Monday was the first official day of the summer holidays!
And here is how it went down.
It turns 6.41am and here they are. Who listens to gro-clocks anyway? Not my kids.
I can tell the big one hasn’t had enough sleep, it was very very hot last night. God help us all.
I reluctantly get up and help them get dressed because they don’t appreciate that since there’s no school there’s no urgency. Sadly, the majesty of the lie in means nothing to them.
It gets to 8am and, lo, we have the First Tantrum of the Day!
I don’t know what it’s about, I was in the shower, but he’s on the floor shouting ‘Mummy is naughty’ so I gather it’s somehow my fault, which isn’t a surprise as it usually is.
The other one is in full-on meltdown mode too and I don’t know what that’s about either.
I decide that rather than dealing with it like an adult, I’m going to shut myself in my room while it simmers down a bit and text pictures of my enraged children to my husband.
I’ve decided that today is a day for being at home.
It’s way too hot to do much, we have just had a patio built so I feel I should sit on it, and more importantly, I firmly believe it’s best not to peak too soon.
Once the novelty of the garden and the bajillion toys that we own has worn off – I’m being optimistic and guessing at some point tomorrow – I’ll start facing the outside world and the hordes of children everywhere, but for now I’m saving my money and my sanity and we’re staying put where there is shade, I’m not constantly having to remove mosquitoes from my children and I don’t have to pay £2 for a cup of tea.
Kids are busy emptying all the boxes of toys out and screaming at each other.
Meanwhile, I’ve stripped and remade the beds, done two loads of washing, emptied the dishwasher and hoovered. I’ve ordered craft supplies from Amazon. I’m basically living my best life.
The rest of the morning is spent reiterating the importance of wearing clothes, eating ice lollies, being asked for snacks every 5.34 seconds and being subjected to the ‘bottom bot bot’ song on repeat. In case you don’t know it, it’s a song my son made up about his bottom. There are various other versions which I will leave to your imagination. FML.
I revisit last night’s Ocado order and add more ice lollies and snacks. And a bottle of wine.
By now the new patio is looking like a Little Tikes catalogue, albeit one that’s been left in the sun and faded a bit.
The kids argue over the Little Tikes Cozy Coupe. We’ve owned that damn thing over two years and neither of them has shown as much interest in it over the entire time as they’re showing now.
It escalates. There are tears and screaming. My neighbours are going to have me evicted if this carries on for six weeks.
I take the oldest child up to her room to calm down, meanwhile the smallest child falls off the roof of Cozy Coupe repeatedly despite being asked not to do that.
So far, I’ve resisted the calls to put the paddling pool up because I know exactly how that goes.
By midday, I’m worn down and inflate the sprinkler and paddling pool. The kids are happy, for about fifteen minutes. Then they are bored.
I put up the tent. Children argue over tent which is clearly big enough for both of them. Children get bored of tent and go indoors to play.
I question how bright they actually are when they emerge some time later wearing winter coats and refuse to take them off because ‘that’s the game’.
I make the kids a picnic lunch.
They then feed picnic lunch to dog and cry about wanting ice cream.
I log on to my Ocado order and add another bottle of wine to my order. For medicinal purposes.
Only five hours left until daddy comes home and another five weeks and four days to go!