The last couple of weeks have been physically and emotionally draining. I’ve had so much on, I haven’t known whether I’ve been coming or going.
It started with my younger son’s residential school trip, which I found emotionally quite tough. Then relentlessly into Britmums Live (loved it, very tiring) and a dance show (even more tiring) and the arrival of the French boy for a week. Yes, in many ways he was no trouble (and my own son was AMAZING), but having a child you don’t know in your house for a week is stressful, particularly with the language barrier and cultural issues. Not to mention the endless demands for lifts. The week ended with a birthday. I love birthdays, but they require work. I think it was the first of my kids’ birthdays ever I haven’t marked on the blog (apart from the obligatory Pumba picture – sorry, son, I was just too tired!).
This was all in addition to the usual running of a household with three kids and the dance lessons and Scouts and homework and packed lunches etc etc. Oh, and work. Yes, I still had to find time to work in the midst of all this. No wonder I felt drained.
So I was looking forward to a quiet week this week. No school residential, no Britmums Live, no dance show, no French exchange and no birthday.
And now we’re at the end of that week. And has it been quiet?
Apart from the three hospital appointments (and not one of them at A&E, remarkably), the parents’ evening, the secondary school induction, the day OUT OF THE HOUSE working (I don’t leave the house to work, it’s the rules!) and the Scout camp, it’s been really, really flipping quiet. As in, not quiet at all.
But next week will be quiet, right?
There’s just a day in London, another secondary school induction, a primary school leavers’ performance, my daughter dancing at a local theatre, another hospital appointment and THREE DAYS working out of the house, two of them at the weekend.
There’s no such thing as a quiet week, is there?