This was one of Beck Vass' most read columns in 2019.
You know how sometimes you can just have too much of a good thing?
Well, I'm there. It's the school holidays. Big ones. Too big. My first with three children. THREE of them. All my own doing, of course, but here we are.
I am climbing up the walls.
I've lost count of how many weeks in we are, but it is too many. There should be a law against school holidays being longer than two weeks.
The kids aren't sleeping until too late each night because it's too light and way too hot.
I've never been a homebody but for various reasons, we have been mostly at home these holidays.
It's too hot to take a baby out in the sun. I'm still an extra 8kg heavier and finding the heat unbearable. None of my clothes fit and aside from that (all superficial stuff I know isn't really a big deal and will sort itself out like it did the last two times), it seems like every time I want to go out, our baby falls asleep.
I'm not precious about the baby sleep situation (anymore) - there is no such thing as "routine" for a third baby.
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But we had five nights away over Christmas and our three-month old boy barely got more than 10-minute naps during the day, the entire time. So I've been trying to get him used to sleeping in his bassinette again.
Both the Christmas presents and the novelty of being at home have worn off for our 6-year-old girl and almost 4-year-old boy and although they continue to entertain each other some of the time, there are some battles throughout the day.
I've been bumbling around in circles, trying to tidy things up and declutter as I go about the day.
But it seems like every time I sit down to feed our baby, the other two decide they're hungry – starving - even when they've just eaten.
Or when I finally have a chance to get on with something else, the baby cries.
I'm generally just sick of every single noise I hear because it is someone needing something from me.
A few days ago, we were about to take the kids to the pool and I'd worked hard to get dinner sorted while my husband was at work so it would be ready when we got home, tired and hungry.
Finally, we were ready to go. I began lugging the heavy capsule with our baby in it (which has been a struggle after a complicated c-section my stomach is still not great after), only to find the two other kids standing in the hallway.
Lacking any intuition for anything other than their infinite hunger, they continued blocking my path, instead of moving.
"Get out of the way," I snapped.
It was rude, but I am at the end of my tether with them being under my feet and generally in the way of everything I need, all day, every day.
I got halfway down the stairs with the capsule only to find a mattress blocking the bottom half of the steps.
"What the hell is this?" I yelled, in words that may have actually been quite a bit worse.
"I was going to put that away and only got half way," my husband replies.
Is there any point even talking to any of them? Honestly!
We got in the car, which was ridiculously hot, and our 3-year-old announced proudly:
"I did a fart and it stinks."
Can I not have one second that isn't tainted by something?
We went, hot-boxed car and all, and eventually arrived back home to the quiche I had made.
After fluffing around sorting the kids' dinners while whipping up a side salad, in between serving the kids seconds and thirds each, our girl came back to ask for even more - and sneezed all over my dinner.
I really can't wait for school and daycare to open again so I can have my own "holiday".