Easter ‘holidays’.


This astonishingly accurate e-card has been doing the rounds on facebook this week. It sums up quite nicely the mood in our house today. I always start school holidays with the good intentions of loads of interesting, stimulating activities, with a lot of get-togethers with friends, trips to see relatives, long afternoons in the park, etc. And to be fair, we have done most of those things so far, and we’ve had a lovely time doing loads of exciting things.


Exciting thing: feeding lambs

Hanging out at the gym

Hanging out at the gym

And I am very lucky to have friends and family around to help with the entertainment; don’t get me wrong, I am eternally grateful. But today it all started to fall apart. Arriving home after an exciting morning, the eldest suddenly came down with a temperature and tummy ache, and proceeded to swoon down on the sofa, Victorian lady-stylee. From time to time, she would issue angry instructions to me and the other two for drinks, bunnies and blankets to be brought forth, or bits of train track removed from the vicinity. The train set sprawled across the living room, blocking any access to the kitchen. I had to settle an argument about train carriages by finding some tiny Charlie and Lola stickers to decorate the ‘boring’ ones. Other highlights of my day include:

The four year old tried to French kiss me. Twice.

When I went to pay for the bread in Lidl ,  instead of pulling out my purse, I produced a Dr Who sonic screwdriver, much to the amusement of the rest of the queue. “It’s my son’s!” I muttered, to no effect whatsoever.

Whilst I was making a very ineffective attempt at dusting, the younger two proceeded to wrap some of the kitchen implements in tin foil, and put others in sandwich bags. They then filled the biggest pan up with the contents of the tea set, plus some random household items.

The playroom in a pot

The playroom in a pot

In the space of ten minutes, Tilly had done a ‘ninja pirouette’ in our tiny hallway and broken the letterbox flap, Will had trodden on and broken the head off one of the singnalmen from his train set, and the Dyson was starting to get that burning hair smell, which indicates that vacuum cleaner doom is imminent, unless urgent de-hairing takes place.

When Rich came home, some hours later, he immediately assessed the situation as critical and offered to go out for wine.

School holidays. Quite an effort sometimes, eh? And less a holiday, more of a survival thing. Don’t get me wrong, I love my children dearly, even when they act more like wildlife than actual children. I like spending time with them. But next holiday, I think they might be taking a long trip to stay with the Devon-based members of the family.


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