Rain and the Long, Stretchy Day

Madeleine Thompson - 10 Apr 18

Easter holidays.  Any holidays.  It doesn’t matter the purpose, they all seem to share a common trait.  They contain long, stretchy days.  Long, stretchy, tricky-to-fill days.  Especially when it rains.

My kids are 4 and 5 (and seven-eighths).  One is in full-time school, the other in part-time nursery at the school.  So, when school holidays arrive, they (and we) are faced with an expanse of time they spend together that they are not quite used to anymore.  This seems to open the door to welcome in little, bickering, picky arguments.  “She did this,” and, “He bit me,” and, “I wanted the dark blue one.”  Many cries of, “It’s not fair.”  The injustice is deafening.   Sometimes there might be some pushing and shoving.  Much scowling.   Not unusual behaviour for moments where they are climbing the walls.  I expect there are many parents in the land frantically pulling together lists of things to do to keep the kids entertained on the holidays.   But let’s be honest, even the most comprehensive of lists cannot always beat the destructive power of the rainy day.

I remember when the kids were very little and they needed much more physically dependent care. My days then were broken down into feeds, changes, baths, playing and sleeps.  And I remember the moment my husband would leave for work at 8am and I would look out on a long, lonely stretch of a day until a grown-up came home through the door again.   I probably shouldn’t say this, but some of those days leave me with a shudder.  Even though they weren’t every day.  By a long way, they weren’t every day.  But they left their mark.

When the rainy days come now, I sometimes get the same feeling of having to face that long, stretchy day again, made a little worse by the fact the kids are fighting and asking for chocolate before 9am.     Does anybody else feel like this?

I made a joke to my daughter today (a rainy day) that she and her brother sounded like they were making the album ‘Grouching and Grumpiness’ and we were already on track five.  Being a quick-witted sole, she sang track six to me.

I realise these sound like miserable the ramblings of a grumpy person myself, and I do try to push them aside.  But sometimes they let themselves in anyway.

So, it’s 9.45am and I have the activities lined up, different toys out for them to play with, an abundance of rainy-day holiday films, and a silent prayer on repeat that the hours will tick by that little bit faster until a grown-up walks in the door tonight.

Madeleine Thompson

I am mum to my little chicks, Aisha, 6 and Abel, 4. Originally from Yorkshire, UK, I now live in a little town in the North West. By day, I work for myself as a freelance PA. By night, I indulge my passion for writing.

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