All hail the end of term

19 Jul

One of the great things about having school age children is the return of the unbeatable end of year buzz.  Remember what it was like when you realised that after the end of the week there is No More School for at least six weeks, that long hot days of doing whatever you wanted stretched endlessly ahead, there was no requirement to wake up at 7am every day (although in our household when I was growing up the early bird didn’t just catch the worm, it caught the best of the day, which meant better exam results that therefore led to an increased likelihood of winning the Nobel Prize, so I was often woken up not much after 7am even in the holiday time), to wear school uniform (hello taffeta, smocks and holey leggings) or to follow a regimented work plan (although see Nobel Prize point above).  The start of the summer holidays in senior school was accompanied by a very particular buzz, and now the Ls are imminently finishing (tomorrow) I feel the familiar butterflies in my stomach.

It is perverse, this feeling, since on Monday morning while the rest of my family relax I shall be power-walking to the station to catch the 7.22.  As always.  The end of term doesn’t actually mean a huge amount to my daily routine, not really really really.  Certainly I doubt my employers will be looking kindly on tie-dye and peculiar hats, nor my deciding to spend most of the day snoozing in Hyde Park.

But this feeling is driven by the familiarity of the end of term rituals which like sherry decanters and bad eyesight seem to be handed down from generation to generation.  This week I have watched L2’s end of year assembly (he was a sparrow, and a bear, a marvel of costumery for which I salute the school) and M has attended L1’s Roman afternoon (to the best of my knowledge they didn’t take up my suggestion of eating so much they were sick, then hosting a gladiatorial fight with Year R’s bear masks from yesterday’s assembly utilised for recycling purposes, but that’s why I am not a teacher).  Tonight was the disco (what I would give to be a fly on the wall at that can’t be expressed), followed by the Scouts out and about night in the local woods, with bbq.  And I absolutely love it all.  Give me an end of term event, and I am there, sporting scarcely-restrained excitement and an excess of enthusiasm to join in and make it all ‘a bit special’.

Obviously I’m not the only one, since the superb tradition of the ‘mums’ end of term night out’ is one of which I thoroughly approve and will certainly be championing as a must-do.  We’re all demob-happy, and I plan to enjoy it, regardless of whether it is a logical emotion or not.


One Response to “All hail the end of term”


  1. Leave children the time to have a childhood, Mr Gove | landlsworkingmum - July 2, 2013

    […] As I’ve written before, I almost get the same sensation now with the kids’ summer breaks. Their excitement and sense of untapped freedom, opportunity and adventure into the unknown looms large and I pick up those radio waves. […]

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