Am I a bad Mother for wishing the summer away?

Week three of the summer holidays is always the hardest. You’ve already endured a break from school that is nothing like any of the others that are this long (both Easter and Christmas give you bank holidays, meaning you have a captive extra pair of hands that belong to your partner, if you’re lucky).

Summer is different. Summer is looooong, sweaty and incredibly arduous.

The cracks begin to show at week three. The neck vein throbs, the eye twitch flickers and you’re certain you’re losing your mind. When you haven’t quite met the halfway point, it genuinely feels like there’s no end in sight.

And that’s when the guilt sets in.

Obviously I love my children. Obviously I enjoy being around them, but I work from home and if I took the summer off working, I’d have to take the summer off paying bills (and in my experience that’s frowned upon).

We’ve been to the park, we’ve been to the beach, the sandpit, the paddling pool, a cafe or two, and every play area in town. I’ve even driven to parks in a different town and dressed a trip to the hairdressers up as an exclusive and glamorous event. I’m out of ideas, out of cash. and counting down the days until school starts again.

I don’t mean to sound so heartless. I’m just very sweaty and oh-so tired.

The heatwave hasn’t helped make the days pass faster. The soaring temperatures have made for soaring tempers and my poor nine-year-old has been on the receiving end of the three-year-old’s wrath for merely looking at him wrong. On one occasion she sneezed too loud and I had to take him into the kitchen to calm down.

Surely you can’t blame me for wanting it to be over? Some of you must feel the same as I do?

In another week when I’m past the halfway point I know I’ll be gutted that it’s not long until they go back. I’ll feel sad the night before term starts and I’ll feel lonely on that first quiet morning when they’re in their classrooms, behaving far better for their new teachers than they ever did for me over the previous six weeks.

But until then please humour me. Tell me I’m not selfish for wishing out summer away.

I want to know I’m not the only one.

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