There are two kind of parents in this world: those that love the school holidays and those that loathe them. I am both of these parents. The first week I’m all ‘look at us still wearing our pyjamas at 10am, painting a hundred watercolour unicorns and not leaving the house all day’. By the second week, the bickering and whinging has got to me and I start counting the moments until the school bell rings and order is restored to the universe.
In our neck of the woods, there is just one day left of term before we pile into the car and head away for a week of camping and fishing at Poona – a town on the Fraser Coast. In addition to bikes, helmets, sunscreen and mozzie spray, I’m packing a simple list of school holiday rules to pin up in our camper trailer.
I’m young and naive enough to hope that some of these rules may be adhered to. On the other hand, I’ve been muddling along in this parenting caper long enough to realise that there are no miracle cures for children being children. I’ve stocked up on Sav Blanc supplies for the second week.
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