Saturday, 27 August 2016
On being a school mum.
Reflections on the first year of School.
The playground is not a battlefield.
I bloody love the mums at Molly's school. They're all kind, interesting, friendly, beautiful and funny women. Who also happen to be parents. I may be exaggerating, but the ones I've spent time with are bloody brilliant.
School does however turn mornings into a battlefield. A bloody and loud one.
I just don't think my firstborn gets on so well with the School structure. Nursery was no problem, up and at 'em and in the car by 7.30am. Home at 6.30pm, supper and bed. Three times a week! But School is a nightmare. We have tantrums, constant exhaustion and big tears. I feel SO bad that I can't just quit my job and home school. But I just can't. And having Margaux in the mix there's just no way I could facilitate a healthy learning environment. We'd end up watching CBeebies all day while I churn our snacks, do the washing and learning nothing.
Things I would tell myself this time last year
One teacher will let your four year old child out when you haven't arrived at home-time..
School is expensive! Start saving now for all the charity/extra curricular "donations" you'll be making.
No one cares that you haven't showered. Go to Church group after the school run, you'll miss having the option when you're back at work.
Asda tights are shit.
Sewing Molly's Ugly Bug Ball outfit at 6am.
Buy cardigans at least two sizes too big.
Teachers have a sick sense of what's a good thing for the child who's mums just come out of Hospital.. Give the child her first show and tell project the day her mummy comes out of hospital. Pricks.
Measure feet regularly. Turns out Molly's been wearing shoes two sizes two small. I suspect for a number of months.
Now we're entering into year one.. NO MORE BARNABY FUCKING BEAR!!! (I was so excited the first time he came to stay. Until I realised that he was literally a stuffed cess pit of germs/worms/nits. And no he was not allowed to sleep in her bed. Or touch the baby.)