Two and a half weeks to the end of term. Only the hurdles of various non-uniform days, seasonal plays, party days and school discos to negotiate and we’re home free.

It’s been a struggle, and I didn’t expect it to be. This has been a very long term, the time stretched out further by the seemingly endless number of demands in letters brought home. I’m tired. The kids are tired and tearful. We’ve all had enough. For the first time, I’m wondering whether a system of 4 semesters might work a lot better than our current term system.

I’ve always been pro-school before and I’m still generally happy with our local school – the staff are lovely and the boys are getting on really well there, but I’m finding myself feeling increasingly resentful of how much it is taking over our lives. While the school day ends at 3.30pm, the rest of the day is a write-off and I can’t really remember the last time we did something special together as a family of 4 at the weekend – the kids are too exhausted by then to contemplate doing anything other than veg out.

Having one child at school was different somehow. Perhaps because Akra Jr was still in Key Stage 1 then, perhaps because extra demands on time, energy and money for only one child didn’t seem so bad. It still felt that we had time and interest for other things… non-school things.

This is the cue for parents of multiple school-age children to reassure me that it gets easier…