Dear Diary
My 7yr old daughter Charis ( though she constantly reminds me she’ll be 8 in about six weeks!). I then remind her that she’ll never be this young and free from responsibility again. With each passing year her responsibility will grow and there’ll be less opportunity to say she didn’t know. She is very wise for her years and we’re constantly butting heads over attitudes and utterances. She has now requested a diary and a promise from me not to snoop. Of course I’ll be snooping that’s what mothers do!
After a discussion about keeping secrets and the difference between good and bad secrets I may just leave her to it. I ask her if there’s anything she needs to know from me. Her response is a nothing really one but then slyly slides in a veiled request for details of my diary. Granted I was almost double her age when I kept one myself I’m left with no choice but to reinvent my diary entries. Truth is I was a sulky teen and no doubt there were numerous entries about annoying teachers, strict parents, selfish friends and perhaps a sighting of an interesting boy specimen to brighten an otherwise sour life.
She’s really excited to get started and I’m worried what I may find. Though I’m hoping the daily record keeping will improve her already creative writing skills. I’m really trying to see the positive side. I shall try my best not to snoop too much!
Born to be different
I’ve been watching an extraordinary documentary following six families, some from the birth of their children born with various disabilities. It spans a ten year period and for me it showcases the tenacity and strength of not just the parents but siblings as well.
As parents all of our dreams are the same for our children irrespective of their abilities or disabilities. We want to see them grow and mature into responsible individuals who follow their dreams and make a difference in this world. It becomes a heart wrenching experience when it becomes clear that the child may not even make it out of their childhood. I’ve gone through a broad spectrum of emotions watching the account of these families and their daily struggles.
I recently came across an amazing blog called ‘Raising 5 kids with disabilities and remaining sane’. What makes this woman raising these kids more amazing to me is that she has adopted children with disabilities and appears to take it all in her stride. Usually after watching a documentary or reading an account concerning raising kids with extra special needs I would find myself feeling sorry for the parents concerned. However, the message seems to be the same from all of them. Once they get over the shock of the diagnosis whether it be autism, spina bifida, dwarfism or Down syndrome they just raise their child as any other parent would, in an environment filled with love and understanding. We all experience difficulties in raising our children and that’s the way life goes.
As we go through this life my hope is that we’d show understanding to both friends and strangers because we have no idea what challenges people are facing!
So you’ve done nothing today?
This was the response from my five year old after I replied that I hadn’t gone anywhere today after the school run. Not even to the shops mom? Surely she should realise that home is where all of my work resides. On second thought there are many people who I meet and when I explain that I’m a stay at home mother often ask what I do all day. Perhaps visions of me lying on the couch in my pyjamas watching telly and munching on some unhealthy snacks.
Depending on the mood I’m in I may give them the pampered wife response. I guess the question I’d like to ask in return is ‘what would you do on a day at home?’ well that’s exactly what I do. Vacuuming or hoovering as its affectionately called in this part of the world. Dishes, laundry and of course picking up endless toys.
I’ve been a stay at home mom for over five years and I’ve mastered the art of owning my time. I really have enjoyed the challenge of raising my babies and the experience has taught me to dig deep when days got tough. I can’t help but feel that this phase of my life is coming to an end and I’m preparing myself mentally. My girls have been an amazing source of strength and even companionship during those early days when we arrived in the UK. We’ve come a long way since then and I’m excited for the future.
It’s good to be green
Sorry if you thought this post is about reducing, reusing and recycling.
It’s good to be green just happens to be one of the many catch phrases at my daughters school. Up until now my sweet little five year old had avoided a change of colour on the behaviour chart then yesterday it happened and her little world was turned upside down. She was turned yellow for moving a plant she was asked not to touch. It didn’t surprise me that she did after all it’s her trademark to touch and alter anything she can in my house anyway.
She was distraught and didn’t care that she’d get a chance to start over the next day. Standing at that classroom door and comforting a sobbing little person made me realise how simple life is when you’re a child well most children anyway. I knew I had to offer her some words of comfort so I explained to her in front of her teacher that it always hurts when you stray from the straight and narrow the first time and then eventually it becomes a way of life just pushing those boundaries. Yellow today…red tomorrow. I’m glad her teacher thought it was funny!
Today she was back to her winning ways and I was glad not to greet a child who looked like a blowfish on the verge of tears. It got me thinking about the necessity of such a behaviour monitoring system. I just figure if a child behaves that should be the accepted way and if they misbehave they should be reprimanded and the oversight left in the moment. That’s what happened in the distant past when I was at school. It seems these days that rewards are given out far too easily and it doesn’t take much to achieve them.
