We spend a fortune on school fees for Nectar and so my expectation is that they will take care of all her learning. Sadly, Nectar’s teachers clearly deem it appropriate that we bear some of that burden and thus a portion of our weekend is spent helping her complete homework. The plus side is it gives me an opportunity to use part of my brain that has lain dormant since graduating top of my year at Cambridge. The essay I wrote for her on Oedipus complex in the works of AA Milne was very well received: ‘a work of almost unbelievable insight’
Last year, Jeremy bought us all matching Hunter wellies. For six months they lay spotless in the bootroom: the countryside is for instagramming, not meddling in. However, J wanted us to ‘do more as a family’ and now insists we walk each weekend so now we all pull on our boots and Barbours and walk to the shops to pick up The Telegraph on a Sunday.
As much as I’d love to, my severe gluten allergy means I am unable to host play dates for Ambrose. Luckily his devoted sister Nectar lets him tag along when she visits her friends: she makes me give her £7.20 an hour in line with minimum wage.
After my hard week of school runs I think it’s important for Jeremy to pick up some of the slack at the weekend. He has his long commute home to unwind so Sunday mornings are my me-time. I tend to do some yoga and practise my calligraphy by writing aspirational lifestyle quote for my Insta follower: I know they give people so much joy.