Summer summer…summertime

It’s that time of year again. School is over, classrooms closed. No more packed lunches, early morning drop offs or frantic sunrise searches for school shoes. Yes the summer holidays are upon us!

For some of us we have just made it through our first week or so, for others it has already been many. Whatever stage you are at, I feel you. Pass the wine.

I love my children, I really do. In small doses. With the volume turned down and preferably with food in their hands.

OMG the food! Just how much can two small people consume?!? I thought I had it well planned. I did a massive supermarket shop, carefully planned the weeks ahead with a variety of fun and mostly nutritious meals. Bought vast quantities of snacks and fruit and yoghurts.

I was wrong, very very wrong.

It’s been a week and my supplies have already all but completely vanished. How something so small can consume the entire contents of Sainsbury’s supermarket in 2 days I will never know.

I have decided the only way to survive the next four weeks is to take out a small mortgage, open my own commercial food market and watch the profits being devoured by my two blonde offspring, who seem to have the combined stomach size of 16 baby elephants. Perhaps if I at least set them up into child labour on said market, I could at minimum forego the repeated cries of boredom that befell them every half an hour.

Im not going to lie, it can be tough at times, as a single mum there’s not always enough time for rest and there certainly isn’t much money to spread around, but we make the most of it. Whether it’s days at home playing in the expensive wooden playhouse me and mum spent Christmas labouring over, at long last, or days out with family, I try to make these days count when I can. I am constantly scouring the web for fun (and free) things to do, and there is a reasonable selection across the weeks.

And when I have my bad days, and these days are part and parcel of living with a chronic condition, I stick on a Disney film and we snuggle up on the sofa singing our hearts out (one of my favourite things to do).

I love my children, I really do, and I hope they realise, at the very least, that I tried.

Now pass the wine.

 

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