My teenagers went back to school yesterday and you can imagine how well that went down. At half past eight, I found one of them back in bed fully clothed and the other had yet to even surface. Luckily, neither of them had a lesson until later in the morning because I don’t think even dynamite would have shifted them. I can’t help but sympathise though. Going back to school in January is the hardest of all the back to schools I think. Especially when you are facing your mocks. How mean is that? You’d think they’d have them before the Christmas break, wouldn’t you? Ugh.
Then today saw my youngest two go back to school. I had to wake them up which goes against every instinct I have. Wouldn’t it be nice just to let them wake naturally? Getting up in the dark will never not feel wrong to me. And of course there’s nothing quite like having to get up and out on that first school run of the year to well and truly burst that lovely Christmas bubble. Just to make it even better, it was a soggy one too. Typical. The little ones were fine about going back though as they were excited to see all of their friends so at least that made it a tiny bit easier. I do wish that we could pinch a week from the Summer holidays and make the Christmas break a bit longer though. It is always over way too fast and it would be lovely to hibernate for a little while longer, don’t you think? Sigh.
With the sparkle of Christmas already feeling a million years ago, January is always such a gloomy month. I try to be as kind as possible to myself. Last year I dug out some of my favourite comfort reads and spent many an afternoon under a blanket. I might just do the same again. This really is the time of year when the little things can make all the difference though. Like lighting that candle you got for Christmas, a long hot soak in the bath, big bowls of comfort food and enjoying the last of the treats. I will never in a million years understand why so many people feel the need to start the year with gruelling new exercise regimes and ridiculous diets that never work. Don’t even get me started on all that dry January nonsense. I honestly don’t think that punishing yourself for enjoying December is the answer to shifting the January blues somehow. In fact I’m quite sure that the answer for me will lie at the end of a good book or at the bottom of a bowl of celeriac mash. With extra butter. Who’s with me?