Mummy at the School Gate

Its been three weeks since Peewee (aptly named by Mimi), joined our household, and he's settled in as though he's always been here. Chubba has taken him under his paw, and together they make forays into the garden, sniffing, doing their business and "reading the papers" as my ma says. They make a handsome couple and Peewee is never far from Chubba's watchful eye. Persuading BH to get Peewee, was easy. "Chubba will teach him the rules" was one persuasion. "It will teach the kids a sense of responsibility" was another. Walking him won't be a problem as I always do it anyway, and in my own weird way I plan to train him with love, after all I've potty trained 3 kids and never lost my temper. I know, I know, like kids dogs and puppies need to know the boundaries, they need to know how far they can push and they need to know who's boss...and it isn't me! Peewee has me feeding him by hand. He just won't chow on down like m

Yesterday morning I decided that the chaos at home deserved more attention than my attire. The school bags had been lost and the packed lunches hastily cobbled together. The shopping hadn't been done this week because the new puppy couldn't be left on his own...and anyway I didn't want him destroying the relatively new kitchen!! As usual, Miriam (au-pair) was lazing in her pit, while Armageddon was close to destroying her slumber. She was planning on visiting 82 year old Mrs B down the road to do some cleaning and needed to get some well needed rest before the onslaught of cups of teas and more rest. Now I've seen Mrs B's house, and I know for a fact that no cleaning gets done. I've told her she's taking money under false pretences and I've told Mrs B to make her earn her money, but it all falls on deaf ears. Mrs B thinks Miriam is a sweet girl (she is), and she needs a rest from us! Miriam thinks Mrs B is a sweet old lady who only really needs a

Bart (the eldest) had the stuffing knocked out of him a several months ago, whilst playing rugby. He had a black eye, and what seemed to be bite marks on his arm!! He was in a sorry state, and my heart went out to him. Who like to see their child in pain, and who wants retribution? However, I can't take my frustration out on the child who caused the pain, (apart from the fact that I wouldn't recognise him) and I can't stop Bart from playing rugby!! "What can I do, to make it all go away? Shall I kiss it better?" I'd asked, knowing that this was a rhetorical question. I haven't yet learnt the art of manipulating a conversation to go my way. "No..it hurts!" "Shall I beat that boy to a pulp?" "You won't catch him, anyway his mum would be as angry as you are now, anyway Dad said it was my own fault. I shouldn't have let him tackle me. " Oh thanks BH, for your wonderful words of wisdom! "...and dad said that next

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

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

…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

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