Sunday mornings are straightforward. In theory. We go to rugby. If you say it like that, it sounds so simple. Rugby is 10-12 in the morning. Both boys go, we leave the house at 9.50 and we’re home by 12.10. Sorted.
If only it were that simple.
The season is pretty much half training and half matches. Half of the matches will be at home and half will be away (away games are quite often an hour away). In the past, the boys’ rugby was always in the same place (unless one of them had a cup match), but since last season, it has all changed. My eldest is now a ‘junior’, while my younger son is still a ‘mini’, which means their matches are usually in different places. It’s so bad that my husband had to keep taxing his ‘half car’ through the winter (Caterham – tiny, two seater, roofless sports car) so that we could actually get both boys to the right place at the right time.
Generally, I drive to whatever is at home – whether it’s a home game or training – and my husband does the away games. As I can’t drive the tiny car, I have to have my daughter with me.
This is how our decision making went last Sunday:
Plan A – husband to drive younger son to away game in tiny car, me to take eldest to training with daughter.
Plan B – eldest wants to go to Remembrance service at church instead of rugby, daughter to stay at home/ go to service.
Plan C – daughter wants to go to away game with husband and younger son.
Plan D – eldest announces he wants to go for a run to the car boot sale. Husband says no. Says I should walk with him to the car boot sale.
Plan E – realise we don’t have time to walk to the car boot sale before the service, decide to cycle there.
Plan F – daughter decides to go swimming with small cousin instead of rugby.
We went through all of these decisions between 8 and 9am, when my son needed to set off for his away game.
With three kids, two rugby teams and one and a half cars, Sunday mornings are anything but straightforward.