I looked forward to the school summer holidays for weeks. Not just because the school run bores me far more than it should (I actually enjoy chatting with the boys and walking along the canal, it’s just the relentless routine of it I can’t stand), but because I was looking forward to spending six uninterrupted weeks with my boys.
I was slightly worried that I was doing my usual rose-tinted specs thing and that within a couple of weeks the weather would be awful, Harry and Joe would be fighting, I’d be fed up of not being able to get any work done and I’d be counting down to September, but it hasn’t turned out that way at all.
The weather’s been changeable, but not too bad (certainly better than a couple of summers ago when it rained every day and the trampoline we’d bought Harry rotted away), I decided to take the summer off from all but the most essential work and the boys have been, well, best friends.
When I was pregnant with Joe I worried and worried about how Harry would react to the new baby. Harry was 4 and so used to being the main focus of our attention. I hated to think of him feeling pushed out or resenting Joe. But he’s always been utterly in love with his little brother. Yes, Joe gets on his nerves, of course, but most of the time they’re brilliant together and it’s really become apparent this summer. They’ve made up their own games. They’ve got into each other’s beds to watch videos on the iPad. They’ve looked out for each other, taken care of each other, and made me very proud.
Everyone keeps telling me they’ll be at each other’s throats before too long and that’s probably true, so I’m enjoying the love-in while it lasts. And even though the summer holidays aren’t quite over, I’m already looking forward to half term.