Summer Term Blues

If you're paying attention (and let's face it, why wouldn't you?), you might have noticed that my posts have been a bit sporadic of late. The reason for this is doublefold, I have been in the process of finishing my wip. And finally - two years after I started, I have got there. Allotted Time is done and dusted. Well, sort of. I have lots of revisons to do before sending it to my agent, but I should get it off this week.

The second reason, and really the more overwhelming one is that this is the summer term. And life has just been - well - mad...

After half term I thought I had seven lovely weeks in which to plough through all the work I have to get through before the summer holidays, including aforementioned novel. Seven glorious weeks, to work I thought. I couldn't wait. It was going to be fabulous.

As if.

Week 1 was my own fault, as I made the mistake of launching my book then, and it took over rather.

Week 2 I was still busy post-launch, plus overtaken by sudden inertia and suddenly Week 3 was upon me.

Week 3 I lost a day to a prior engagement made eons ago back in the mists of time when I thought that I had a long lazy summer to look forward to. I also got hit by a stinking cold/cough which wiped me out.

However the good news was I got a weekend off, as Spouse took the sprogs camping and I had a blissful day at the Sanctuary with my mad twin, which was my birthday present from last year. Our birthday is fast approaching and we hadn't got round to organising it before. I wonder why not...

Week 4 is when it started to get interesting. No 3 had Sports Day on the Monday - which was also her birthday. Was mightily relieved when a downpour meant it was cancelled and I had time to get on and make her birthday cake etc. However, this meant that Sports Day was now on Tuesday, at lunchtime necessitating a half day's work for me. 1pm seems a daft time to have Sports Day to me, particularly in the heat we've been having of late, and no 3 was flaking most of the way round. Not least because her team was pretty rubbish (always the way with my offpsring), and they lost every event.

Sports Day at her school is severely non-competitive. Two opposing teams, split into groups of ten go round the field in opposite directions, attempting ten events. Each group that wins gets ten points and the loser gets five. Miraculously, year after year even when one team is storming ahead, there is a draw at the end. We were fully expecting the same this year, but the other team (who by all accounts were well in the lead) won by 5 points. Hmm, a fix methinks???

At the end I severely disgraced myself by jumping up and down like a looney as no 3's team just managed to win their last event, much to the amusement of a mum I didn't know (I do now though - the shame) who has evidently labelled me as Competitive Mum of the Year. Just as well Spouse wasn't there, he would have been mortified.

On Friday I had to remember to pack a packed lunch for no 3 as she was going to Hever Castle. I should have attended her birthday assembly at school, but no 2 had a class assembly which I had to go to instead. I therefore rearranged no 3's birthday assembly for the following week only to discover that no 4 was doing a play at 9.30... aagh.

As we were getting ready for school no 1 wanted to know if she could have a friend back to play. Given that I was preparing both for No 3's birthday party the next day and I had to get up at 7 to get to Guildford to be interviewed on Southern Counties Radio, the answer was a resounding no. Which was just as well as five minutes later another mum rang me to ask what time the school quiz finished. What school quiz? The one they're doing after school today....

Saturday was just about one of the maddest days of my life. I got up at 7 with a raging hangover, and feeling knackered as the heat had meant I hadn't slept. I don't know why anyone wants to be famous, if it means getting up this time on a Saturday, muttered Spouse. I drove down to Guildford and did my piece (huge thanks due here to the wonderful Sally James and Fred Marden who made me feel very at home and gave me a lovely plug for my book), before setting off home at breakneck speed to ice a mermaid cake. Nothing like keeping your feet on the ground...

Then it was the usual ballet run mania. I escaped home at 11.30am - in a monumental piece of bad planning I had originally arranged the party in the middle of the footie, so had to pull it forward to 1pm. Which if you have children you will know is horribly early for a party, particularly when you've organised a radio interview the same day...

I was still writing clues for the treasure hunt (the theme was pirates and mermaids) as people arrived, but it all seemed to go well. You know it's a success when at the end of the party the four pirates have to be physically manhandled off the fort/climbing frame...

Then it was a case of knuckling down to watch the football. I couldn't stand the tension so went upstairs to find things to do. One of the things I found to do was time to read an email my brother had sent round predicting Beckham would get injured, and Rooney would get sent off. Which is of course just what happened next. I am sure he cursed the match. You heard it here first.

No 1 who had been soooo certain we were going to win belatedly worked out what I had been telling her since the start, it's always a roller coaster with England and the downs are usually more frequent then the ups... We watched the penalty shoot out in disbelief (I mean, that Portugese guy, saving goals???? It could only happen to England...) I know they played crap most of the time, but that second half was valiant and it always makes penalties seem even more unfair.

