The time has come to bid adieu to the summer months, and sing (or sigh) salut to September.
For some this may invoke feelings of doom and gloom, while others give large sighs of euphoric relief.
So, which camp are you in?
The ‘oh crap, it’s September’-ers
You don’t want autumn. Autumn is not your friend. It marks the end of all things flowy and carefree. Maxi dresses. Flip flops. Harem pants. You don’t want your feet suffocating in thick socks and your legs squeezed into uncomfortable skinny jeans which you are forever having to yank up over your middle aged builder’s bum (does even Kate Moss need the odd yank these days?).
September weather may be all golden and crispy but you know this is only a temporary respite, leading into long, cold, dark, dreary days. It’ll soon be dark when you take the kids to school, and dark when they get picked up. Their healthy summer glow will fade before you know it, and they’ll look like little vampires again.
All summer you’ve had your head in the sand about anything grown up and normal. “I’ll deal with that in September” you said with gay abandon in mid July. The car tax, the unexplained brown stain on the hall carpet, the parking fine that you’re now being taken to court for. Who gives a toss, you thought throughout August. But there’s no more avoiding these boring real life issues. September is here.
The 3am night sweats rear their ugly head again. The motherhead starts spinning out of control.
‘I haven’t paid for the year 1 trip to the museum. Do year 1 really have to go to the museum? What if they lose my little pickle in the museum shop? Why do they even let them go into the shop? OMG, I need to go to a shop, any shop. I’ve got crap winter clothes and everything’s too tight. Talking of shops there are no Yoyo Bears for the packed lunches, they cannot live without Yoyo Bears. Can I go to Tesco at 3am?’
Your head is about to explode, so you may as well get up and start making some lists.
You haven’t made one of your lists since July 15th. The motherhead slept soundly all summer. You told yourself when you came back from the week in Majorca that you would stay all earthy and chilled and listen to Andy on your Headspace app every day. Mindfulness would be your life.
But you can’t possibly do that now because it’s September, and there’s simply no time. You may as well just start getting stressed about Christmas….
The ‘Way-hay, it’s September’-ers
At last, normal life can resume.
You were only piling your plate high with crusty bread and chorizo sausage at the hotel buffet in Majorca, because you knew that the sweet focus of September was just around the corner. This is where it all starts.
Early morning runs, pilates, yoga, circuits, you name it, you shall be embracing it. You merely endured stagnant August because you knew the month of change was coming.
Until your body is Cindy Crawford perfect (no doubt by Halloween), you have the joy of snuggling into all those chunky woolly knits anyway, and hiding your legs away in the comfort of your trusty old boyfriend jeans.
No more orange streaked bedsheets and tidemarks on your jawline from dodgy fake tan applications. Nobody is meant to be tanned in autumn. Pale and interesting here we come.
You can write lists again and get things done. There wasn’t much point when the world checked out in August.
But now you have goals. And the calming rhythm of routine. You can set that alarm at night knowing that everyone in the family has a place they need to be by 9am the next morning.
You can breathe again. The floaty emptiness of the summer is a thing of the past and you will be fine tuning everything, especially your parenting skills. No screens before all homework is done. In fact, let’s just go cold turkey. No screens at all. You will enrol them at weekend forest school instead. Better get that on the list.
As for the weather, you no longer have to join in with the endless chimes of disappointment about the British summer. ‘Well then, was that it? Was that our summer? Those three days of sun?’
Yes siree, it was, and now we can look forward to chilly days, leading to cosy nights in front of a log fire with a glass of red. And excitedly start planning for Christmas…