It’s the 349th day of July. English and Welsh school children are still attending school. Attending in body at least. Sweaty bodies at that.
Most kids have mentally given up the ghost weeks ago. Most parents (mothers) are desperate to check out from the relentless demands of the last few weeks of school.
Bring a bottle for the bottle tombola. Napkins for the summer picnic. A contribution for the teacher’s gift, no hold on the teacher’s assistant needs one too, oh hasn’t she left? What’s the new one called? Can someone email the school?
Have you put your name down for a stint ‘manning’ the bouncy castle at the summer fair? You should do it; you know first aid.
The summer concert is on Wednesday, no that’s the leaver’s assembly, no that’s just the kid’s leavers assembly, the parents one is on Friday, I think. Yes, it’s Friday I remember, I have back-to-back meetings that day, I am going to have to beg my 12-year-old boss to let me go.
Did you pay for the leaver’s hoodie on Parentmail? No, you said you would do it. Christ, Emma is in tears now, I will have to take the cash to school tomorrow.
God, make it stop. Time for a holiday. Yes, that’s just what fraught mums need; (to organise) a holiday.
I didn’t have summer holidays as a child. My parents took the requisite two weeks off from work and dedicated one of those days to visiting Marks and Spencer’s and WH Smith to buy new school uniform and essential studying supplies.
Marks and Spencer’s didn’t even have a café back then. It’s ok, I don’t need your sympathy. We bashed it in family therapy years ago.
Like most parents, my husband and I wanted to do better for our kids. To give them the sort of family holidays our younger selves would have killed for.
To date we have managed to take our kids to a variety of amazing destinations. Oh yes, I can proudly announce that my kids have visited Spain, Greece, Italy, Croatia, Switzerland and France, enjoying family arguments in all of them.
Ohh this looks like fun!
Why do we still think that after limping through the last hectic and completely draining few weeks of school, a week or two of negotiating airport delays, night flights, unfamiliar food, lumpy beds, sunburned shoulders and sandy bottoms will be a recipe for rest and relaxation?
I can see why my parents didn’t bother (although the family therapist said is was more complicated than that).
I am being churlish. I am tired. I want the schools to break up. I actually want to go on holiday with my family (the arguments pass and overall, our family holidays have been a memorable for the right reasons).
I want to celebrate another school years passing, another one we have survived (and thrived).
I want my kids home with me and my husband around to enjoy what’s left of the light mornings, lazy afternoons and the cool summer evenings. I want us to all be together again.
I want a happy, peaceful, soul enriching summer before the school uniforms sales start creeping in and I wearily ask, ‘When do they go back to school again?’.
Expect this in the shops any time soon …
It’s personal, is professional, its political. It’s This Woman’s Work.
This is a re-write of an article I posted this time last year but I could post it every year as the work of a summer mum is never done! As ever I would love your views and also if you can, please consider restacking to reach other frazzled mums or add a little ❤️ to feed the hungry algorithm.
New subscribers always welcome and don’t forget paid subscription is only £3.50/$4.80 a month and even less annually. Paid subscribers receive all my writing, plus my weekly newsletter The Weekly Witness. Women centred writing from a mother, former midwife and mental health support worker, a mental health survivor and activist. Not bad for less than the price of a coffee a month!
With love and gratitude, Rebecca X
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