I love my kids. I really do. But the summer holidays are far too long. They are ridiculous. The weather has been rubbish for more than half of it, the kids are bored stupid, and no matter how much I try to be an energetic and entertaining mother, there is only so much we can fit in around the need for naps and meals etc. And I don’t know about you, but I for one cannot afford the exorbitant cost of taking them to indoor play places, as much as it might entertain them for an hour or two.
We have just one week to go until normal activities resume. I am seriously hanging out for it. I have this beautiful vision of what Monday the 30th of January will be like: we’ll get up and have breakfast, do the mad dash to get everyone organized. Ivy will be dropped off to school with her brand new books and a smile on her face, eager to see her friends and acquaint herself with her class room for the year. After seeing that she has settled in, Lauren, Natalie and I will head to Playcentre and catch up with all of the new friends we made last term.
The morning will pass quickly, and before I know it, it will be noon and we’ll be heading home. My babies will fall asleep pretty much as soon as we get in the door, exhausted from all the stimulation, and I will sit down with a coffee and some lunch and get some writing done – oh my, how the words will flow!
Silence will pervade the house and I’ll have room to actually form a thought without interruption. It’s something I will not take for granted for at least a week. It won’t be until 330pm that the TV is turned on for the first time that day. The kids will have their afternoon tea while Ivy tells us all about her first day back and reminds me of the million things she is sure I’ve forgotten about, but haven’t.
And then, after a bath and dinner and stories, they will all go to bed, and sleep because their little bodies and minds have been so fully occupied throughout the day.
And I’ll sit on the couch, with a glass of wine and my husband and relax properly for the first time in six weeks.
One. More. Week.
I can make it. I know I can! I’m hanging on to my dream for dear life and hoping beyond hope that maybe I’ll actually start getting some decent sleep again.