Friday 19 June 2015

End of School Year 2014/2015

We’re nearly there.  Almost at the end of yet another school year.  Where has the time gone, blahdy blahdy blah.

In another 7 days the fruits of our loins will be underfoot for 8 weeks.

And guess what?  I can’t wait!

Yes, you read that correctly.  Granted the first week can be a bit hairy as we all settle into our new summer holidays routine.  Leaving aside the usual daily tortures that are homework, uniforms and those soul sucking school runs, here are a few of the other things I will not miss during those lovely 56 days.

Calendars and lists.  My calendar runneth over.  The last couple of weeks have been so busy, I needed to pin an A4 sheet of paper to the kitchen press, write out each day and under that list all the places to be/jobs to do/things not to forget for that day.  Bearing in mind, I am quite fond of lists; they keep me focused and remind me not to forget a child or buy dog food.  But lists also stress me out.  There’s so much to do!  I am looking forward to ripping them down and staring at a two blank calendar months with only the word holidays to sully them.

Tracksuit tops/geansaí.  Despite being the proud parent of an almost 6 year old who is head, shoulders and chest above all of the Junior and Senior Infants, the only child wearing an age 8 tracksuit top, it goes AWOL on a regular basis.  Two things happen then:  his mother cries and receives many phone calls from Múinteoir when she finds rogue tracksuit tops.  I have been tempted to say, “Lookit, if it’s in reasonable knick, I’ll take it.”  The last time it was a month before I got it back.  After I bought a brand new one.   His name is now painted on the front and back in Tippex for all to see.   After lunch boxes this one is the bane of my school year.

Lunch boxes.  One of my boys comes home with pencils stabbed through his apple and sandwiches in protest over the contents of his lunch box.  He also likes to shred his rice cake into millions and millions of pieces.  His sandwich “smells,” apples “got boring” and he “hates yogurts.” He takes a tiny tub of granola with 17 chocolate chips.  And a bottle of water to wash it all down.  Did I say I hate lunch boxes?  I hate lunch boxes.

Yogurt spills. When your child comes out of school with food all over his clothes and you wonder did he actually eat any of that yogurt or just stand there and pour it down his front.  I won’t paint a picture of the day he went to a chocolate factory for his school tour. 

The shoe fights. Every morning without fail the same argument happens in our house.  At precisely 8am I issue instructions to “please put on your shoes and socks.”  This request is repeated at three minute intervals until 8.20am.  He ends up walking hobbling out to the car in stocking feet (if I’m lucky) howling to begin the second argument that happens at precisely 8.25am every morning.  “Close the door and put on your seat belt.”  Every morning.  Exactly as I have described.  Five mornings a week.  Since last August.

Tummy Bugs.  To suffer once is unfortunate and upsetting but to have this blighter return to the house again a week or so later is just a major pain in the arse.  On the upside I have found a fantastic outdoors laundry service that washes duvets in 40 minutes for €8!  They need to get out of school and be free of whatever virus is running riot in there.

To break it down and make it even more lovely.  There are only 5 more school days left in the school year 2014/2015.  Four and a half if you consider they get out early on the last day.  That makes only 4 school lunches left in the school year 2014/2015.  They have been given a uniform reprieve since last week and can wear shorts and t-shirts if they wish.  They do wish.  Bye bye school year 2014/2015 and hello Senior Infant, Rang 2 agus Rang 4.  Oh and Montessori.  Hello Montessori.  How you doin’?        

Seriously though – where has the time gone?


  1. Yay! I can't wait for hols. Just to not have to get up and do the school-run. Five days a week is far too much.

    1. The kids complain almost as much as I do and they're only going home!