There I was, sitting under two bored and whiney kids when my phone beeped. It was a text from school reminding us all that it was back to abnormal in four working days. Saturday and Sunday are just around the corner but that helpful message just served to reminded me it is the last weekend of the school holidays.
I have been feeling the dread since the start of August but when my phone beeped and I read what it had to say, the dread multiplied.
In a gesture of solidarity, the sun slipped behind a cloud and stayed there for five minutes.
Shy Boy had been invited to an impromptu play date and off he went, absolutely delighted with himself, grinning from ear to ear. It was lovely to see.
Not so lovely though to have Oldest Boy literally hanging off me, moaning in my ear about how unfair it all is, what can he do, and in case I didn’t hear him the first seventeen times, how unfair it all is.
The dead weight in the pit of my stomach is strangely reminiscent of my own back to school days.
No matter what we got up to this week, no matter what time it was when I checked the clock, I thought to myself “this time next week they will be in school/I will be on a school run/making lunches/supervising homework.”
When the boys want to close the kitchen door, which is open from early morning till late at night, I stop them.
“Please leave the door open. This time next month we’ll have to keep it closed.”
This time next month it will be the end of September. They will have been back at school a month!
Also one of my boys likes to take chocolate sandwiches for his lunch.
Go on. Give out to me.
I’m off to the shop to buy myself a bottle of Treat to cheer myself up.