Anyway, I dreamt that the children were going back to school. Which, you might think, is the most perfect dream I could possibly ask for - except it wasn't. It was an anxiety dream...the kind of dream that really stresses you out and no matter what you do, the situation just gets worse and worse.
I dreamt that they were going back to school and I was so chilled from the hols that I was running really late. Nobody was dressed, packed lunches weren't made and it was 2pm and we still weren't ready. I woke up in a sweat, which isn't unusual during these weeks when I realise that I've got a day of my kids, but this time it was from the anxiety of them GOING TO SCHOOL. Either The Husband is spiking my drinks or the universe is trying to tell me something. Perhaps the NSPCC is trying to brainwash me. Whatever the cause, I've been a bit shocked.
So I've been thinking about this dream today. I've been wondering if in my subconscious I am actually enjoying the school holidays. Remind me never to do therapy. Anyway, this dream has panicked me a bit about having to get ready in the mornings so I am taking the following precautions so that the dream doesn't come true:
1) Camp out at the school gate the
2) Get that space food that NASA gives their astronauts and do the packed lunches now. That food lasts for light-years apparently.
3) Make the kids wear their uniforms every day from now on.
4) Start ignoring everyone in preparation for some of the mothers in the playground.
5) Buy lots of new outfits to ensure I am the best dressed.
I digress. Because my reason for this blog was to have a good old moan about the summer holidays. But I'm actually doing okay. I've only wanted to smash my head against the school gate twice. The Husband has taken two weeks off and we've decided rather than go away we're just going to do 'daycations'. For example, we went to Cambridge today. With the usual fighting in the car, spilt drinks, shouting, arguing etc. it was exactly like going abroad for two weeks, just without the swimming pool. These daycations seem to be working out okay because each day we do something different and I'm not spending any of my child benefit because The Husband is paying.
Not that I'm counting, but I've got exactly ELEVEN days left with the children after The Husband goes back to work. And I think I can do it. I really think I can. Of course Twitter has helped. And Valium. And the fact that the school gates opening once again is not just a dream.