The Easter holidays are passing in a blur, I’d like to pretend that this is partly due to the fact that once they are done, both the children will be at nursery, and I can’t imagine how I will manage without them. But this would be a lie. I can’t wait. Yes, I know I should enjoy these precious, golden years, this time when J and I are the world to our children; but I’m looking forward to getting a bit of time back for me, a bit of time when I’m not being called stupid, when there aren’t toilet trips every two minutes, and when I don’t have to break up a fight over a Peppa Pig stuffed toy. I have been planning what I’ll do with the time, since about October; I know I will get nowhere near as much done as I’d like, but still, I’ll have 15 hours a week to give it a good go….or just sit down and drink a nice hot cup of tea and lose myself in a good book.
As the children were beating each other senseless on the trampoline earlier, I was discussing with J just how very hard parenthood was; the constant whinging and whining, the being ignored, the fights, and screaming hissy fits over the tiniest of things. I don’t think it helps that they are so close in age, and so they get frustrated and egged on by each other in equal measure. Equal enough measure to make my head feel like it is going to explode sometimes. There are precious few hours in the day which aren’t punctuated by the pained screams of “Mmmmmmuuuummmmmmyyyyyy”, “I’m stttaaarrrvvvviiiinnnngggg” (usually ten minutes after their last snack), “I need a weee”, “I need a poooo”, “I’m boooorrreeeddd”, “Can we watch TV??”. Whilst I just hum some tune or other to myself, have a little dance in the kitchen, and pretend it’s all happening to someone else.
I was wondering, with J, if the good times outweigh the annoying, I’d like to say they do…or at least the value of the good times means they do…but even J, much more softhearted than I, couldn’t wholeheartedly confirm it, in fact he couldn’t even halfheartedly confirm it. Of course, they are both funny, adorable and very loved (I just have a funny way of showing it), and sometimes they even catch me off guard and make me proud, but by gum they’re hard work. But in a weeks’ time, for 15 glorious hours, they will be someone else’s hard work, though I know they won’t be, they’ll be a delight at school, as the boy gets nothing but high praise from there (probably because he doesn’t punch his teacher). But that’ll be 15 whole hours for me to regroup, relax and recharge my flattened batteries. So the Easter holidays can continue to pass in a blur, I’m just hoping that the summer term doesn’t.