If it's not a gripping match of tennis that goes to all hours it's the book I don't put down because it's the holidays; or a compulsory family movie night because we don't have to get up early in the morning.

Kym put the whole family through Top Gun - again - one night last week. As he is an ex-Royal Australian Air Force aircraft technician we couldn't deny him the pleasure.

Jets dog-fighting on the big screen is fun, but I stayed up way too late!

It wasn't as bad as the night my L-plater and I decided that a great way to get up some night hours would be driving back from Adelaide in the dark.

You can only imagine two girls in a mini up against hundreds of semi-trailers tearing along the highway until 2am - slightly drained.

When I do drag myself off to bed for my restful holiday slumber, the weather conditions seem to be in on some kind of joke.

I lost at least one night's sleep to pelting rain, deliciously constant for hours. It's true that I didn't want to miss hearing a single drop go tink-ta-tink on our tin roof.

Then there was the loudest thunderstorm I can ever remember, which sent teenagers scuttling about the house while our dog Buster nearly lost his mind.

The night of the long rumblings had me wondering - how on earth do people living in the bush, with a pack of dingoes nearby howling at the sky, ever maintain their sanity - it's a wild ride.

The beach holiday nights got a bit hairy too, hanging out in the annex in what seemed like a perpetual wind storm.

Generally, in the wee smalls, I felt like I was in the belly of an enormous jellyfish as the walls billowing in and out consumed me.

Of course being on holiday means the whole family has picked up a virus or two, they are all as sick as dogs.

Not quite howling but certainly barking at the night sky and coughing up a storm.

Call me crazy, but I think the holidays are hurting me more than healing me.

Anyone need another break to get over the downtime?