Much as I have been enjoying this week, there is no denying that school holidays are hard work. Having the children around all day, every day, for a week or more, is like living with a wrecking crew. But this half term has been easier than most. First, a long overdue long weekend in London acted as a form of damage limitation. And second, on our return from London I opted for the path of least resistance and gave up cleaning. Our house now has the appearance of a jumble sale. Clothes and toys are strewn around the house, garlanding banisters and making landings impassable. I am nor sure when I last saw the floor in Martha and Bea’s bedroom. And because the weather has been so awful there is the added joy of mud. Great clods of the stuff in the hall and on the stairs leading to the basement (the mud situation in our garden and in the park is so dire that the dog actually changes colour whenever we let her out).
Over the years I have found that trying to keep the house looking nice during the holidays involves either vast expense (you have to be out of the house doing things all day), or leads to insanity (you sweep around the house, hot on the heels of your children, cleaning in their wake like a demented skivvy).
Sounds slack, I know, but we are eight days in (they all had inset days as well), and I haven’t shouted at anyone yet – well not terribly loudly, anyway. Time to don my new t-shirt (present from lovely sister-in-law, Hattie) from Twisted Twee. It is part of the Self Help Apparel range, and I think they should be handed out on all maternity wards.
NB This photograph was taken in the mirror – the words are reversed so that from the front they appear as gibberish, but whenever you look in the mirror (which is actually not that often) you get an unexpected morale boost. Better picture on the website shows it both ways.