Things you only know when you have been to Glastonbury with kids

I know what you’re thinking. Glastonbury? With kids? Surely the only thing to say about that is:  just don’t. And indeed, this might be a valid point. There’s a strong argument for leaving them with grandma and heading off for some old-school hedonism, or just accepting that your festival days are over and doing ‘grown-up’ Glasto by watching it from the comfort of you own sofa with a nice chilled bottle and some snacks from Waitrose.

 In fact, I’d probably be giving you just this advice, if I hadn’t found myself in a unique set of circumstances last year: a golden chance to volunteer for the brilliant charity White Ribbon Alliance who have a presence at the festival every year. This, combined with zero childcare and a deep yearning to return my festival days pushed me and my partner into what seemed like a lunatic decision. We took our three children all under 8 for six nights at the wettest and muddiest festival on record.

 And you know what? We had a blast.

 I’m not going to tell you it was easy. No matter where you go with children , the same old stuff will occur; squabbles, melt-downs, hunger-induced yelling – and that’s just the grown-ups.

 But Glastonbury is a magical place. Hot or knee-deep in squelch, there’s something truly mind-blowing about it that I think children love as much as the adults.

 If you want to try it, here are the things I've learnt since being there with children

 1) It's bigger than you remember 

 And it feels even bigger when you’ve got three small people in tow. In your misspent youth you probably had a great time randomly wandering about. Not any more. With kids, you may need to accept that, although your favourite  band are playing just two fields away, two fields may just be an impossible trek. It’s an exercise in Zen, mainly the Second Noble Truth: ‘The origin of suffering is the person who’s attached to your leg and won’t let go, not even for an ice cream.”

 2) Trolleys are the new prams. Kind of.

 You’re going to feel pretty special if you manage to get your hands on a garden trolley, customise it with ribbons, artificial flowers, and a hula hoop roof. “Yes”, you will think to yourself as even the youth nod at you approvingly. “I have still got it. I am still cool. Is cool still the word we’re using?” Until it rains and your trolley will be next to useless, and suddenly you realise those young people you thought were your friends start to give you “Wow, that will never be me when I’m a parent”, glances. So thinking about how you might get around the site in all the varieties of British weather is a good plan. Slings are good. Piggy-backs might help. Staying put and watching the nearest band even though you’ve never heard of them, also works.

 3) You have to accept your kids may not ‘gig’ well

 Standing still, facing in one direction, and looking at a little tiny person jump around a big stage in the distance, might not be your kids cup of tea. If there’s a band you really want to see, take something for them to sit on and some snacks, a basic toy or two, and hope for the best. Try not to be disappointed if your six year old doesn’t love Radiohead as much as you do. It will come.

 4) And then you have to accept that you may have to ‘gig’ differently

 You might have missed the Kidz Field in your days of freedom, but it’s fantastic. You can immerse yourself in everything from music workshops on miniature violins to top quality children’s theatre. You’re right next to the equally amazing Circus Field, where all kinds of lunacy occurs – your kids won’t want to leave but if you do, you’re not far from the Acoustic Stage so you could tag-team with your partner and finally get to hear a band or two. As a final alternative to the usual soothing bedtime story, take them to Arcadia, a fifty tonne robotic flame-shooting spider set to rave music, guaranteed to send them off to sleep beautifully.

 5) Being active takes on a whole new meaning

 Your kids might have to miss some school to do the festival, but they don’t have to miss learning. Take the chance to tell them about the roots of the festival, and activism which is still alive and well. My seven year old is still talking about being on the Park Stage with me to remember Jo Cox last year, and this year she’s keen to take part in the #RESIST march, as long as she can make a playground-insult-placard with jokes about bottoms and Trumps.

6) Vaseline and glitter are your friends

 Pack plenty of cheap leggings, a sharpie pen to write our mobile numbers on their arms (in case of getting lost), and plenty of Vaseline and Glitter to decorate their faces when the going gets tough. We might not be cool any more, but we are at least still sparkly.