When it’s back to school!
YES!
YES!
WOOP! *air punches* YES! MY DAY IS FINALLY HERE!
As you’re reading this I have just slammed my front door behind me, walked into the kitchen, and done a little dance. OK, I’ve done a massive dance. I can’t really describe it, but I would say it pretty much looks like this.
Why am I dancing? Because after nearly seven weeks TODAY THE CHILDREN ARE BACK TO SCHOOL.
Oh don’t look at me like that, are you surprised really? After all, I’ve paid my dues, like I say, it’s nearly been SEVEN WEEKS.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’ve had a lovely summer holiday with them. In fact, you might be a little surprised to find out I was actually quite looking forward to them. After mistakes of previous holidays I took to my beloved excel with a glass of wine and managed to create what I thought was the perfect work/life balance over the holidays. That was, until The Beast turned into the child from hell, and I spent the first two weeks of the holidays seriously considering looking up full time employment, away from THEM. But I drank some wine, some gin, and ate some carbs and eventually, after THE birthday things calmed down. We have had a really lovely time, especially last week when the four of us went away on holiday. Just us four, being us, nobody else interfering, no phone calls, no emails, no nothing.
As I wrote this blog I’d just finished setting out uniform whilst carrying on with the ongoing argument “Yes you are going to school even if you can’t wear your Spider-Man suit” with The Beast. Will I miss them? NO. My coffee will be drunk in silence and hot, my house will be tidy, and when my bum hits either my desk chair or the toilet I will not suddenly be needed to extract a raisin from a nostril or a Ninja Turtle from the vegetable rack. I will think about them of course, especially The Beast as he is in a new class with new friends. Will he be happy? Will he eat his lunch? Will his teacher be nice? All things that play on my mind, but I won’t miss him, after all, it’s just six hours, and then I’ll pick him up and we’ll go swimming.
I appreciate that I am possibly in the minority, that I should be wondering what to do with my time, but I like being me. There are only so many times I can take an elbow in the ribs, answer questions about body hair, and listen to One Direction before my brain breaks. OBVIOUSLY, there have been some highlights of having the boys at home for SEVEN weeks, bed time tennis lessons, picnics in the parks, impromptu walks, seeing them grow – both in mind and annoyingly in size. I’ve enjoyed days out, and days at home, I’ve enjoyed McDonalds, family dinners, play dates, swimming, BBQs, water fights. It’s been great, but now it’s time for everyone to get back into a routine, we’re all starting to get twitchy. The Beast is excited too. His friend gets to come to breakfast again, swimming lessons begin again, and most importantly he has a new lunch box (which I’ll tell you about later in the week).
I also know that I’m looking at the routine through rose tinted glasses at the moment. That getting up early and throwing the children from the car through the classroom door will probably lose its spark the colder and wetter it gets (and the harder the Chunky Monkey gets to karate chop into his seat). I know that there will be homework, restrictions on days out with The Chunky Monkey so I’m back at pick up time, and work will drive me mad instead of the children. I’m sure I’ll forget pack ups, trip money, water flasks will leak over reading books, and I’ll run out of glue when it’s time to mount the homework. I’ll get stuck in traffic, it will snow, I’ll have forgotten the PE kit.
But right now I’m sure that’s better than the alternative (24/7 of “Mummy, can we make a pretend milkshake that looks like it’s been spilled” – Eff off Mr Maker), so I’m going with it.
Here’s to Year 1, I’ll let you know how it goes. #passthegin.