Archive | January, 2013


22 Jan

So, in a bid to become more organised at home in the run up to me beginning my new job I decide to embark on a new routine.  Instead of the the usual rush in the morning which consists of snoozing for an hour instead of 15 mins, ironing the school uniform on a towel on the kitchen counter and throwing together a packed lunch, I decide to be a normal Mum.  On Sunday nights, instead of chilling out and socialising on Facebook, I begin the excavation of the under stairs cupboard to find the ironing board in the hope I still possess it and that it didn’t move out during one of our many house moves, deep joy! I find it, it looks like its been mauled by a hungry Alsatian but nevertheless I shove the oddments of foam back into the rips and we are good to go.  I also begin my battle with the strip of wonder web as my efforts never seem to survive the wash.  I should really sew but unfortunately I’m a jack of all trades (well some) and master of none.  I can knit and I can cross stitch but I cant sew hems , sorry mum I know you’ve shown me numerous times but I just nod and pretend I don’t get it until you’ve done all of the sewing that needs doing and then I suddenly get it, until the next time.  Anyway, back to the wonder web, the ironing is sizzling nicely and spitting out lumps of limescale through the steam holes, I’m good to go.  The first pair go nicely and there’s only about a half an inch difference between the leg heights but whats that between friends.  The second pair is also coming on nicely until I try and put my hand through to turn them inside out and realise I cant and I have rather cleverly wonder webbed the leg together, whilst this is going on the iron is nicely melting through the roll of wonder web that is innocently sitting minding its own business.  After scraping the gloop off the iron and salvaging minute strips of wonder web and patch work bits together to form a strip I finally manage to get the trousers looking acceptable….for another week.  I get into the habit of doing the packed lunch the night before and I admit I’m feeling smug that I’m so organised and we are getting to school with time to breathe rather than screeching at the teacher to ‘hold the door’ from across the playground. So its good.

This week, however, things slip.  The children were behaving like exhibits from the zoo and by Sunday evening I was exhausted and in no mood to fight with the wonder web so I let it have its victory and let it high five itself in the kitchen drawer, that’s ok I’m the bigger person.  Monday night, still feeling scarred from the Monday morning rush I vow not to allow that to happen again.  Out comes the ironing board now sporting a new accessory or wonder web gloop and looking stylish I have to say.  I plug the iron in and notice, like me, the lights are on but no-ones home, even a few swear words aren’t helping I even treated it to some nice smelling water in the hope it may take pity on me, but no.  Oh heck what do I do? I have five pairs of trousers all with the hem half hanging down and ripped, I could cut them off but I have a wonky eye and what may look straight to me the highways agency would put a hill gradient warning sign up.  I’m left with no other choice but to get the stapler out and staple the hems, it looks kind of unnoticeable if you are standing miles away, I’m happy with the result and developed a new technique.

Keep the staples in mind for this next bit.  Today is Ryan’s take a parent to school day, apparently I pass as an acceptable parent and come into the school.  Ryan is beaming and telling all the children who I am and teachers are smiling and nodding, its all going well.  We all go down to assembly and one of the other mums comes up to chat in a whispery sort of way and its a pleasant chat as chats go, we’ve done the obligatory fake compliments about each others kids even though I didn’t know which one she was pointing to so I made a non-committal comment about a jumper and it was gratefully received.

Ryan is sitting so well in assembly and I’m really pleased and he keeps turning round and smiling and blowing kisses etc etc. But then it suddenly stops and hes found something more interesting than me to look at.  I notice that he begins to pick at something and takes great measures to recover the victim of his pick, he then brings it up to his face to examine it more closely.  I can’t work out what it is and he wont turn around any more so I have no idea what it is.  He then begins to fidget and nudge his friend and point to his mouth.  At this point Ryan then turns to me and I see staple embedded into his lip somehow, I cant get to him discretely without stampeding on several rows of children and causing broken limbs, I’m at a loss as to what to do.  The child next to Ryan begins to scream as if Ryan’s eyeball has fallen out and is lolling around on his cheek, then a whole row of children start screaming and pointing.  The teacher rushes over, the assembly stops and everyone is staring.  I feel myself being ‘comforted and squeezed’ by chat mum and I just stare, by this time the staple had been removed and there is no damage, but then the questions begin.  ‘Ryan, where did you get this from?’  please don’t answer please don’t answer, I have to do something to stop the horrible truth emerging, but what, a dance? a song? oh heck I don’t know.  I begin half lurching half skipping across the hall to Ryan almost flying in fact, and I randomly start to clap,  this doesn’t work and the teacher is demanding to know where he got it from, I think she is going to launch a full health and safety investigation and call the health and safety executive in and shut the school down until the source is identified, if the source is identified two crimes will be uncovered.  The first crime is that I pinched the stapler complete with staples from my Mum, sorry Mum, and secondly my poor laundry skills will be exposed.

As I begin to act like the wounded party and start to say to the teacher that there’s no harm done and do the ‘kids’ whilst rolling my eyes thing I hear Ryan, clear as day, ‘It came from my clothes’ me: ‘ha ha oh Ryan you are funny’ Ryan: ‘it did Mummy, look  there’s lots of them in my trousers’ Cue gasp from the gathered crowd.  Me: ‘My goodness me! these are new trousers who could have possibly done this? Ryan still continuing to examine his trousers dutifully points out more of my crimes on the other trouser leg.  I try to steer the conversation back to the assembly topic but it’s not happening.  I realise that people are still waiting for a forensic analysis as to how the staples met the trousers, I have no other choice but to blame my husband (sorry Lush, I really am), people instantly begin the rolling eyes ‘husband’ routine and I’m in the clear, phew, well I’m in the clear at school but when my lovely husband reads this which I know he will, I will be back in hot water.  Fortunately he is a good man who tolerates alot, he has to, he’s married to me!

Several lessons learnt today, Children never have your back and will always out you, I have always taught him to tell the truth so I can’t argue with this.  I don’t think this organisation thing is working out for me and lastly I have though of a new hemming technique, Superglue anyone????

Much Love xxxxx