Countdown to summer (holidays)

path to beachIt feels like this summer has lasted forever already, and school hasn’t even broken up yet! I have a feeling that, when they do, the rain won’t be far behind – but maybe that’s just me being miserable and cynical. To be honest I wouldn’t mind a bit of rain to give the garden the good drink it so desperately needs. Maybe we could carry on having warm sunny days but cool wet nights?

It’s the final countdown this week. I’ve just been to Poundland and stocked up on craft stuff so I’ve got something up my sleeve for those inevitable ‘I’m bored’ moments, and of course the freezer is stocked to the gunnels with the essential mini-magnums. Tomorrow is Sophia’s school trip – we’re off to a farm plus soft play extravaganza which she will love – and then the following day is her last ever in preschool as she starts school nursery in September. We distributed presents and cards for the staff there this morning, but I volunteered to be class rep for collecting donations for Anna’s teacher’s present, and so I still have a few people to chase, and then the vouchers to buy. Plus, of course, Anna has also announced that she wants to make brownies for her class teacher and TA, and I can hardly discourage her from showing generosity and gratitude, so we need to factor that in this week as well.

We’re heading straight from pick-up on the final day of school to Euston to get the train to Manchester to stay with my brother and SIL for a couple of days, and then going straight over to Liverpool to see my parents, so I need to pack this week as well. I’ve also realised that I may have made a strategic error in planning to go straight to the station, as on the last day of school Anna normally comes out clutching approximately 703 pieces of work, ranging from lovely poems I want to keep forever through to scraps of ripped paper with a piece of lack-lustre colouring she did one wet play back in November, not to  mention a forlorn assortment of hats, socks, cardies, hoodies, water bottles and lone mittens, most of which I gave up for lost months ago, and a dirty PE kit. I have no desire whatsoever to carry these round the country with us (although the thought of accidentally ‘losing’ most of them in my brother’s house is rather tempting!), so somehow I have to extract these momentoes of the year the day before. Wish me luck with that!

A run of two weeks in which Sophia, then Anna then I, have all had tonsillitis has totally foiled my grand plans to be on top of the housework before the start of summer. I could be catching up now, but this is also my last chance for 7 or 8 weeks to sit alone in a cafe sipping ice cold freshly squeezed orange juice and eating a salted caramel chocolate brownie I don’t have to share, so I’m afraid there’s no way I’m passing that by in favour of hoovering under the sofa, however badly that needs doing!

What I’ll be doing instead is spending a couple of separate weeks in Liverpool with my parents, a week’s family holiday in Cornwall, swimming lessons for both children, and then a mixture of lazy pyjama days doing some craft or cooking, reading or Duplo, or watching one of the dvds I’ve squirrelled away over the year, local trips to Vestry House Museum or Epping Forest or the local park for a picnic and a game or two of hide and seek, and perhaps a couple of slightly bigger trips to museums or out to the coast if I’m feeling brave. Not forgetting the third year of our annual ‘Mummy and Anna Day’ when my husband takes a day off work to spend with Sophia and Anna and I head off on an adventure together. Two years ago we got the train to Birmingham and went to Cadbury World (my mothership!), last year we went to London Zoo and then for ice-cream sundaes, and this year we’re planning on a traditional seaside trip to Broadstairs for paddling, fish and chips on the beach and probably more ice-cream sundaes.

Nine and three are very different ages, and the children require very different things of me. Anna is generally extremely patient and loving with Sophia, who in turn adores her sister, but there are moments, on mornings when they are already screaming with frustration at each other and me by 8.20am that I have dreaded the summer holidays. Weeks and weeks of no break for me, and balancing everyone’s conflicting demands can feel daunting, even though I also love spending time with them both and look forward to long days without the tyranny of the school run. However, I hope I have managed to come up with a good balance of family activities, and of both girls (thanks to help from aunty, uncle and grandparents!) getting windows of 1-1 time with an adult. And if it all goes wrong, then you’ll be able to spot my house – it’ll be the one with CBeebies blaring out 12 hours a day whilst I rock quietly in the corner, chain-eating mini-magnums.

