Monday, 10 June 2013

The end of a school year





There are precisely 8,5 days and one weekend left till the start of the summer holiday. And instead of winding down, I am running around like a blue-arsed fly to keep up with the end of school year hysteria.

One look at my calendar for the next two weeks is enough to make my blood pressure rise to an unacceptable level. Not only do I have to cheer on two children at two seperate sports days which get canceled and rescheduled almost daily as a consequence of the bad weather we are having, I also need to buy a really good end of year present for my daughter's teacher (I stuffed up badly at Christmas and she is lovely) and bake one hundred and fifty cupcakes for various events (like the 'let's-all-bring-cupcakes-to-school-for-charity-day').
Oh and did I mention shopping for a blue dress for my daughter's summer concert in which she is going to sing two whole lines? I did not think so. I am seriously contemplating sending her to the concert in a pink pair of trousers. I think my daughter would be game.
The children also need ridiculous amounts of money. For the yearbook, a T-shirt with all the names of their classmates on it, a movie night, a bake sale, a wrist band, or a charity swim. I suspect my two of making half of the stuff up. Allways handy to have a bit of money in your pockets to spend on ice cream and kitkats.
And then there is the washing of sports clothes and swimming costumes and the inevitable, panicky scramble around the house in search of the obligatory t-shirt with the school logo on, the only pair of shorts that my son thinks are cool enough to wear to school now that he is fast approaching his twelfth birthday and any of my daughter's shoes. I found her the other morning, checking the compost bin in the garden, wearing one shoe and hoping for a miracle. I would not put it past her to have thrown her shoes in there, although she normally drops them somewhere that does not involve the extra hassle of lifting a lid.
In between all of this I am also supposed to come up with a fun treasure hunt for my daughter's leaving party this Saturday. With games and quiz questions, exiting enough to get the seal of approval from a bunch of highly critical (and articulate) ten year olds.
To tip me over the edge, a teacher was cheerfully putting up posters around the school today to announce another 'crazy hair and dress day'. Just what I need. Children who demand that I will go out and buy neigh impossible to find coloured hair sprays, or really need me to sew on seventeen buttons on a fancy dress top that popped off the last time they they wore it.
Looking at it from the sunny side though, the move back to the Netherlands this summer will feel like a breeze. I mean, honestly,  how stressful can that be, compared to getting two children through the last 8,5 days of the school year?