The comparison, the contest. When the
story requires a clarification. A small something to let you know it
was harder for me than you. The conversation begins with a not so
simple question.
"How close together were your two children?"
"Two years." No, that might not be enough. Let me clarify. "Well, two under two".
The auction begins, a bat is raised.
"I had three under five."
The gavel goes down. I have three under
five from the lady here in the front.
"Can we do
better than three under five?"
Hup. Another bat. From the back of the room, the
lady with the stroller.
"Four under six. I have four under six".
The Mumupmanship happening behind me in
the ticket line of the school holiday cinema madness is just too
tempting. I want to join in.
I feel an uncontrollable urge to say I
had eight under nine.
It's a lie, but surely this would make
me win the prize?
All around me are school holiday
conversations with invisible adjudicators.
I cooked a lemon cake and a casserole
before everyone was out of bed. I ran the kids across to art class before theatre group, and then we had three play dates before completing a full twist double pike with a star jump through the
shopping centre - and then I mowed the lawn before dinner. I taught the kids
one hundred french words while we drove to clown camp. Not a second wasted.
I think back to my own school holidays.
Activities included sleeping in, sheet folding, dog washing and an absent minded
walk to the basketball courts. No structured play, no classes or
competitions. Just a holiday from school. A school holiday.
I had so many plans for the little
travelers on this break. Maybe some golf lessons? Back to the pool
for one on one instruction? We were going to join the summer reading
program, complete the physical education challenge.
We've done nothing.
Blissful, charming, serene, nothing.
I asked the little travellers today for
highlights.
Granny's swing set (a rusted out relic
from Hills). Hot chocolates and crumpets in the morning. The
sleepover with friends. Endless games of spotlight at night. Cricket
in the front yard and the marathon of Dance Academy with quilts on
the couch and food from the bakery.
It may just be the best school holiday
yet.
Sold.
Thanks for a lovely article. I was starting to feel guilt about my son watching too much TV and the teenager spending too much time in her room. Funnily enough, they have been the ones reminding me that they are on school holiday...... The one big difference between my school holidays and my children's - I was out from dawn until dusk, they have to be "encouraged" to go outside.
ReplyDeleteI have a personal theory that kids who have time to do nothing end up being more creative. And yes, I hear you with the pushing them outside. Minecraft versus soccer/cricket is discussed a lot at our house.
ReplyDeleteWe have just finished a couple of weeks of Winter school hols. As we were looking after a puppy it meant that we couldn't fill the day with away from home activities. We walked and talked more and just hung around at home a bit more than usual. You could feel the relaxation seeping in without the clock watching. We should stop feeling guilty for stopping - the kids love it!
ReplyDeletePS One under 11 doesn't really count so I won't play at the auction.... ;)
On that basis mine should be VERY creative..........
ReplyDelete"we should stop feeling guilty for stopping"- I couldn't agree more. It's too easy to get caught up in it all.
ReplyDeleteWe had very lazy slow school holidays, too. Lots of sleeping in, lazy dinners and TV, not to mention hours spent playing outside making up games with chalk drawings on the pavement. Bliss!
ReplyDeleteI recall a child psychiatrist that I worked with once saying that boredom is essential - it is the state in which children and young people discover who they are and what they really want to do. Forget guilt - flopping about is fine!
ReplyDeleteThe best holidays in my opinion are the simplest ones that dont take much money or much effort, but involve a lot of laughs and a LOT of lie ins. Speaking of Mumupmanship, I made my way through a whole bottle of vodka (to myself) by the end of the holidays. Do I win a prize, or is the extra 2 kilos on my bum my reward. :) x
ReplyDeleteSlurped my coffee on the 'french words before clown camp' paragraph. A warning next time - caution, highly concentrated humor ahead - please!
ReplyDelete