Poo, said No 1 when it was over, and I couldn't disagree. OTOH, watching the remaining matches has been curiously restful...

Week5

I was out on Monday because of the twins day, and supposed to be playing tennis on Wednesday. (I know I shouldn't really organise things I want to do). Fortunately, as I have so much to do, it rained, so tennis was off, but it meant I got to finish my allotments. Finally, after two years. Now I've done it I think it's a pile of crap, but am hoping my agent might think otherwise. What is certain Spouse is never going to look at it unless I have a contract and a copy in my little sticky paw!

On Tuesday, I remembered belatedly it was no 3's Open Day. I could arrive early if I liked to pick her up (highly inconvenient as I was trying to work) - so I thought I'd whizz in at about 2.45, have a quick shufti round her class and then go and get no 4. It was only when I arrived, that I discovered there was a quiz to do, which involved visiting every single class. Now, as I have been going back and forth from the school for the last six years, there ain't a lot to discover about it, my only interest in going is to look at my daughter's work, and to please her obviously... So I ended up leaving her there, rushing off to get no 4 and then coming back and very bad temperedly doing the quiz...
On Thursday I foolishly offered to help with a pedestrian training day for year 3. No 2 was desperate for me to come and I never do anything like that, so I said yes. Oh dear oh dear. I had wanted to have a swim (the triathlon training is slowly improving, but I really need to get in the pool), but then discovered I needed to be at school at 9.20. I didn't escape till 11am, which left just enough time to get to the bank before nursery pick up.

Training was total nightmare. Getting eight year olds focussed on answering the questions you want them to answer rather then telling you everything they know (randomly) about road safety being somewhat trickier then envisaged. Also the idea was to get them to take responsibility for crossing the roads (not much pressure there, then). As the roads round their school are really hazardous (so much so when this scheme was first set up the person running it said she couldn't find anywhere safe to cross the road!), getting them to even get to the middle of an island took forever. Consequently a walk of say ten minutes took nearly an hour, and my tolerance levels were rock bottom by the end, I can tell you.

After lunch I took no 4 to tennis, before picking the others up and going back to the club where nos 1 & 3 then have their lessons. This is followed by no 1 going out to Guides till 8.30. I got everyone in the bath while she was out and then did the dreaded nit check. I am usually scrupulous about this, but of late have been a bit lax. Which is of course why I have just had a lesson in why you should never ever take your eye off the ball...

I found some eggs in no 3's hair, several small live ones in no4's and about 100 in no 2's... Aaggh! It's going to take me forever to get rid of them. Turns out no 2 has been sitting next to the class equivalent of Nitty Nora for the last few weeks - a fact I only picked up on yesterday when I went in her class...

By ten pm the children were all deloused and in bed and I was itchy as hell.

On Friday I went into no 3's assembly to watch her blow out candles on the cake they bring out for the purpose. Usually they do this first, so I was planning a quick escape and meeting a couple of other mums who had to be in the Junior school for their children's assembly. I should have been out by 9.15, if it hadn't been for the deputy head changing the order of events. I watched in desperation as child after child came up to display their good work and the clock was ticking unremittingly towards 9.30. In desperation I asked her to interrupt the praise fest, and managed to finally escape by 9.25. I raced across the playground, realised my friends had already gone and ran up the hill just as the children were about to go on stage - phew!

The show was a triumph of ambition over sense. You have to hand it to the nursery leader, she doesn't let a little thing like the fact she has a bunch of 3/4 year olds stop her from going for broke. The theme of the show was the jungle, so we had groups of tigers/monkeys/snakes/elephants etc. and a small band of explorers who had a phenomenal amount of words to remember. No4 was a tiger, and also had some lines, which I was amazed to hear her deliver loudly. She actually seemed to do rather a lot (which makes a change - normally I sit through the tedium for my child to pop up for two minutes) - dancing/singing with the other tigers/playing the drums/and having one little solo bit where she had to brush her teeth. The funniest thing about the show, though, was not the children, but the nursery leader, who enthusiastically encouraged them from the back, leaping up and down and pulling all manner of funny faces as she tried to get them to stick with the programme. It would have been worth videoing her alone...

We still have two and a half weeks to go and I have to endure two more sports days and give a talk to no 3's class about making books. Not only that, I seem to be met daily with requests for things I don't have: cardboard boxes, silver foil, cotton wool - all to make piles of crap that I will have to find space for at the end of term. Some day I would really love to swap places with some of the teachers, then they might have a slight clue as to what they are asking of us mums...

I don't know why people moan about the summer holidays - quite frankly, I can't wait....