CONFESSION: My Half Term HELLoween

Half term holiday.  Five short days.  A drop in the ocean compared to six weeks of summer.  So why am I left with that slightly disappointed, empty feeling that it wasn’t as good as I’d hoped?

Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

Five short days.  It’s nothing is it?

In fact, it’s the perfect amount of time to have the perfect week with your kids.

Or not.

Because when you have these romantic ideals you forget that you are still spending five WHOLE days with your kids.

You also forget that none of you are perfect.

Facing my fears.

On paper, the week has ticked boxes.

Because I learned something from the six weeks of summer.  And that is having three kids at home ALL week is not a recipe I want to make.

So Godivy has been in nursery all week.  It’s been just me, Beaver and The Boy With No Name.  Easy.

I’ve avoided the sibling bickering.  Tick.  But I’ve inadvertently become Beaver’s playmate.  On Wednesday we didn’t spend one minute apart.  Not a minute.  Even when I sneaked upstairs to watch Neighbours and eat my lunch, a little face appeared.  ‘Oh, I love Neighbours,’ she said as she squeezed in next to me and proceeded to talk all the way through it.

We’ve painted Halloween pictures.  Made a multicoloured cat.  And a rather odd fly thing on a stick.  Me, the mum who’s craftaphobic.

We’ve made a stodgy banana cake.  We’ve eaten a stodgy banana cake.  We’ve been to the circus AND the theatre.  Activities that would usually span a month.

And I’ve loved spending time with her.

But I’ve missed spending time with myself.

Forgive me for I have sinned.

This admission makes me feel guilty.  EVER SO GUILTY.

Five short days.  It’s nothing is it?

And it is fair to say that GUILT has pretty much hovered around all week.

I’ve felt guilty sending Godivy to nursery all week.  Because she’s missed out on the theatre and the circus.  Not that we’d have managed either if she’d been around.  Me and three small kids at the circus?  One stuck to my boob.  One with kamikaze tendencies.  And one with the listening abilities of a knat.  Impossible.

I’ve felt guilty leaving Beaver to her own devices to settle The Boy With No Name who has chosen this week to decide that self-soothing is so last year.  Who has made me so tired this week, I’ve just wanted to lay down in a dark room.  With a bottle of gin.

I’ve felt GUILTY.  Ugh.

Is the grass greener?

I’ve also had that niggling feeling that EVERYONE is having a better time than us.  That everyone is out being busy.  Doing fabulous things.  Being fabulous.

When maybe we’re all actually at home.  Struggling to get out of our PJs.  Shouting at our kids.  And acting out our very own Half Term HELLoween.

One friend, at least, has told me her romantic vision of a lovely week hanging out with the kids has been anything but.  So, if you’re feeling a bit like us, you’re not alone.

This is my confession.  My Half Term HELLoween.

What’s yours?

Tell me your Half Term HELLoween below.  Then pop over to Surviving Life and Motherhood and join us for spooky tales of Motherhood… 

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