I'm usually ready to sleep for a month when the school holidays come to a close, but this year I wish they were a bit longer - nobody is more shocked by this than me.
At the start of the long school break, I wrote about how I'd be attempting to embrace the joyful moments of the school holidays. I was divided on the success I'd have with this unusual level of positivity to be honest - I was more trying to manifest these elusive moments into fruition than firmly believe they'd really happen.
But it seems the joy fairies really did pay me a visit over the summer. I can honestly say I don't want my children to go back to school. It's not that I hate spending time with my kids or anything quite as negative as that. I adore them, but in the way that I sometimes I find lengthy periods of time with them stressful, and need to adore them after they've spent a full day at school.
My children, now aged 11 and 10, have always been 'on the go' sort of children. And by that, I mean needing adult attention and engagement with their manic activity level, from the minute they open their eyes to the minute they close them. This has been the case every school holiday for their entire lives.
I've always indulged this need to be the ever present mummy. Partly through social media telling me they'll grow up to be psychopaths if I so much as ignore them for five minutes, and because I have literally no boundaries. I can be the world's biggest pushover. They've latched onto this with an iron grip and have run with it to get the most of my attention, always.
Of course, this leaves me exhausted, resentful, in need of at least a year in bed, and sometimes dreading the next holiday. This year, dear reader, saw a shift in this pattern of behaviour. My children have finally realised that sleeping in is a good thing - what a time to be alive. No being pulled from my slumber at ridiculous o'clock, instead enjoying a morning coffee before work everyday while they snooze. Weekends finally feel like weekends again because everybody gets a lay in after a long week.
Having had them 14 months apart in the hope they'd be the best of friends, it's taken my children a decade but I think they're there - they've reached their besties era. Instead of 'he did this, he touched me, I don't want him in my room,' they've exchanged this for sleepovers in one another's bedrooms, shared in-jokes and long conversations about joint interests.
Alongside embracing slow mornings, they're getting their own snacks - even asking about nutrition to make sure they're making at least slightly healthy choices. They have been listening to me bang on about balanced diets all these years! Also, we've moved on from the long and repetitive games children delight in, but adults often find *in whispered and hushed tones* boring.
Now, they're interested in what we are doing and watching, joining in with our child appropriate TV shows and wanting long and fun games of Monopoly and Scrabble. They've learned how to sort out disputes by themselves using words instead of violence. I've marvelled at their reasoning skills both when talking to peers and when we're getting them to understand something that previously would've only ended in screaming.
My boys have started to care about mine and my husband's wellbeing and feelings, meaning I can finally relax about whether they might be narcissists - all kids are because they don't know any different when they're very little, but mine were taking a bit too long to come out of this stage in my opinion.
I haven't missed rushing after work to make lunchboxes for the next day, and spending every Sunday playing musical radiators with school uniform in a desperate bid to get it all dry for the next morning. I haven't missed the anxiety of a million unread class WhatsApp messages and the need to hand over the contents of my bank account for teacher gifts and school events.
I want to bask in being close to my children and having them near me, knowing this stage won't last and will definitely be over a lot faster than reaching it has taken. Because although I'm finding parenting tweens to be quite fantastic, there's a bittersweet pulling away that already comes with it...Teenage behaviour is just around the corner and although I'll still be needed during this stage - possibly more than ever - I can't see that'll it be like this golden era of being a parent.
So, to be in this bubble while it lasts would be great. And as an introverted mum and someone who doesn't always like change, the start of new term is usually a juxtaposition of emotions - often wanting to put it off while needing it to start. This year I just want to carry on as we are, especially as I have a child leaving primary school and feel too many emotions about it that I'm putting off working through.
It's funny how the different stages of parenting get you, isn't it? On one hand I fully realise I've just said I found the early days hard and often found myself wanting to run for the hills to find a nice cave to recuperate in for a couple of years. I also occasionally find myself reminiscing about sniffing newborn heads and the joys of baby sensory class. I even found myself whispering to my husband 'shall we have another baby?' but ever the voice of non romanticising and the immediate prevention of not looking life through rose tinted glasses, he whispered back, 'absolutely not.'
For more from me, find out why I don't regret not following a parenting method, and why I do regret doing too much with my kids when they were babies. I've also written about my experience of baby name mourning, and the relief at finding a name for the feelings about it.