Holly-olly-daze

I have I realise been a tad quiet of late. This is mainly because the school holidays started ridiculously early this year, as the school nos 2&3 go to decided most inconveniently they had to close six days early so they could get some building work done. (Yes I did say six days, and don't get me started on how annoying that is when they wouldn't let me have one piddling day's holiday last year to go to France, the one and only time I've ever asked for it). This was more then a tad inconvenient as not only do I have a novel to write by the end of October (gulp) I also had rather a lot of other work on. Thankfully a mum chum was in a similar position and we spent a few days swapping children in order that we both got a shot at working. Interestingly, for the first time EVER, I have discovered that so long as they all have a friend to play, my lot are now old enough that I can actually get some work done when they are in the house. Unfortunately that doesn't extend to writing which requires too much mental headspace, and I tend to find when the offspring are about they occupy all my mental headspace, so the two things clash a bit.

Which is why this week I've packed them all off to Stagecoach for a week's drama, singing and dancing. Who knows, one of them might turn out to be the next Keira Knightley. (Although given that no 1 is currently learning guitar, no 2 wants to learn the drums, no 3 is after playing the sax no 4 though undecided knows she wants to make NOISE, and there's a new rock school down the road, I think it's more likely they'll become The Williams Quartet. Hopefully more Corrslike then Nolans...)

Alot of mums I know complain about the holidays, as they don't know what to do with bored kids. This is one advantage of having four, because generally mine always have someone to play with. But the main reason I never complain is that it is SO BLOODY LOVELY not having to take them to school, and even better not having to take them to all their after school activities.

I have been utterly knackered since about January, and was beginning to think there was something seriously wrong with me. Not that I'm a hypochondriac or anything but anaemia, diabetes, cancer all went through my mind. Since the kids have stopped school, I feel like a new person. I am energetic. I am relaxed. I actually have time to do things. I've belatedly realised that this is because during term time I lose 2 hours a day to the school run, plus another 2-3 to hawking children from one activity to the next. So at the moment I'm 5 hours a day up on the deal and I don't have to go anywhere.

Thanks to all the exhaustion my bold plans to get a triathlon under my belt have come to nothing (again) and for the first time since I've started swimming properly I've missed a month's worth of training sessions. In fact, I've barely done anything since the Race for Life. I was getting a tad paranoid about this thinking I might go back to being a complete slouch in the pool, so when I finally got to swim last night I was more then a little nervous. I wasn't helped by the fact that I got in the pool, got going before everyone else in my lane, but turned out to be the slowest person there, so I was holding them all up so much that Lovely Trainer shoved me to the back (haven't had that humiliation for a while). But by the end of the session I'd caught up, and managed 66 lengths without too much difficulty. Not quite as fast or far as I swam a month ago, but considering everything not too bad at all...

So all things being equal I am planning to enjoy the rest of the summer, though I do have to stop blogging now to get on with writing a book (slightly inconveniently I have been trying to recall Christmas at the sunniest part of the year), and hope that when the sprogs eventually go back in September some of my newfound energy might last me until, ooh, at least October...