The school days feel like a big part of our life right now. It’s all very different from before, and we’ve both struggled at times. It’s often on my mind and affecting things, so I thought it would make sense to write about these days. Hopefully one day I’ll look back on these posts and realise how much better it has got.
Ah, I’m not really enjoying these school days.
I love having (a tiny bit it feels like) more time to get things done, I love seeing her learning new things so quickly and impressing us with her reading and writing. But my god I hate the mornings. I hate the total rush that we always end up in, I hate having to drag her there even if she’s clearly knackered after a bad night and I can tell she isn’t feeling great and she doesn’t want to go and she’s only four and sometimes it seems like such a lot; but I have to take her anyway. And she keeps waking up every night at the moment all upset and so we’re not getting a lot of sleep.
Every Monday I’m wishing it was Friday just because it means we don’t have to get up for school the next day, and even though I generally really like the weekdays; I like having time to myself to work and be alone, I like talking to my friends who are also at home during the day; but it’s all so bloody exhausting. It’s crazy how fast a nine til three thirty day goes, especially when you’re not home until 9.15 or much later if you actually have to go a shop, and then leave the house again at 3.15 and somehow fit lunch and twenty-five cups of tea in too.
I’m not complaining – I swear I’m not. I’m fully aware and grateful that *I* get to take my daughter to school every day, but I’m still finding this quite hard. It feels like I rush around to get us ready every morning, rush home to get on with as much work as possible, rush to be there in time to pick her up, deal with her tired mardy’s for a bit and maybe try and get some more work done, read with her, do any homework, tidy up, tidy up some more, rush dinner, rush to get her to bed (and everything else in between), and then maybe try and squeeze in a bit more work, make sure her clothes are ready for the next day, and then collapse on the sofa. THEN I feel like I really need a decent amount of time to actually try and relax and unwind before I have to make myself go to bed and before it starts all over again, so I’m not really making myself go to bed as early as I should.
I want to love it, I really do. I don’t want to change what I do, and I want to be the one taking my daughter to school. But the weeks just feel like one giant hamster wheel and I just have to keep running or I’ll fall off.
I’m sure I’ll get a bit more used to it in time, and then I can stop whinging…