I don't know if it is because I am a parent or just that I have become cynical in my old age but I have come to the conclusion that it is not worth planning anything.
Take today as an example, and bear in mind that it is only day two of the school holidays. Last night Duvet Boy made plans to go to the cinema with his friend who was coming back to us afterwards. Twin brother was also texting late and by 10pm had arranged to meet a friend and he was coming back for a sleepover, whilst middle son's day included the cinema and friend over with friend leaving early enough for him to go to football training. My youngest was at camp and it was my turn to collect, so was bringing him back with his friend. Everyone was busy and happy and all I needed to worry about was ensuring there was enough food for seven children, so a giant Spaghetti Bolognaise seemed like a good idea as this always goes down well.
However peace and equilibrium do not last long. Duvet Boy cancels arrangements with friend as I won't drop him at the station and he won't walk, so he is home grumpy and still not doing the GCSE revision I am stressing about. His twin then postpones his plans as his friend is being diligent and working and everything becomes too late to make it worthwhile. Thankfully middle son goes off and has a good day, so he is cheerful. When I collect my youngest and his friend they are chatty and happy in the car. Shortly after we arrive back a friend of mine (yippee!) unexpectedly pops in for a quick coffee which is lovely as I haven't seen her for ages. Just as we sit down my littlest man comes in telling me he feels sick. As he is known at home as Hypochondria Man I do not take this seriously until he goes ashen and is actually ill. Thankfully my friend is a good one and this is not the first of my children she has seen throwing up! Youngest goes to bed unnaturally early leaving big concerns over 4am start to tomorrow but I can't worry about that at this point as I have tried to be organised and the oldest two have an appointment at the barber. Not able to take little man with me I can't drop them off. As you may have guessed already, Duvet Boy refuses to go as the 15 minute walk may do some permanent damage, so his brother braves the elements on his own. This is fine until he needs to come back and the heavens open up. Even I take pity at this point and as luck would have it the mobile cry for help coincides with the return of Dad who is despatched out to retrieve soaked teenager. However on the plus side at least one looks reasonable now and Duvet Boy will be sorting out his own haircut.
And so as we reach the end of the day I have sick child in bed who has been asleep since 5.30, one at football training in the rain, and two at home chilling. If we are lucky we will fulfil tomorrow's plans and make the dentist appointment I booked 6 months ago to ensure it was during the school holidays. I know duvet boy will go to this as we have to drive. The two youngest are meant to be getting hair cuts in the afternoon so fingers crossed for that and the older ones are each tapping on their Blackberry's sorting their afternoons on the basis that I am able to leave the house and chauffeur duties can be resumed. Is it worth be worrying about accommodating everyone's plans or fitting everything in? Probably not as today has shown me again what happens to the best laid plans. My only dilemma now is what to do with my two tons of Bologaise?
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