Whatever my thoughts about such rewards I somehow feel long will they continue. In the meanwhile my job is to teach my girls how to cope when they fall short of expected standards and to realise that it’s not the end of the world.
Mommy milestones
There is much said about childhood milestones from introduction of solids, sitting, crawling, standing, walking and of course the sighting of the first tooth. The joy of parents as each goal is reached and of the course the exaggeration and rigging of onset of milestones is never too far away. Truth is we all encounter these types of parents as we raise our toddlers and some of us may be guilty of this gross exaggeration as well.
Truth is every time a toddler reaches a milestone we lose more control and they edge ever closer to independence. Watching them needing less of you can be quite daunting. It’s weird when you think that you spend most of their first year just waiting for your baby to do the next big thing. Reality of life is that there is only one chance for a first after that its just as regular as clockwork. I do miss having a baby to take care of and seize every opportunity to hold other people’s babies until they start squirming and crying then I’m reminded that with my children’s independence comes my freedom!
This week I reached another mommy milestone. After coming to the shocking realisation that my girls will never need a pushchair or camp cot ever again I still found it really hard to part with the items. I’d been driving around with these articles in my car which were of no use to me but could make a huge difference to somebody else. I’m no hoarder and lack any sense of sentimentality so I found it very weird that I had to let go emotionally before I could let go physically. Finally I did the drop off and felt at peace as I walked into a new phase of my life.
Wherever you are in the parenting spectrum try to enjoy it because it’s a fact that nothing lasts forever. Say goodbye to each experience as it ends and prepare to embrace the next.
Happy parenting!
What’s in a name?
As it turns out it’s much more than I initially thought. There was so much thought and research put into choosing our daughters names and of course we think they suit them and their personalities brilliantly. Sadly we didn’t think much further than that like the moment that they go to school. Up until now this name writing phase has passed relatively fuss free until my last born went to nursery with her nine letter name. Granted there is some repetition the sheer length seems to be draining the enthusiasm out of her ability to learn.
I’m as keen as the next person to see my children grow and develop but for goodness sake my baby is just over two months shy of her fourth birthday. I was a overgrown six and a bit years old when I first put my foot in a classroom. I literally went from home straight to school and my teacher Miss Redman proceeded to teach me how to spell and write my name (ironically it’s nine letters as well). Alas, the education system is very different here in the Uk than it is in my native South Africa. So I guess making the mental adjustment is key.
Gabrielle is due to start ‘big’ school in September and I’ve no doubt she would’ve mastered her name writing by then. It just breaks my heart to hear reports from her teacher that my baby feels anxious about not being able to write her name. Really? Anxious? Personally I don’t think she’d care that much if it wasn’t made an issue at school.
We’ve done our part now and my little girl is sat at the table with her older sisters practicing and improving her writing skills in a specially chosen book.
My only regret now is that we didn’t name her Mia because that would’ve made her life so much easier and this might have been a totally different blog!
Sight for sore eyes
It’s just a little over three months now that Charis my seven year old needed to start wearing spectacles. At the time I was really sad for her to be making that kind of adjustment at her age. Fortunately she embraced the change and the transition has been smooth. Today was the day that she was reassessed and and once again I felt quite sad that her prescription had to change because her eyes had deteriorated not by a major margin but they had changed significantly enough! I love her positive attitude and her excitement was peaked at the idea of choosing a new frame so soon after the first.
Funnily enough it was the first time Gemma my five year old would have her eyes tested. When I told her she had an appointment at the optometrist she was overjoyed and immediately informed me of her possible choices for frames. I was really taken aback because when I was at school nobody was keen to wear glasses and it became apparent that it has now evolved into something quite glamorous. Sadness for her and joy for me when the optometrist declared she had no need for glasses.
Being a parent really is a journey of many twists and turns and at the moment we’re still adjusting to physical changes. I love being a parent and all I want is for my girls to be happy no matter what challenges they face.
Who you gonna call?
I really wish the answer was as simple as Ghostbusters but sadly my house is being overrun by laundry. I’m still trying to figure out where all these clothes come from. Granted I have three young daughters who seem to think that their mission in life is to go through as many items as possible. At times like these I really regret falling prey to all the beautiful clothes which they often don’t need – not that much anyway!
