The Shock of Going Back to School

What with lockdown and the summer holidays, it felt like school was a something we used to do.  We used to get up at silly o’clock and rush round like lunatics to make sure that everyone got to school on time. We used to be meticulously organised within an inch of our lives every evening to ensure that mornings were less stressful.  We used to go to school.

Then lockdown came and we homeschool became the new old school. Life took a different pace.  Slow and steady.  No need for rushing, no need for planning, no need for early mornings.  Everything became more leisurely. 

We flirted with a few days in school here and there, but none of us were in on the same day.

Then bam!  Just like that, the beginning of September came and a week and a half later, I feel like I have been hit by a large truck and I could do with a holiday. Seriously.  How did we used to manage it? How did we get all that stuff organised the night before? How did we get all of these reluctant bodies out of the door on time every morning? How did we even get up before 9am?

Admittedly, I am back working full time for the first time in many, many years, so I am thinking that this is adding to my general feeling of fatigue and inability to function. But honestly, we did make the best of lockdown and we were lucky that it wasn’t the worst time for us, but towards the end of the summer holidays, I was ready for work.  I wanted a purpose to get up early again.  I wanted to be working again, going out and talking to people I wasn’t related to.

We do tend to do quite a lot for our kids in terms of organising their bags and lunches for the next day.  We always have.  Left to his own devices, my youngest son probably wouldn’t even get out of bed and go to school in the morning, let alone make sure he has the right books and equipment.  You might argue that we aren’t doing him any favours by doing things for him but to be honest, we are doing ourselves a favour.  He is the one who rings me just as I am about to arrive at work to tell me he has forgotten something crucial.  He is the one who texts me because he can’t find his shoes.  Trust me, it is just easier to do everything for him and not have the extra stress of him ringing and texting every five minutes.  As a result, we tend to do a lot of organising for the other two, although less so.

Evenings have become a juggling act of lunches, school bags, making sure homework is done, checking bags and diaries for letters and comments and then checking that they all have money and door keys. That is a full-time job in itself. 

The only creature in the house who doesn’t seem traumatised is the dog.  I thought that Liberty would be distraught at us all rushing out of the house every morning after six months of most of us being at home.  Not at all. She takes herself off to bed after her morning walk, has a loveiy snooze and is having a fantastic time with the dog walker.  She is really pleased to see us when we get home and after a few minutes making a fuss of us, tail wagging, she pops back into bed as though it is all too much like hard work. She also thinks that 5am is a perfectly acceptable time to wake up and play.  I really need to talk to her about that. 

I’m sure it will get easier.  Please tell me it will.  I need to build up my working for a living stamina again and I am sure it will be fine.  Alternatively, I will just get more and more tired and probably sleep through the whole of half term in October.