It’s been a week of rain and general winding down, except for parents. My holiday activities list has been dented – we’ve been for walks in the forest, got soaked by a lake and schlepped round Lakeside looking for bikinis [much to only son’s disgust] – but we still have kitten training as a fallback if the rain keeps up.
The summer rota has kicked in, which means getting up early and going to bed late as I try to squeeze an extra few hours into the day. In the old days this worked really well because you could get loads done in the morning when everyone was having a lie-in or semi-awake watching Disney Channel and you could count on everyone going to bed at around 9pm so you had peace and quiet to catch up on work in the evening. Nowadays, the living room has been taken over by teenagers who are simply too heavy to be dragged to bed, even if you had any energy left.
It has to be added that said teenagers can be tremendous fun, even if they do provide a running commentary while their parents are trying to find out what on Earth is going on in the news.
I took daughter three to the nailbar to remove the acrylic day-glo talons she got fitted when she went to a friend’s sleepover. She was having difficulty fitting her contact lenses with the massive nails. Who knew it was such a complicated process to get them off?
Only son accompanied us which was a bit of an ordeal because he kept jiggling around and swivelling in the pedicure chair. I gave him a notebook and told him to draw the nailbar. He drew one ginormous nail and wrote a list of how being in year 3 was going to be amazing. He thinks he is now a school veteran, given that he is moving into Key Stage Two and all. “I am so excited…” he wrote. “New teachers, a chance to change my behaviour, toilets in the classroom, learn better handwriting, getting older, harder work, homework more often and getting smarter.” Toilets in the classroom seems to be a particularly exciting development.
Meanwhile daughter three was having her nails dipped in something or other, shaved, cut, shaved again, polished, buffed, glossed and dried. I looked at my own nails and marvelled that I had got so far in my life without knowing about any of this stuff.
I own the least amount of “beauty” products in the house [only son has developed a fetish for hair conditioners that smell like fruit], and yet am probably the most in need of it, especially to hide the deep pits beneath my eyes. Anyway, who needs blusher when every day brings the joy of hot flushes?
*Mum on the run is Mandy Garner, editor of Workingmums.co.uk. Picture credit: Wikimedia commons.