Since returning from South Africa I’ve found myself swamped with laundry and there seems to be a serious lack of space for stuff resulting in almost half of our travel items having no room to lay their cotton heads. Every morning that I wake it appears that I’ve just arrived from a year-long holiday.
Today I decided to take a break from all things laundry because quite frankly I don’t think anybody has ever looked back on their life and wished they’d spent more time doing laundry. Please tell me this is not so. While I enjoy ironing way more than I probably should even I know when enough is enough.
I’m no neat freak but the despair is growing and I’m smiling to myself now thinking what an issue it’s become. I’ve just had a lazy brain wave and its official the laundry shall be packed away creased until its day of display arrives. Eat that laundry basket!
Dinner is served
I’m really looking forward to the glorious day when my girls will just eat what’s prepared for the family. I do give leeway for preferences most of the time because casting an eye back to my childhood there are many things I wish I was allowed to pass up and mealie bread quickly springs to mind.
I have children who between them refuse to eat so many totally awesome meals. As an adult I absolutely love beetroot but I remember being totally intolerant of this imposing red vegetable which would totally take over everything in its path. I am very hopeful for the future of my girls culinary tastes.
For now it is a case of hit and miss while we figure out the best way forward. It’s just a relieve to know after speaking to many parents that I am not alone!
Breakfast of champions
My five year old Gemma announced this morning that she was too cold to eat cereal and drink a glass of juice. Her preferred meal was oats and some warm milo. My heart soared for some strange reason and I knew I had to do a fantastic job.
Having grown up on oats I do realise that it can absolutely ruin a persons day if not done just right. So to me it’s quite simple the secret is to make it not too runny and definitely no lumps. I managed to deliver a perfect bowl of Scottish oats ( Jungle oats if you’re from my part of the world). I’m proud to report that she ate every last morsel and I gave myself the Goldilocks stamp of approval!
Most mornings I’m like a headless chicken and apart from my obligatory coffee I really don’t have time for much else. My spin on a champions breakfast this morning was skipping my coffee completely and replacing it with rooibos tea. I’m not convinced that being caffeine free is the way forward for me. My far too frequent migraines suggest it may be time to try a different way.
I’m not sure how long my resolution will last but I’m more than ready to try the breakfast of champions.
Flying without wings
In less than a month I’ll be taking a trip back to South Africa and I’ll be travelling alone with my three daughters. This is certainly not my first trip alone with the girls and it certainly won’t be the last. Thankfully they are not as little as they used to be. Having travelled alone with three children under the age of five makes me feel much better prepared this time around.
While my girls are generally well-behaved and I use the term ‘well behaved’ rather broadly. The fact of the matter is there is no way of knowing exactly how children will react when placed on an aircraft and are forced to stay in their seats for most of a long haul flight. This experience is enough to drive a responsible adult crazy!
If you’ve ever travelled with really young child or children you’ll be well aware of the reactions of fellow passengers. You know the moment you step on the aircraft and everybody appears to be saying a prayer. Praying that you don’t sit anywhere near them and if you do happen to sit near them they pray your kids sleep the entire journey. Have I got news for you, you are not the only one hoping they sleep through mealtime, duty-free sales, turbulence and the constant traffic to the bathroom.
I guess all I’m hoping for when I get on a flight is the same kind of consideration every other passenger expects and a pleasant flight no matter how near or far!
Frivolity of the bowling alley
My girls are huge fans of the bowling alley. Yesterday it became quite clear that my total lack of seriousness of the game was in poor taste according to my five and seven year old anyway. They’ve both reached the stage where competition and achievement are important. It’s the taking part theory is of no interest to them.
My highlight at the bowling alley is the recent announcement that it’s no longer necessary to wear those regulated bowling shoes. I must admit that I do sleep easier at night knowing I haven’t shared a pair of potential athlete foot infested shoes. The very thought of those shoes gives me itchy feet.
So we bowled our way through our game. I’ve learnt very early on that unless you’re a professional bowler the harder you try the more things seem to go wrong. We had a great time as usual and look forward to another bowling session filled with strikes, gully balls and total misses!
It’s not a game anymore
Today was one of those days that called on my husband and I to present a united front when dealing with my seven-year old. I’ve come to realise that parenting is a multifaceted occupation. Some days I feel like I’ve got a split personality. The challenges come thick and fast and then there are periods of smooth sailing when everyone seems to know what’s required of them.
