School holidays - a break for who again?

Planning how to drive me mad next

Much as it's nice not to have to dash around at 8.30am and 3.20pm every weekday during the school holidays,  we're reaching that point where we've been in each other's company a little too much. Little niggles between the children that started as storms in a teacup are beginning to escalate into major fallouts, constant requests for squash/chocolate/ice-cream/more chocolate/toys, and a desire to make every day special (because of course, it is a holiday) and therefore resisting the usual routine of bedtimes, meals and everyday life. They all conspire to ensure we begin to grate on each other a bit. I know it's a break for the children, but not so much for me.

Thankfully, the weather hasn't been as bad as expected this week, if you ignore Monday when it rained all day and I spent most of the day cleaning the house with, or more accurately, in spite of their help. This means the children can play out with their friends on our road or the next road. Although I seem to spend some days shouting "Door!" every ten minutes as they fling it open wide to return for drinks/meals/toilet visits or deposit sporting equipment as they change games or playmates, I quite enjoy the breaks; they're like little oases of peace, punctuated by a child bursting through the door.

I realised yesterday that the children have begun to figure this out for themselves that I might actually enjoy this. The children were trying to decide what to do when Monkey turned to me and said, "We're going outside, Mummy. We'll leave you in peace," and went out of the door, taking Missy Woo with him.

Is it wrong I went straight to make a coffee?