Return to reality


I hardly took a moment to breathe, as we hurtled at lightening speed through our first week back in the real world.

I try not to swear too much when I write, as I feel people won’t like it, but here in real world, I swear a lot and right now I just want to say …

Fuck me! That was hard going.

I can’t even remember too much about the beginning of the week now, as it seems like an awful long time ago.  Today, Sunday, has been my only semi-relaxing day of the week and boy am I feeling it.

As you all know (or should do by now, as I do go on about it quite a lot), I have a lot of time off in the Summer, which is lovely.  It is lazy and blissful and relaxing and well, just brilliant actually and I am very lucky to have been able to do it every year because as a working single parent it has helped a great deal, but and it is a big BUT… when I have to do my first full week back at work, which obviously coincides with Tom and Elsie’s return to school, it is bloody painful.  Monday, well who knows what happened to Monday?  It came and it went, just as quickly as Tuesday and Wednesday, although it didn’t feel like it at the time.

The days themselves felt long and arduous and despite all that lovely time off, you feel no more refreshed on your first day back than you did on the day you left.  It just feels tougher.  Your brain knows it has to function, but it really doesn’t want to, stubbornly refusing to engage in anything that takes more a couple of seconds of thought.  My limbs are lacklustre, to say the least and protesting every slight movement after such a lengthy period of respite and the realisation that there is no rest till Christmas, which some bloody idiot kindly pointed out today, is only 15 weeks away, makes me feel quite teary.

Christmas indeed! If anything will make me swear that will.

People have started saying things like Ooh, don’t mention the C word and never mind it will soon be Christmas.  Oh Sod off.  I only know one C word and it is NOT Christmas you C***!

Actually, I quite like Christmas, just not in September.

I am a mother with two teenagers to buy for at Christmas so I shop early, or try to.  I just don’t feel the need to decorate my house yet.

Anyway, I digress, as usual.

The week actually ended on a high.  It has been a superb day today, surprising really as it was a football day.

Yes, it is football season again and after a few weeks back at training, today was the first match of the season.  Thankfully, it was a PM kick-off other wise I really don’t think we would have made it (I was still hitting the snooze button when the TESCO delivery arrived at 8:45 this morning, I bet he wished he wasn’t so quick on his round when he saw the state of me first thing this morning), it is only the first Sunday back and already I am missing my lie in.

Everyone is very excited about football though at the moment, the boys, although still at that really peculiar age where you can’t really tell if they are enjoying themselves or not, are in generally good spirits and looking forward to the new season, we have a few new players this year and it seems to brought some new energy to the squad.  Today in the first game of the season, on what was a beautiful sunny and warm September day, we had our best victory ever, with a final score of 24-1.  *mexicanwave  and *fanfareoftrumpets

It was the most relaxed I had felt all week, sitting on the side lines in my camping chair, with my flask of coffee and the sun on my face, chatting and cheering and knowing that the drive home was going to be a happy one. Well, as happy as a 13 year old boy can manage without cracking a smile.

I did have to have a little snigger, when during the team talk at the end of the match the coach had to remind them they had WON and they were allowed to celebrate, should they feel so inclined.  The puzzled exchange between them was quite amusing, as they wondered how to portray their emotion.

In the car on the way home I reminded Tom he needed to let his face know when he happy, as it is very difficult to tell otherwise.   That puzzled look appeared again.  SMILE I said, it makes all the difference.  To which he replied, I’m a teenager Mum, I don’t think we are supposed to.

For someone who looks so damn miserable he can be quite funny.

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