My daughter has been playing the violin for little over a year now and we still have to deal with these intermittent outbursts when she doesn’t want to practice. She recently joined a junior orchestra and things have stepped up a gear. She is more than happy to attend her lessons but is not in favour of practicing at home. I’m looking forward to the day when I’ll tell her that she has put in more than enough time. Truth is that’s a long way off and for now we just have to encourage and occasionally threaten her. Whatever gets results!
The road ahead is long and we’ve agreed that she won’t be allowed to throw in the towel because quitting is for quitters. I must admit at the height of her music tantrums I want to throw the towel in for her. Here’s hoping that she’ll thank us one day for teaching her the useful art of hanging in even when things aren’t going your way.
The shoe monster
This morning my house was filled the sound of wailing, sniffing and sobs. If I’d been a passerby I would’ve imagined that something really awful had happened. Well actually something awful had happened my five-year old Gemma discovered that her school shoe had vanished during the night. I must be honest there was very little empathy from my side. You see I’ve told my kids on countless occasions the importance of storing shoes in pairs. I’m not dogmatic about where they are stored just that they be together.
I couldn’t help but feel today was the day for her to learn that lesson and I had no doubt the message would be made clear to her siblings. In between sobs I was asked what she should do. My ‘you should listen to your mother’ tone went into overdrive. My solution was simple choose another pair of shoes and I’m sorry they’re not black but fuchsia will have to do. At this point the crying went to another level and she eventually went to school in a pair of polka dot Wellington boots and a pack of tissues to dry a now endless production of tears and snot of course.
Safely in the car and on our way to school I started having second thoughts about the boots. I mean what kind of mother does this? I found a problem solver she could change into her physical education shoes after-all they are black, the downside is they are canvas and not practical for outdoor play on a wet turf.
On my way home I just knew I had to try to find that shoe and I did after all but two minutes. Now I would’ve just left them paired for her to find after school or I could take them to school and give her one less thing to worry about. Being the pushover I am I carted the shoes all the way to school. I’d like to think they’ve all learnt a valuable lesson. Somehow deep down inside I know this will not be the last time!
Bright sparks
My girls are at the age where their personalities are as different as their shoe sizes. I think it’s a pity that people wish to compare kids at every opportunity. Children should be complimented when they’ve done well and encouraged to do better when they haven’t. Over praised kids who live for constant affirmation even when their efforts don’t warrant a reward have my sympathy. When I was at school my parents had only two responses ‘well done and keep it up’ or ‘pull up your socks’. There were no promises of gifts and rewards for good reports because your only task was to go to school and do well.
I’d love to time travel to my toddler days and just observe the conversations of moms in that era I wonder if this incessant comparing of children’s achievements was the order of the day. I suspect there were other important needs at hand.
There is nothing better than praising your child for a job well done but there always seems to be a grandstanding mom in the wings who wishes to inform you that their offspring is bigger, better and brighter. Sorry mom it’s not always about your child he/she is not my yardstick!
I’m a great fan of social networking sites but I initially had an issue with parents constantly announcing their child’s every achievement. After sharing my annoyance with my husband he really shifted my thinking by informing me I am not the achievement police and I was stunned to realise that I had been guilty of the very thing that annoys me – deciding what is worthy of praise especially when it’s not my child. These days I share in parent’s joy more readily because being proud of your child should be celebrated by those who call themselves your friends.
Being a parent is the most difficult job I’ve ever done and it’s far from over. There is no way of knowing what challenges you will face. Each day is filled with opportunities for making memories that our children will carry with them for the rest of their lives. So whether your child is a bright spark or a flickering flame they are all special and need to be celebrated and not just for their achievements after all there is so much more to life!
Eagle eyes
After much discussion, debate and trepidation I took my seven-year old to have her eyes tested. Having had to wear spectacles for what is officially most of my life I had really hoped it would be different for my children. I’m well aware that there are many other limitations that people have to cope with but this is just my view on a first hand problem. I can’t imagine what life must be like with 20/20 vision because the minute I open my visually challenged eyes I have to reach for my spectacles.
Whilst sitting at the optometrist and watching my usually bright offspring struggling to recognise letters of the alphabet my nightmare of having a child with poor eyesight was unfolding before my own imperfect vision. The final verdict was that she’d need to wear them for watching telly and reading the white board at school (funny how things change because I needed them for the blackboard over 20Â years ago!). She’ll be reassessed in three months and I’m praying for a miracle.
