Ooh, they were cross this morning.
Like baby tigers.
One of them 'pushed me with her foot' as I was trying to help her dress. The other scowled all the way to school and shouted how unfair teachers are.
I couldn't help feeling that I was the messenger, being shot BAM BAM BAM.
It's not like I don't have reservations about this 100-year-old social experiment called school (despite my aim to become a teacher next year). It's not that I don't empathise with the fear of pressure, of public humiliation and social pain, that I don't equally dread the early starts, the homework and the teachers' succinct, critical notes: 'Please read more with your child', 'Please check your child's homework is properly done', 'Please pay your overdue lunch bills'.
But what are the alternatives?
I considered home-schooling, briefly, before I realised that HOME-schooling meant HOME for me as well, for a LONG time, and no income, nor any time to myself.
So back to school it was, with a sigh of relief, and gratitude.
I met an old friend for coffee after drop-off this morning. La-di-da. (Still a stay-at-home housewife for just a little bit longer, and intent on enjoying it...)
The kids had to stay all day at school and concentrate. They're still there, poor poppets.
Still, there's no need to KICK me.
How did you get on getting back to the Old Routine after the holidays?
Love, Elizabeth, aka The Writing Parent.