The end of term is starting to feel like an adopted sack of King Edward potatoes continually strapped to my left thigh and  I can see the effect slowly spreading through the whole house..things are in piles waiting to be sorted, which is basically good, but there’s never time to organise anything so they’re just breeding free-style like a tottering physical rash.  Take the laundry room which I always think – possibly strangely –  is the outer representation of my inner mind. Ordered = in control. A shambles = manic.  We are somewhere inbetween with ordered chaos: Clothes in baskets but heaped to the ceiling and bursting at the seams.  The other barometer of life – My handbag?…an overflowing dustbin of cr*p..

It doesn’t help that the days are loosing their rhythm..suddenly there is a cornucopia of End of Year Shows, Sports Days, interviews at new school, tea party at new school, Second Hand Uniform sales, Ballet exams, Art Exhibitions and Prize days to fit in with their ever-growing list of additional requirements and I can feel my shoulders needing to grow on a daily basis.  The social diary? It’s like Christmas again with late nights and lots of alcohol – which initially feels a necessity..until the next day…and I know I’m grumpy when I examine things and any bad grandma grammar really starts to great grate…It’s reached a point where I’ve actually started to hug people with tears in my eyes when they cancel..

I’m not the only one feeling it..

So from where I am standing, the kids off school for nine weeks?.. looks like bliss!

(Just remind me of that in a few weeks time…)

Laters, Kate xxx