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Long days

wildflower meadow

“The days are long but the years are short” goes the internet parenting cliche. Like all cliches it has more than a little truth in it. Right now I am really feeling both sides of this.

The days are literally long at the moment – the hottest sunniest summer in recent years seems like it should be a cause for unmitigated celebration, and I feel a bit guilty and joyless saying this, but it is a bit much for me. I don’t think I’m designed for temperatures above about 22 degrees (or below 0!), and so hot weather makes me a little tired and grumpy and languid. It would be nice if all I had to do was saunter down the the beach, have a swim, and then find a shady spot to eat ice-cream, but sadly I don’t live anywhere near the sea (sob), and however hot it gets the children still need taking to school, and feeding, so the grocery shopping needs doing and meals need preparing, and the house hasn’t miraculously started self-cleaning. The heat also creates extra jobs – fighting a war on the ants who are determined to take over my kitchen, watering the garden and a bit of paddling pool maintenance!

The other problem is that the children sleep less during hot, light evenings and mornings, and so they get progressively tireder and grumpier too. The long days have felt even longer this week as poor little Sophia has had another bout of tonsillitis, and so has been off preschool and at home with me. I hate her being ill, obviously, but I do love the cuddles I get from my usually super-independent little girl when she’s poorly. Although, when its 30plus degrees, extended cuddles with a feverish little limpet are, umm, sticky.

But while I sit watching the umpteenth episode of Peppa Pig and attempting to comfort a crotchety toddler, counting the minutes until husband is due home from work to take over, I am also feeling all the feels at Anna coming to the end of Year 4. The years are so bloody short! How did we get to here? Last two years of primary school coming up, and staring down the barrel of secondary school open days and admissions process. It seems no time at all since we were going through that process for primary school, and that felt a big enough leap.

Anna is feeling it herself this year. Year 4 has been a great year for her. Her class teacher has been amazing (to be honest we’ve been very lucky with all her teachers so far, but she has got on particularly well with Mr M), and her confidence seems to have grown in leaps and bounds. I would love to press pause and have a re-run of Year 4, and what makes it worse is that I know she would too. I am not the greatest with change, and although I have tried not to let Anna see that. I can sense that she has inherited it from me. I was chatting with her and one of her friends about secondary schools (it’s already a hot topic of conversation), and her friend was bubbling with excitement that senior school is only a couple of years away. Not so Anna – she would like things to stay just as they are for the time being. It’s nice, in a way, because it is testament to how happy she is in primary school and what a great environment it’s been for her, but it does make transitions tough. Actually, though, like me as well, she finds the prospect of change much harder than the change itself. When she actually starts Year 5 I know she’ll be instantly filled with enthusiasm for a new teacher, new classroom and new things to learn.

Before I get too sentimental or moany, one thing I am absolutely unequivocally loving this summer is the World Cup! When I was younger I used to get really into the big international competitions – Euro ’96, and the 1998 and 2002 World Cups were my heyday, but I always took an interest until somehow life and young children got in the way. This year, though, Anna was really interested and we decided we’d watch the key matches with her, and I have got right back into it. It helps that England are playing so well, of course – I was at pains to make it clear to Anna that resounding 6-1 victories are very much not what England fans are accustomed to. The nail biting match against Columbia was much more familiar territory, but we did it! Having watched (alright, hidden in the hall because I couldn’t bear to watch, and made my brother tell me what was happening) Gareth Southgate’s penalty miss send us crashing out of Euro ’96, Tuesday’s victory on penalties felt like particularly sweet vindication for him. He’s definitely my hero of the moment (other, of course than golden local boy, Walthamstow born Harry Kane), and I am just wishing that Theresa May could show just a small amount of the England manager’s decisiveness, leadership and calmness under pressure!

How are you all finding the heatwave and end-of-term shenanigans and the football?