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...sundays, rugby,

I don't know what it is about Sundays but I'd always thought they were thought they were meant to be a day of rest....somehow I find myself waking up each sunday morning thinking "let the battle commence!" Despite the fact that BH takes the boys off to play rugby (and indulge in all things manly like a beer or two in the clubhouse) which leaves me with a potential 3 hours to indulge myself with Mimi in all things girly, it really doesn't seem to happen. Poor Mimi is stuck at the kitchen table with her pencils, with mummy cajoling "Draw mummy a nice picture of a dog!", whilst chucking van loads of washing into the machine, simulatanously emptying the dishwasher and writing the shopping list. Miriam (the au pair), won't surface until 2, but I think if I make enough noise she might appear and offer to take Mimi to the park. I know she won't, because she never does, but I can live in hope! Then it's off to the supermarket, to buy the items

How it began....

Most women make and keep their friends from an early age, or they meet them when they first start work. I made my friends when my children began school and despite the varying age gaps it works well for us. That’s not to say that I don’t keep in touch with my “old” friends, but at the moment I have more in common with this particular group of women. Our ages range from 35 through to 55, but that doesn ’t seem to matter now that we have got to know each other better. It all began with the School Quiz night. I remember BH , (Better half), voicing his opinion that he wasn ’t particularly interested in meeting new people as he had enough friends to keep up with and this group would only add to the list…and he didn ’t like the look of “those women”…they scared him ! Did he have to go? I said that I had no intention in going by myself, and anyway we’d be back by 10pm, plus he didn ’t have to take me out that week as this counted towards our “social life”. I must admit, that I was fair

Introducing.......

…me, of course, then there’s Jude, Stella, Marion and Victoria. We all met at the school gates several years ago, when my eldest first started at the school. Stella, Marion and Victoria already had older children there but we all had our boys in the same class. Only Jude, had another young one about to start, whilst I had another 2 waiting in the wings to join their older brother. Weeks and months went by before we actually introduced ourselves to each other, and although the boys all played together (and fought together), I could see the other parents speculatively glancing and , sizing each other up at pick up time…is that person suitable to be my friend? Is that lady with the 15 children interested in becoming my friend? Is that a grandmother or a mother picking up? All these thoughts certainly went through my head and although I’m fairly outgoing faced with prospect of 20 very different people, all who may not even like the look of me was incredibly daunting. It did

That's me...

What is it about the gates of a school that sends every mother back to their own school days? I remember being dropped off at the school gates with my mother watching me and my three brothers as we scurried into school with the hundreds of others who had the privilege of walking the short distance from their homes. Mum never walked through thoses gates unless it was to attend a parents evening. Infact it was rare to see a parent on the school premises unless someone set fire to the back of the bike sheds with their illicit smoking! My mum never got to know the other parents of my school friends, unless we were invited for an overnighter, however that was a rare occurance as many never invited me as the recipricol agreement meant them staying with us…..three younger brothers and a sister meant no privacy! Now, standing here watching and waiting for my own off-spring as they leave to start their day at school, I wonder how they will see their past school days. Will they look