Rebecca Fletcher from ‘Margot Tries the Good Life’ reflects on her Summer Holidays with her family in the beautiful Hampshire countryside.
‘The crashing of Lego boxes being upended overhead and squeals of “That’s not fair!”, two voices yell in unison “Mummmmmeeeee”…..it can only mean one thing, the summer holidays.
Striking fear into the heart of this working mother, the summer holidays seems to be a blip on the horizon halfway through the academic year that all too quickly arrives on the doorstep and spells doom for trying to get any work done when working from home. As I spend my days refereeing hair pulling and the toy stealing escapades of my two delightful and very dear girls, Primrose (5) and Poppy (2.5), I suddenly wish that I was sitting at a desk, sipping one of those frothy coffees emblazoned with latte art from that chi chi café round the corner from the office where there are no small children to demand my attention. NO such luck. I have to make do with tip tapping away on my laptop at the kitchen table, only remembering that I made myself a cup of tea some time before I was distracted negotiating the ransom on a pink plastic horse between two mini Genghis Khans as I slurp from a mug of cold joyless liquid. Don’t get me wrong dear Reader – I adore my girls. They are the little bundles of gorgeousness that I still struggle to understand were made by my husband and I, that have the capacity bar none to make me smile, laugh hearty belly laughs, weep uncontrollably at their sweetness and at the same time, make me want to lock myself in a darkened room for 5 minutes’ peace. Somehow and I’m really not sure how, the summer holidays seem to turn them into some sort of gang of she-wolves that are hunting me down, determined to break me so that I give in to their demands of 24 hour chocolate, unlimited telly watching and worst of all, listening to them both singing the same song constantly when neither know all the words. Disney – you have a lot to answer for with all that Frozen power ballad stuff.
In a light bulb moment, I realise that perhaps I need to take more notice of what the girls are saying. So I step away from the laptop, unstitch the phone from my ear, turn off my serious Mummy face and dive into the summer holidays. I can’t deny it – it’s bliss. Impromptu painting sessions at the garden table, making dens with sheets, jumping into freezing cold water in the paddling pool, baking cakes and looking for bears in the woods. This is what the summer holidays is all about.
Primrose, who usually loves school so much that she wishes she could move in, says that this is the best summer ever. Poppy discovers that watching tractors and combines rolling up and down the lanes and in the fields is better than anything on CBeebies and just like that, as soon as the name tapes make an appearance and uniform is bought, two sizes too big of course, suddenly the girls are getting on like a house on fire, declaring that they are best friends. Six weeks of negotiating with tiny terrorists, being covered in mud from head to toe rescuing children from the middles of puddles, making sandcastles in chilly breezes and enduring picnics in the pouring rain are all erased in an instant as I realise that the summer holidays has a magic all of its own…..it can be its very own slice of Disney. Just ‘Let it Go’. ‘
Read more of Margot’s Country Antics here: www.margottriesthegoodlife.com