It was the night before Christmas…No not really, but it really feels as exciting! One more sleep until the return to school for all three of the happy little people.

         The schools have systems, policies and an infinite amount of hand sanitiser. The children have to take a packed lunch and a water bottle only, no book bag full of various bits of treasure tut, drawings and a stray packet of Haribo. We can only but try and see what happens over the coming weeks.

         The happy little people are feeling excited to be returning, they are looking forward to seeing their friends. The Twins are slightly anxious due to going into a new classroom with a new teacher, but Child One returns to all the same as before. He is excited to be returning to the bus! Except now he will have a set seat and will need to wear a face mask. I give it a couple of days before we’ve lost the face masks. Child One’s school will finish at an earlier time of 2:30pm but the Twins are there for the full school day. Six glorious hours of time where I am not at their beck and call.

         These past 25 weeks, the happy little people have had a fantastic time. Not to blow my own trumpet, but they actually like hanging out with their Mum. I know that this won’t be the case forever, but I’ll put it out there on the internet now while I can. I can then also use it as evidence when the hormones kick in and they regard me as something they have walked in. I have fed them, entertained them, nurtured them, attempted to educate them but I think my Ofsted report would be an RI (requires improvement). They have had my attention for so long they have become entitled, spoilt happy little people. Entitled for love and care, not materialistic things, because let’s face it we are a family of five living on one income.

         The income provided by Husband, who has worked tirelessly the whole time. Nine hour days from Child One’s bedroom. Angry 1990’s hip hop/house and garage music blasting. And despite every time I passed the door and could see him engrossed in a game on his mobile phone, I didn’t make a sarky comment (not every time). Eating his lunch at 4:20pm so when I place his dinner on the table at 6pm, lovingly cooked, he declares he is not hungry. And I’ve had to hold back the rage of irritation. Okay, no, it didn’t always get held back. But we are still married and have found better ways to cohabit and communicate. Which is good really as I can’t afford a divorce and when I ask Child One who would he chose to live with, he looks genuinely traumatised! Ha ha ha (me of course).

         I have managed to find some moments of calm in amongst the chaos, and a way to block out some of the demands. I have done yoga classes in my lounge whilst children are playing games on devices and husband is working. I have lowered my standards of cleaning and tried not to let it stress me. I have no idea when was the last time I changed my bedding, but fear not, it will be done this coming week. Cat still hates us all being home all of the time, but he has been ever so nice to me since his short stay in cat prison while we were at the family caravan (every cloud).

         My happy little people, I love you more than life itself, but you have drained my patience and happiness buckets and they need re-filling. I need to repair and clean the house before a well meaning relative sends in one of those cleaning companies that germ shame you. And I need to spend time with people that I can discuss other things than what would I rather? A giraffe neck or an elephant’s bottom? (already have the elephant bum) And people who don’t have to ask them to pick something up for the fifty millionth time or need me to wipe their bums following a tricky poo. You also need to return because my teaching was highly questionable and I’m pretty sure your real teachers don’t swear. Let’s face it, I couldn’t even get the names of shapes right and found the planet Uranus far to funny to say.