Summer ‘holidays’ my arse!

In June I was still working from home and was going to be, for the foreseeable future. I had established a routine that worked. A couple of hours of work before the Stinks woke up, a mad forty-five minutes to get them ready for school, argue about who had actually cleaned their teeth with toothpaste and not just water the onto round two of arguments about who had fresh undies on, only to discover later the youngest did get a fresh pair of undies out each morning and put the ‘dirty’ pair he was wearing back into the draw. 

Each morning I considered walking the twenty minutes to school to have some quality time in nature together to set them up for the day, but with all the undie checking I was usually too late and had to jump in the car.

I came home after dropping them off for a few more hours work. Then between eleven and twelve, I had the daily conversation in my head about going to the gym in my lunch hour, put on gym gear, walked downstairs from my ‘office’  to the kitchen and ate a cake in said gym gear with a brew and back to the ‘office’.

A couple more hours work completed before three o’clock when another conversation commenced in my head debating if I should walk or not. Usually leaving me too late to walk and had to jump in the car again.

So with all this in mind on the lead up to the summer holidays I had a great plan. We didn’t need child care these holidays I could do this on my own. I’d survived the lockdown home-schooling combined with working from home. It would be a breeze.

I submitted a flexible working pattern to work which suggested I would work 7am till lunch, entertain the Stinks from twelve till six, and then do another three hours six till nine. On paper it worked. It would save us a fortune, and I would get to spend quality time with the Stinks during the summer months. Something I had always wanted to do. A win win.

After week one I realised I had made an awful mistake.

Between seven and twelve I spent the time splitting up fights, making numerous snacks and drinks, whilst simultaneously reading and replying to emails and the odd online meeting- where I would threaten them through gritted teeth to keep quiet. But it was okay as come twelve o’clock we could relax and enjoy the sunshine.

We headed off to the football pitch in the pissing down rain  for an hours’ arguing and kicking the ball at each other’s heads, then packed our swimming bags and headed off to the gym (at least I got there this time) and spent an hour in the pool trying to drown each other. Home for an hours Minecraft, destroying each other’s worlds and then they would sit and wait from me to present some culinary delight for their evening meal before I logged back on at work for six o’clock. 

The Stinks dad would arrive home around seven giving me a slight reprieve. Or so I thought. As he had done a ‘hard’ twelve hour shift his evening activities consisted of walking through the door, quick shower then horizontal on the sofa to watch TV because he had a taxing day?!

Then repeat for fifty-six days.

So next time I decide to don my superwomen cape, someone please tell me to give my head a wobble and throw the cape in the effin bin where it belongs.