, and more water proofs, ear defenders and baby wipes we are packing our bags and bracing ourselves for our first fun-filled, family Glastonbury. Oak will either love it or hate it. I will either come back feeling all warm and fuzzy, with that post-Glasto glow or I will end up feeling frazzled and overwhelmed thinking 'never again'. At least I know that if it get's really bad we can just go home. I’ll let you know how it goes!
I have gone from sleeping in a cheap lidl tent and packing nothing but wet wipes, vodka and mars bars, through to a more civilised time of cocktails, plastic wine glasses and falafel wraps. My whole family go; my Mum loved it and we would spend days drinking ale in the acoustic field, watching circus acts and buying brightly coloured pottery. We even got my Gran there for the first time last year. In 2011, my first year in a tipi, I fell in love with tipi Tom. By 2013 we were living together. By 2014 we were married and I was pregnant. As I sat in the tipi field drinking elderflower cordial and watching little girls with bare feet and fairy wings skipping round the campfire, grubby little toddlers playing in a sandpit and babies banging drums under a big painted tipi, I couldn’t wait for our child's first Glastonbury. Now we are six days away and I am suddenly having my doubts and thinking; ‘why are we doing this?!’’
It is amazing how quickly babies change, just as you have got used to them being one thing they wake up one day being something completely different. We came home from France feeling relaxed with a happy, chilled out Oak. Tom still had a few days off work and with various family gatherings and camping trips arranged we continued sleeping in the van. The more that was going on and the more people around, the happier Oak seemed to be. This is the start of Tom’s busy period as he puts up tipis at various festivals and events over the summer and I have been lucky enough to have joined him for the past three years. This year is no exception. We have spent only a handful of days in the yurt; it is well hidden amongst a canopy of green now, the grass and bracken up to ours knees. It is hot so we have the doors open and it quickly fills up with flies and insects. There is a certain sweet, musty smell in the air that takes me straight back to the morning sickness of this time last year. I can’t help feeling quite relieved that we will be spending our summer on the road. Whilst Tom sets up for Glastonbury we have stayed with family in Somerset. Suddenly Oak has decided he doesn’t want to sleep and is waking up every couple of hours through the night. I am exhausted. He is also not keen on being put down at any point during the day and has taken to screaming and launching himself angrily towards my boobs to show his disapproval. I wonder whether he is starting to teethe or is maybe missing Tom being around or perhaps just feeling unsettled with the change in routine. Although we never really had much of a routine anyway. I suddenly feel terrible about this.
On top of that he has become a bit more sensitive and certain things scare him; a dog suddenly barking, the crazy battery operated singing, dancing cockerel at my Dad’s, someone sneezing. Yet when we took him to the circus that my friend was performing in he sat mesmerized though the whole show despite all the loud music and sudden bangs. We also took him to the Green Scythe Fair for the afternoon which was his first taste of a mini festival; he seemed to love it. Although he would suddenly rather be pushed around in the pushchair than carried in the sling, much to my distress. It feels too vulnerable to have him away from me, where people could fall on him or drop things on him. He also did the most explosive poo ever and I had to strip him off and wipe him down in the middle of a field, much to his amusement. Luckily it was a beautiful dry sunny day. But what if it was wet and muddy?
We have our own tipi which we have slept in since we met, however we decided this year it would be easier to take our van. It would be warmer, drier, safer and more sound proof. It also has everything we need in it, from extra bedding and endless clothes, to inflatable bath and gas stove. Unfortunately my drive shaft broke two days ago and Bumble is now sat in a garage with no hope of being fixed before the festival. We are going to be in the tipi after all. I have been trying out various different slings with the hope of finding one that Oak will be happy and comfortable in. Tom has also suggested pushing him round in a wheelbarrow. Oh my. The weather forecast is starting to look wetter by the day. Having seen our consultant a few days ago we have just been given the go ahead for Oak to start on solids. He has so far tried broccoli, cucumber and mango. He is very enthusiastic about it all; I am quite scared! Baby-led weaning and festivals. Oh my.
So with less fairy wings, hula hoops and cider, and more water proofs, ear defenders and baby wipes we are packing our bags and bracing ourselves for our first fun-filled, family Glastonbury. Oak will either love it or hate it. I will either come back feeling all warm and fuzzy, with that post-Glasto glow or I will end up feeling frazzled and overwhelmed thinking 'never again'. At least I know that if it get's really bad we can just go home. I’ll let you know how it goes!