Archive for March, 2012

Ever noticed how kids just don’t fight fair?  This week Flo and I had a bit of a head to head and although she let me think I’d won the battle, it turns out I didn’t win the war.

When Flo started school I gave up my twice weekly sitter and with it my one ‘zen’ moment of the week when I went to yoga.  A whole 90 minutes where the only thing to focus on was, ‘you expect me to do what with my leg?’ instead of all that other day-to-day crap.  Unfortunately Flo’s mornings only school schedule, just didn’t fit in with my class.  However, I had a plan.  After the first term, once she had settled in, I would put her in for a full day just one day a week and get back to my yoga class.  And it was all going perfectly until this Tuesday when..

“Mummy, am I staying for lunch today?”  “Yes Flo, it’s mummy’s yoga class today.”  Ommm!

To which Flo crumples her face into agonizing despair and breaks down into uncontrollable, hysterical, heaving sobs.

“Noooo, I don’t want to go, I miss my friends, I don’t like lunch.”  At this point I could write a 10 page document on the complete exchange, but basically it went something like this:

a)    Me trying to convince Flo that she would have so much fun, her response to which was to cry hysterically,

b)   Me trying to ignore/downplay the whole thing, her response to which was to cry hysterically,

c)    Me trying to issue a fait accompli, making the whole thing pointless crying about, her response to which was to cry hysterically,

d)   Me trying to point out how unfair it was to ruin the one enjoyable thing I had each week, through her own selfishness (not my finest moment!!), her response to which .. ok I think you get the point.

Finally I managed to come up with what I thought was an excellent compromise.

“Ok Flo, so what if I tried to change the day you stay to Wednesday when Bob and Bit stay for lunch (Bob and Bit being Flo’s very best friends in the whole wide world). Flo nods with a thin watery smile through sobs.

“But if I do that, you will have to go to the gym kids club while I do yoga would that be ok.” More nodding.

So I organized with school to permanently change Flo’s full day and rearranged a number of my own plans.  Flo would get to spend the day will Bob and Bit (Flo’s very best friends in the whole wide world) and I would get to yoga.

Great! Except!

“Mummy do you have yoga today?” “No Flo, that’s next week, it’s lunch with Bob and Bit today remember.” “But I don’t want to go to lunch, I don’t like lunch, I don’t want to go to gym kids club, I miss you!”

Ommmm, must find peaceful place, Ommmm, must find peaceful place!


The other day Mo gleefully announced, “there are only 3 more months of the school year left.” What? No, wait.  The school year has barely started.  “No Mo,” I respond with just a mere hint of panic in my voice, “there are six months left.”

“But it’s March, mummy.” Oh yes right, it just feels like it was only just Christmas. Still, as Mo’s school mercifully follows the British school system, she’s actually in school until the Fourth of July, which by my calculations still gives me 4 months.    “But my teacher says, if you take out all the days off we’ll have mummy, there are 3 months worth of school left.”

Now I don’t know about you, but I’ve only just managed to recover from last summer.  It’s genuinely taken me this long to get myself into a routine whereby the house only looks like disaster zone from Friday to Monday, all those ‘to do’ items that kept getting carried over week after week are finally cleared and I’m actually up to date on everyone’s dentist/doctor visits, including my own!   And as Flo only started school this year, it’s probably the first time in 3 years that I’ve been in this position.

The mere thought of 8 long weeks with 2 children who if bickering was an Olympic sport would be taking home the gold, is enough to turn me into a nail biting, hair pulling, eye twitching nervous wreck.  Not mention that this summer I will also be contending with our newly acquired crazy arsed puppy, who poops fifteen times a day (with frequent diarrhea), digs holes in my backyard you could bury a truck in and demands more of my attention than both Flo and Mo put together.

So ‘Mr Mo’s Teacher’, whilst only 3 months of school until you can kick back, sleep until noon and lie in the sun sipping a cold beer may be comforting to you, I think you’ll know from my harassed look at pick up time, it’s enough to put the fear of God into me.  There are FOUR months, in fact a whole one third of a year until you hand my dear darling Mo back to me full time.   Which should be plenty of time for me to get all the Prozac and booze required to survive!

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