Fights, tears and 210 hours of Monopoly later, I’m in a school holiday daze. I’m the head of my children’s entertainment committee and the acting head of catering but I’m looking forward to retirement from both those roles. Cooking is a chore and shouting, “get off the bloody computer” is becoming dull.
I have run out of low budget activities and if I read one more clean wholesome nutritious paleo educational fun advice for the latter part of the school holidays post on social media, I’ll scream at the smug happily married financially savvy yummy mummies who write them. Sigh. Next week I return to the tyranny of the school run. So much to look forward to in 2016. Today I am turning up the Ackadacka and dreaming of escape.
Today as I wave goodbye to the looooooong summer holidays and send my eldest child back to her maximum insecurity prison, I can hear a collective sigh of relief from the parents of school-aged kids. Most of the Aussie breeders I am friends with on Facebook posted photos of their kidlets in new uniforms this morning; much happiness from the parental as anything brigade. In my home I could sense the misery as soon as I woke up. My teenager was SO happy to see her siblings lolling about on the couch as she climbed into her scratchy uniform and grunted her goodbye. The little sisters return to their reform school tomorrow. If you spot a woman in a school zone on Thursday with a glint in her eye it could possibly be me.