That’s it: in my next life, I’m coming back as an expat child.
They get soooo many holidays. I mean, it is actually a bit ridiculous. My boys went back to school after two long months of summer holiday at the very end of August. They were in school for two weeks. TWO WEEKS. Then the government called Eid, and turned it into a week-long holiday.
For those who don’t live here, the UAE has a tendency to call holidays just when long-suffering mums really don’t want them. Case in point: the Expo win. Fireworks would have sufficed, but no. School (but not work) was cancelled as part of the celebrations. Helpful? Not.
Then there was the time it looked like it might rain, and the schools were closed. The day became known as Spit-mageddon:
This last week of holiday has felt like an extension of summer. Did those two weeks of school even happen? Or were they just a murky dream? A hallucinatory period of time and space in which to get things done. I might be being rather ungrateful for this holiday, but really we could have done without it – it’s still too hot to do anything outdoors; our new, half-built compound doesn’t have a pool; my oldest is spending too long on his computer; and I’m at that stage with my chatterbox youngest where I can see his mouth moving but can’t really hear what he’s saying and can do nothing but nod at whatever his moving lips are trying to assault me with.
I’m so ready for them to get back to school properly.
But … guess what? My youngest is back in school for two weeks, then there’s another week off for half-term.