Sometimes it feels like I am the only living parent who is NOT looking forward to the end of the school year.
Is that wrong?
My daughter is 3.5 and goes to pre-school 5 mornings a week.
That’s 5 mornings for writing, always assuming I don’t allow myself to be bogged down by a Twitter conversation about potty training or our local MP (these two topics are surprisingly similar, by the way).
5 mornings for paying bills undisturbed by the Caillou-like whine that says: “Oh Mommy! Don’t work!”, when she sees me crab walking towards my laptop.
5 mornings to finish a post that I started the night before. At 11 p.m. In bed. (and to correct the spelling mistakes that come from working on a blog post at 11 p.m. in bed).
5 mornings to myself, when I can finish an entire cup of coffee without wondering how long it will be before some of it is spilled.
Now, I love my daughter more than my own life. But we aren’t meant to be together all day. I was not designed to be a stay at home mom. Unfortunately, the current employment / economic climate doesn’t seem to want to see me in a role that I would adore equally, so I rely on my mornings.
But next week, a full week and a half before the end of the month, school ends.
What am I to do then? We can’t afford to do daily trips ‘anywhere but here’. So I am left to be inventive. Except I’m not that bright. Or inventive. Really.
Summer camp (1/2 day) starts July 9. That is always assuming she sits on the potty consistently for the next 4 weeks.
Wish me luck. And wine.