We are at the half-way point of the summer holidays. (Please don't tell me if I am wrong - I can't be fagged getting the calender down to check.)
I just spoke to a friend who is at home with three children. Well, I spoke but I am not sure how much she heard, what with the general screaming and bellowing in the background. Her toddler was in the bathroom (not a good thing, those shampoo-drinking noogets) and the 7 year old was torturing the 4 year old (by the sound of it).
Just at the moment my house is a haven of sanity and quiet. I wore the girls out scooting (or whatever you call riding around on a scooter til your legs fall off) this morning. They are zonked in their rooms. Yesterday I wore them out at the pool. I may take them on a forced dawn pack march tomorrow. Whatever it takes, those little monsters are going to be played til enfeebled.
I am lucky the monstrous ones are similar enough in age that I can almost wear them out at the same rate.
My friend and I have agreed to join our resources at a playground in a couple of days to more efficiently exhaust the children. There will be skinned knees, falls and bumps, and, at best guess, two children falling into the lake or ponds - I am willing to put $5 on her oldest and my youngest being the wet ones. (Later - I lost. Only one of these two children fell into the pond.)
It is all for a good cause. If we play them hard enough they will start the school year fit and ready to buckle down, and we will get the breaks from nagging and quarrelling that make it possible to survive this time of trial.
My friend is a very abstemious woman. It is a pity. Three weeks to go and I have a bottle of gin and a tonic pond to draw upon. I just have to keep the lemons flowing.
Later - Ha, I gloated too soon. They are up, tired and gripey.
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