See – this is the reason why I’m not a yummy mummy – why I really am a grumpy old cow. Is it so bad that the minute the holidays begin, a small part of my lower intensine drops to the floor in dismay.
I love the order and control that school (or playschool in our case) brings to our lives. It gives me 3 hours to devote solely to the baby, and the best thing is it knackers out my highly energetic daughter. Without it, I would have a screaming, manic, sugar-craving girl – and that’s just me…
So while most yummy mummies begin the easter holidays getting out the crayons and paints and popping out the play dough – I’m marking the days down on the calender like a sleep-deprived convict and popping out the paracetomol.
Ok – the weather is nice at the moment, so that’s something. But as soon as it rains there will be problems as I try and divide myself between a demanding three year old who has the patience of Satan with piles, and a seven month old baby who has been teething for so long I can’t remember when he wasn’t a moist lump (honestly the boy needs wringing out every five minutes…)
Of course i will do the usual parks (weather permitting), walks, and toddler groups and I’m sure it will not be as bad as I expect. But I look forward to the day when normality returns to this household.
I’m sure there are other, better mums than me that relish this time. But for me, school holidays are far from holidays. They are bloody hard work.
Me…? Naughty…? Never…?