I must admit her immediate acceptance of this very obvious change to her young life was met with much more maturity than I can ever remember having when I was informed by Dr. Naidoo that I’d have to wear my rather awful looking Sophia Loren type glasses at school. I wore them far less than I should’ve and this was mainly due to ignorant kids at school. It was only in my early twenties after being told by a certain Dr. Moffat that ‘boys still make passes at girls in glasses’ all these years later the words of that optometrist still has me favouring my glasses over contact lens.
It’s true that nobody is perfect and yesterday I was afforded another opportunity to teach my girls the importance of looking beyond physical imperfections!
Innocence lost
It’s been nearly a week since April Jones a 5Â year old from Wales disappeared. The search for this little girl has been intense. A suspect was arrested in connection with her disappearance on Tuesday just a day after the incident. It is now reported that he has been charged on suspicion of murder. No details have been given and there is no body. Deep down in my heart I really hope they are wrong and that she’ll be found alive and unharmed. Perhaps it seems naive but every child deserves to live a carefree existence after all this is what childhood is all about.
Abductors are really heartless people I just can’t begin to imagine what goes through an individual’s mind when they decide to destroy a family and steal a child’s innocence. There’s no doubt that even when a child is found their lives are forever changed and a lifetime of counselling becomes the order of the day. Missing people are sometimes found and Elizabeth Smart is proof of this. She was taken from her home and was missing for nine months, she testified against her abductors, went on to study at university and recently married. I wish her every happiness for her future she is truly an example of human triumph!
In recent years the world was gripped by the story of Madeleine McCann who went missing from a hotel room while on holiday with her parents in Portugal. Sadly she is still missing. There are many theories surrounding her disappearance but the bottom line is that she is missing and her family have been existing in a nightmare.
Thousands of people go missing every year and it translates to broken-hearted families. Spare a thought for all the missing persons today. Let hope burn bright always!
Fear factor
Whenever I think of Disney movies I think of adventure, action, romance and achieving the impossible. Fear is not an emotion I expected my young children to be gripped by when I took them to watch Brave, the latest instalment from Disney. I realise that the movie was rated PG but I didn’t expect to shield them from scenes which were more terrorising than entertaining. I must admit it was not the relaxing morning I had in mind.
I’m not much of a movie goer and would rather wait for the action to come to me. So my trip to the cinema this morning was more of a motherly duty because the kids always seem to place a little more value on a trip to the cinema with the obligatory purchase of overpriced treats which cost way more than the movie itself. Armed with what seemed like a giant fizzy drink and a truckload of popcorn they were certainly clueless about the absolute fear that would ruin what would’ve been a magical experience.
Walking out of that building and hearing my girls describe the movie as scary was not a good feeling. I felt like I’d made a poor choice. It seems that I’ll have to do some research in the future instead of the screen giants deciding on an appropriate age restriction. Personally I would’ve placed it at PGÂ 10 and that of course is my personal opinion. After all fear and fun should never be confused!
Toddler tantrums
I’m sitting here trying to figure out why children throw the biggest tantrums in the mall. Perhaps the bright sparks figure there’s not much that can be done. To try to avoid ugly scenes while out I usually try to give my girls an idea of what we’ll be up to. Today while out and about with my three-year old I thought I had a shopping plan which was one shop for her and one for me. I must admit life doesn’t get more fair than this plan I’d hatched. Perhaps that was my problem actually believing that the arrangement would work. After all children by nature are pretty selfish.
Tantrums are much like migraines and I’ve been exposed to both. There’s the trigger and quite frankly it could be any number of things. In this case it was watching the Disney store disappear into the background. Then there’s the aura and in this case it’s the whiny voice and unless action is taken immediately it usually progresses to an uncontrollable level. I could see things getting out of hand so I tried ‘the look’ and the passive aggressive tone of voice. Needless to say my sweet little angel totally ignored my plea for her to remain calm.
It wasn’t much longer and we’d arrived at tantrumville. Of all the unpleasant antics my children display this is by far the worst. Crying, kicking, screaming and falling to the floor as if you’re suddenly untouchable. At this point there are no threats only action. The trip home was brought closer and though I felt like I’d shot myself in the foot seeing as I left some stuff undone. I realised I only get one shot to show how serious I am. The further along I dragged her through the mall the more I felt like I was in some kind of reality show. My response is always the same I just roll my eyes and say ‘Aah kids’ seems to work.
I was really happy to be in the confines of the car and to have a moment just to breathe and sigh. I hope my little girl has got the message today anyway. Like a full-blown migraine, tantrum throwers need to be sent to bed until they feel themselves again!
