The Christmas holidays finally come to an end this this week.
Preschool opens again on Monday after three weeks, to rousing applause and cheers from parents (or at least, myself).
Three weeks it has been closed. Three long weeks.
I know that some people (aka smug tw*ts, according to my deliciously ranty friend Beta Mummy) will tut and say that I should appreciate every moment with my precious children and believe me, I do to a point – that point being mainly yay no packed lunch to make! – but honestly, I CANNOT WAIT for these holidays to be over.
I need to get back into working after the almost scary Christmas lull, I need to not spend so much money in a bid to keep them entertained particularly when I’m not actually earning anything, my eldest misses her friends and can’t seem to stop whining and fighting with her brother and vice versa and above all, we need our routine back before I completely forget how to leave the house before 10am.
The week leading up to Christmas was quite nice actually.
With festively decorated garden centres we were spoiled for things to do in crap weather, as long as those things were visits to garden centres. That pre-Christmas bit is full of fun and excitement and as long as you avoid the shops, you’ll survive. You can justify the odd lazy day in your PJs watching films, it’s just a week after all, and you’ve been getting up and ready for the school run so it makes a nice change.
It’s these two post-Christmas weeks, when the presents are opened and the magic is dwindling which seem to drag like a stubborn dog on a wet walk.
We had big plans for the time twixt Christmas and New Year. So many jobs to do, walls to paint, people to see.
We did nothing. Nothing. We didn’t even buy the paint. It was nice, for a while. Then it felt lazy.
But at least we were all off, together as a family. We did bugger all, but we did it as a family.
As we schlep into week three of the Christmas holidays though, I can’t help but think that it feels a little excessive.
Get back to school already, kids.
I want my quiet soft play afternoons back, and my measly one-at-preschool-and-one-occasionally-napping one hour a day (four days a week) of me-time, so that I can do some work and get some headspace.
I feel a bit frazzled and I want a nap.
I don’t think that’s too much to ask.
Stay strong folks, the end is nigh.