The kids go back to school tomorrow. I can’t lie, it’s going to be a huge relief. Our holiday plans were messed up by a bout of chicken pox each, which meant that a lot of our activities were replaced with staying home so as to not spread the virus. Too much time cooped up, and they’ve been winding each other up, and tears and screaming got pretty constant in the last five or six days. It’s time for them to go back.
I feel a fair amount of guilt for being so happy about them going back to school. When I mentioned getting sick of the sight of each other after a while, my aunt asserted that she never ever felt that, and that ‘it must just be the kind of mother you are’. It was one of those ‘I think I’m a better parent than you’ moments. I get them a lot, being a teen mother signs you up for that load of horseshit. But it still hurt. What if I am a crap mother for wanting to send my kids to holiday camp and so on instead of having them home for six weeks solid? What if my wanting them to be back at school sooner is a deficiency in my parenting? I don’t know, I don’t think so, but in a way it’s not about how I feel, it’s about how other people see me and treat me.