The parent trap
Earlier today I had to attend a parent information evening for my five year old. As the session progressed it soon became apparent who the overly enthusiastic parents were. It’s quite a weird experience because while the constant questions keep coming from the same source you start to feel like a disinterested parent. At some point I had to tell myself in no uncertain terms that I do have my child’s best interests at heart. The truth is there is nothing more annoying than somebody asking questions they know the answers to just to create an opportunity to display their vast knowledge. It’s just so distasteful in my opinion.
Tomorrow I’ll repeat the process with my seven year old and I’m seriously dreading it because I know for a fact that the clever Jacks will be out in full force showing just how very interested they are in their children’s well being. Of course my criticism is based on the structure of my girls school which has an open door policy. Everyday is parents day and we’re more than welcome to pop in any time of the day which is exactly what I tend to do.
My girls are a top priority and I want them to get the most out of life. I guess every parent has their way of showing their interest and I can’t help but wonder if the ‘question machine mom’ is discussing the total lack of interest in the parents she came across today. C’est la vie!
Where’s Wally?
I must admit of all of the things that annoy me as a wife and mother it’s being asked for stuff that has little or nothing to do with me and it drives me crazy. Between my husband and children I often feel like a lost and found desk. When I can’t find my belongings I search high and low until the item is found or declared lost forever. Usually it is one of my offspring who make my stuff disappear into that magical place where things find their way miraculously.
The other day I found myself telling my husband that if I had a dollar for every time he asked me have I seen this, that or any other random thing I’d be pretty well off. Shoes, coats, phone chargers, headphones, wallet and just about every one of his belongings. I must admit after all these years of looking for and finding his stuff I still find myself wanting to be sarcastic when he asks about his belongings and I cheekily asked if it’s a pair of shoes or coat that I’ve worn.He is really quite long-suffering but then again so am I because after all it is a fact that there is a place for everything and everything has its place. I really wish it was that simple.
This morning while racing against the clock to get to school on time, Gemma my five-year old could only find one of her school shoes. I threatened her with a trip to school in pink shoes which was cruel considering the school shoes are black. Needless to say she wasn’t impressed and she can be very glad today wasn’t the day that I was going to teach her the importance of pairing and storing shoes. The first place I looked I found them which is another mystery to me. They always say they’ve looked everywhere and the admiration when you find the missing item is priceless as if you’ve magically made them reappear.
I almost feel compelled to accept this role of ‘the finder’ although I can’t help but feel that I’m doing them a disservice by rewarding their carelessness. It’s been said we live and learn and perhaps now is as good a time as any to teach them some responsibility and the pain of consequence. Time will tell!
Curtain call
Today marks the beginning of the first full school week. Monday’s always seem to arrive sooner than any other day of the week particularly after a busy weekend. I’m glad to report I survived Monday after taking it head on.
This weekend also signalled the end of the London summer games. All across Britain its citizens have been declaring how proud they are to be British. I guess you can’t deny the team’s success both in the Olympic and Paralympic games.
I have also been very proudly South African because while we didn’t win bags of medals we gave our very best and I have been overcome with a weird sense of patriotism.
So after a summer of lazing around and cheering my countrymen on, the fun and games have ended. While it is only September it feels like the beginning of something new. I love new beginnings!
First day fears
Today was the start of a new school year for my girls and they were pretty excited for all of the new adventures that lie ahead. When I watched them just go about their business on the playground greeting old friends and interacting like they’d been away for just a day it made my heart sing.
I can’t really remember my first days at school but I imagine I just went along with all the other kids from my neighbourhood. Unlike the emphasis that is now placed on familiarizing children with their teachers and surroundings we just popped up at school and adjusted. None of the ‘meet your new teacher for next year day’ so you feel at home when you start or return on your first day.
What I do remember is always being afraid of oversleeping. The dreams I’ve had of missing appointments or arriving unprepared for events are enough to give me temporary insomnia. Sadly that hasn’t changed even as a mother. The chances of my girls explaining to the school that they’re late because their mother has overslept is a huge probability. So while they were pretty relaxed last night I was overcome by the fear of being stuck in holiday mode. After waking up close to morning tea time for about six weeks I couldn’t imagine being ready for the school run on time. Quite disturbing considering the run only starts at eight thirty.
After realising that my plan to stay awake all night wasn’t feasible I decided to set three separate wake up calls. Oh the irony of life I was wide awake before the first chime and had all the time in the world to just waste. I’m so glad to have my first day back at school behind me and knowing that I’m capable of being a responsible mother…until the next first day!
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