The kids have gone back to school, but have they lost any uniform yet? It’s bound to happen at some point when little Johnny comes home wearing little Robbie’s jumper, back to front and inside out.
I have to tell you about my friend and her then 5 year old son. She safely delivered him into his year one class but when she came to pick him up she looked at his feet and found he was wearing two left shoes. And do you know what, neither of them were his! Oh my goodness it made me howl with laughter!
Can I tell you my favourite thing about my daughter starting school?
No it’s not seeing her fly out of the classroom with the biggest smile when I come to collect her or when she flings her arms around me for the biggest cuddles. It’s not the stories of finding aliens in the playground with her friends and the drama around it. It’s not even when she sings me 10 green bottles at bed time, just because she knows that new song will buy her an extra 5 minutes.
I’ll tell you what it is, been the bane of my evenings for years, my favourite bit of her going to school is not having to make sandwiches!
It’s the night before my little one starts school for the first time and I’m putting her to bed. I’ve been on the verge of tears for about 48 hours now and can feel myself well up just at Corrie like it’s the end of Titanic, but I’m actually holding it down.
So I go to read a bedtime story and she starts rattling on about ladybirds and how they have mummies and daddies and how her friends also have mummies and daddies. (Btw there’s no daddy on the scene here, never has been) Then she makes my day, my week, my life. “But I’ve got the bestest mummy ever!”
At that point there’s nothing I can do to stop the waterworks, I’ve held it in but now no amount of fanning my eyes is going to stop it. But she looks at me and says “why are you making such a funny face mummy?” “Because you make me so happy my funny little monkey!” Is my reply.
I’m currently sat here waiting for my home visit from the school teachers from my little girls first class in infant school. Why are they coming? Is it to see how tidy my house is? Is it to check out how big my tele is, or how many cakes I have in the cupboard. I’ve heard it’s to see what the family dynamic works, but I’ve also heard that it’s to make sure you’re in catchment and you haven’t lied about your address. I reckon it’s to see which biscuits get served with a cup of tea.
My first reaction when I heard this was going to happen was to play pranks, to have a bit of a laugh with it, to maybe have a glass of wine on the go when they arrive, have an afternoon rave in my living room or to have a treasure hunt from the front door leading them with clues to me and my daughter in the shed, but I was advised that it wasn’t a good idea. Right now I’m actually quite nervous, it’s a bit like when an estate agent comes to show potential buyers round your house, so you make bread and fresh coffee.
Feeling like I’m going to be totally judged, if I get this wrong will she not be able to start school next week? I’ve done all the washing up I’ve put the Hoover around, I’ve put a full face of make up on and made sure that I’m dressed appropriately, I doubt they’d appreciate me opening the door in my nightie, as I scoff down a pepperami for lunch. I’ll come back to you soon and let you know if my child is still allowed at that school…..
I reckon I've solved the gender pay gap problem. You have a jar in your house, much like a swear jar, but instead of putting in a pound for every naughty word uttered, a quid goes in every time someone says/shouts/screams the word mum. In my house I'd be on about £100 an hour, I'll be a millionaire in no time!
Last night was hell trying to get my little girl to sleep in the heat. We’d been in the garden all afternoon when it was 30 degrees and she been led in a sleeping bag cos she’s cold in the shade! So, it came as no surprise that her bedroom was too hot to go to sleep. She still of course wanted her duvet and 15 blankets covering her and I stayed for five minutes holding a hand so that should settle down. 10 minutes later she’s up again and asking for a drink and taking her pyjamas off. I put her back in bed but then heard a voice from the top of the stairs asking to go into my room because it’s cooler. Then she couldn’t sleep because I wasn’t with her so I got into my bed and waited for her to close her eyes, that didn’t happen.
Boiling under the duvet she started a conversation about when she’s a grown-up and she has a baby in her tummy. Will it be a boy or a girl, what names will they have, will I then be a nanny and will she be a mummy? No sign of sleep yet. We are now two hours into the bedtime routine and she starts to close her eyes when we hear the familiar sound of Mr whippy!Why does the ice cream van have to come past playing the music at 8.45 when all the windows are open? No, I don’t know what that noise is! No that isn’t an owl doing magic! Yes I can hear an aeroplane, but GO TO SLEEP!!!