When the school holidays arrive, I am ready. I’ve had enough of early rising, shouting and
stressing, running up and down stairs looking for PE shorts that have gone astray
and a clean school tie. No more making cream cheese and cucumber sandwiches for
my daughter’s packed lunch at 730 in the morning, and peeling carrots that she
will never eat.
Yes the holidays. Hurray! Lots of lazy mornings, al fresco
dining, harmonious children, card games, cafes, craft, long walks, museum
visits, a bout of baking.
In London before we go away, the reality is somewhat more
mundane – the oven is broken, the cards are lost, it’s pouring with rain and my
son only half enjoyed the visit to the Pompeii exhibition at the British
Museum. My daughter is doing holiday sports, which means many more cream cheese
and cucumber sandwiches, more peeling of carrots and dashing around looking for
things. This morning for example we desperately dried her washed-but-not-dried sports
shorts with a hair dryer as time was ticking away. She demands to know when the
real holidays will begin (ie trip to the South of France).
I am aware that this era will not last and in a few years, they
will be off doing their own thing in the holidays. Soon they won’t want to
spend time with us preferring the company of their peers. It would be great to
focus on this fact now, when I’m nagging my son to get off the x-box/computer/screen
and shouting at my daughter to hurry up. This too shall pass and I will be left
looking at my thumb nails nostalgically remembering the magical few days we recently
spent in North Wales, where the children and their friend made a short film called,
“Jessica Almost Blond” which included lots of running up hills and shooting
each other, set against the back drop of the most stunning landscape. They
edited it, added music and further dialogue. I loved hiking along coastal paths
holding their still-small hands. Even the downpour of torrential rain on the
last night was exciting. Who needs an oven?
