The month I’ve waited all year for has flown by so fast we’re almost in our second week of September and I wasn’t ready yet.
I longed for August for a break. I was so tired with poor health, a tough pregnancy, then dealing with the demands of a new born, I just wanted August here to be able to chill out, play with my boys and not have to do the morning school run for 6 weeks. You know, those lazy mornings of not getting dressed unless we need too, late breakfasts and carpet picnics. It just stretched out before me, all those days.
I wanted August to come so my little boy could be 5 at last like all his classmates that have been 5 for forever. The downside of August birthdays means most of your mates are always a year older and that’s a big deal when your 4, nearly 5.
I wanted August here to enjoy long sunny days (ahem… yes, I’m aware I live in England so chances were slim), picnics, visit the seaside, days out, going away for family and friends weekend visits. Not forgetting the play dates we were going to arrange…all those lovely play dates.
And now it’s September. I don’t feel rested from last terms school run. My boy turned 5! How is he even 5? I only had him last year didn’t I? And I only managed one long weekend visit to one friend and no family. I think we did maybe 3 or 4 play dates the whole summer (yes, I suck). I need another month off to do the things I didn’t do.
And tomorrow he goes back to school. He’s going to be in a new class, with a different group of friends, a new teacher. I didn’t do half the stuff I planned for him.
Yet we did so much.
We got Arley Arboretum annual passes and went for a couple of picnics and got ourselves lost in the maze. We went to Mary Stevens park on his new bike and played with his football and baseball stuff. And he defititely tried out the new water play area – how cool is that place! We visited our friends in Congleton and went on a narrow gauge engine and had a pie at our favourite eatery in Trentham shopping village. At Kinver park we went on the mini steam trains. We didn’t get to the beach, but we got our garden finished. We picked strawberries, went blackberry picking and visited a farm where we petted animals. We tested out the little tea shop we’ve been threatening to go to for months and ate cakes as big as our heads! And my youngest got big. Boy did he get big in those 6 weeks. And loud.
Oh, and I started upcycling wooden furniture because I had nothing better to do…
And yet here we are, the night before school. Kids are both in bed. I’ve just found the one piece of homework we were supposed to do, very much not done in the back of my diary and his new school uniform, is now labeled and ironed ready for a new year. Oh gosh, I’m not ready for school!
I am also not going to become the screaming banshee I usually turn into at around 8.20 every other school morning. A new leaf is being turned. I will not start yelling about him getting his shoes on and and losing my cool when he still isn’t wearing them as I’m squeezing the baby into his car seat with 30 seconds to go before we need to be out the door. I won’t mention cleaning his teeth, or tell him 432 times to eat his breakfast quicker (in my best batman growl). No way am I going to shriek at him when he can’t find his book bag that I left in the middle of his bedroom floor ready for him, or tell him to “open your eyes, it’s right in front of you”. And I absolutely refuse to be dashing out the door 5 minutes late so I have to park the other side of the village because all the car parking spaces got taken already. Tomorrow it’s going to go like clockwork. And I’ll just come home from the drop off and drink a nice cup of tea (whilst it’s still warm) without the baby screaming once. Yup.
Tomorrow is going to be fine.