The Summer Holiday Fear
Put your hands up in the air (put your hands up in the air) if The Summer Holiday Fear has set in.
The Fear encompasses all that goes with trying to entertain small people for an entire 6+ weeks. From the infinite piles of laundry, to the arguments over who sat where last, I felt it was about time it was given a name.
Holiday Blues makes it sound morose and quiet, which it is anything but. It’s high octane and bloody loud.
Schools Out for Summer whilst it’s an epic song, makes it sound thrilling and exciting. Where in actual fact, particularly if it’s raining, its boring and quite frankly a bit beige.
Summer vibes perhaps? That wonderful warm, sun kissed feeling, feet up with a perfectly chilled glass of Rose in hand, watching the world go by. I bet you can practically taste it. But hold up, you need to fix the soggy, and now unfixable but oh so cute Fairy House, whilst chasing a wasp colony that appears to descend from nowhere, just as you sit down. Then the sun goes in, and a small person kicks your now warm wine over en route to tell you why punching their sibling was a justifiable action. Then you remember why, summer holidays can be, well, a bit shit.
Whilst we have successfully managed to make it towards our 4th week, it has not been without some epic fighting, both physically and mentally. My usual enjoyment of being with my tribe, some how evaporates upon getting in the car on the last day of term. By the time we are paying homage to Maccy D’s en route home, The Summer Holiday Fear is full on established.
The Summer Holiday Fear
I can’t decide if it is just because of the impending month(s) ahead of us, or there is a more to it than just The Fear? I think it is a genuine dread of consistently being a responsible adult. This is not something that comes naturally to me. In my opinion, we have too many years ahead of us where being responsible is the only choice. Therefore I am rebelling. There are no reasons I can see that require me to be an actual bonafide adult in the foreseeable future. I potentially need to put my glasses on, look a little closer, as Im sure there are many a reason. But, we’ve made it 9 years in on the Mummy front, and survived! Tell me I’m not the only one winging it?
Pink Hair, Don’t Care
As I am sure is the case in every family, we have our little Summer Holiday traditions, like the aforementioned McDonalds on the last day of term. One of our favourites, and the rebel in me loves, is the girls and I having pink hair. This began a few years ago, when we were in Spain and I had bought a pink shampoo and conditioner in duty free. It was literally the most fun, so has become a deep rooted girly pamper, and a quiet interval from The Fear.
As The Hubs works at home through the summer, he isnt with us by rule for very long. So pink hair, don’t care was absolutely no problem, when it is only Team Twiglet and I, in a country where we are just a face in a sea of many. As our summer holidays have taken a different format this year, we are on more of a staycay than a vacay. But, as all responsible (cough cough) mothers would do, I found a solution to our predicament.
I left the rule book by the door, and we did what we do best. We popped into Terence Paul and watched the magic happen. It was absolutely the most fun we have had in ages. The girls are so proud of their pink hair, as am I!
Much to my disappointment, Thing 2 wasn’t so keen on having pink hair, but I will work on him.
For now at least 3/4 of Team Twiglet have pink hair, and guess what, WE DON’T CARE!