Claire Dunn: To fly or not to fly, that is the question for my family
Decisions, decisions, decisions. It's January, it's grim out there, and the Dunn household is desperate for something to look forward to.
So the burning question is: Stay at home or go abroad? That's right. It's time to consider our holidays.
My hubbie and I will almost certainly have the same debate that we have had for the last few years – do we think our children are old enough to go abroad?
And the answer will always be the same. No.
The thought of hanging round in an airport with two boisterous young children, trying to entertain them for hours on end is a definite no for us.
Add that to the thought of sitting on a plane with other travellers frowning at the little ones, who would almost certainly crank up the volume when the novelty of being on a plane wears off – always nails the deal.
A holiday in this country it is then.
And the destination? Why the great British seaside, of course.
Our humble motor will be loaded up with suitcases full of clothes that we probably won't need. There will be buckets and spades, footballs and fishing nets, and I'll have to squeeze in boxes of toys the kids swear they can't do without.
And yes, the children will ask 50 times, 'are we there yet?'
And there will be a dozen of occasions that they will want to stop for the toilet on a motorway when there are no service stations for miles. On the plus side they won't be bothering anyone but me.
You've got to love the holidays.
Holidays after you've had kids are certainly a different kettle of fish to those that have gone before.
My husband and I have been lucky enough to explore various countries over the years. With no ties, we have been able to grab a last-minute deal, pack our bags and hop on a plane.
We have spent many lazy days by the pool reading books or topping up the tan. There's also been a bit of culture on a few European city breaks.
It's all different now – in many ways.
We now have to contend with the dreaded school holidays and, of course, the inflated prices they bring.
That means our days are whiled away on beaches the length and breadth of Britain with the children in tow.
We go hunting in rock pools for mini beasts and treasure, build sandcastles and jump the waves.
My eldest son will spend hours with a fishing rod and a bucket catching crabs before tearfully putting them all back in the sea at the end of the day.
There are donkey rides, visits to zoos and parks, swimming pools and chutes.
We will spend most of the day eating and mopping up dribbling ice cream, applying and re-applying sun lotion, or silently having a battle of wills over sun hats.
And at the end of the day – and if we are on a holiday park – it's off to the mini disco and show before carting two shattered youngsters to bed.
But we wouldn't have it any other way.
For it means we get to be big kids all over again.
Abroad can wait.
Shhh! Just don't tell anyone.