I have been preoccupied for the last few days and in no mood to write....and no! my time has not been taken up with impossible but beautiful men...alas! I wish it had because I am very, very bored at the moment.
As you know The Git recently started big school (also known as the terrible place that you are made to attend by the government) and I have been busy being his Social Secretary. How ever did Number One son manage (the 21 year old)? I honestly can't remember doing anything at all for him..I phoned him in a terrible panic last night, almost in tears...
"James, did I actually get your PE Kit/cookery ingredients/trip money etc.. for you?"
"It's okay Ma, you did your best and you always got my cookery stuff for me, even though I hated the damn lesson".
How very diplomatic of him, and then it struck me, when he was at College, I was in the grip of a a hideous fog called post natal depression. Four years of stumbling through life, going through the motions of living and wishing for every day to come to an end so that I could go to bed and thankfully pull the covers over my head. That is why I have absolutely NO recall of James' time as a newbie at College.
Anyway I am wandering off the subject again! Back to me as The Gits personal gofer. I need a holiday already. Letters arrive like a blizzard, sign me, money please, give permission, Joshua needs... . Joshua's shoes are not regulation colour, Joshua is playing rugby after school and needs a rugby shirt....Is he? Bloody hell, they had better make sure an ambulance is standing by then, The Git is absolutely solid and if he brings someone down, they will stay down!
So ever the dutiful mother (I can hear my oldest two laughing from here as they read this 35 miles down the road) I empty out his school bag and spend the evening obeying the instructions of the faceless 'they who must be obeyed'.
You did not sign Joshua's homework diary. Feck! I had better scuttle off and do that then or I will be in detention as well as the poor Git. I am exhausted already and horrified at the prospect of spending another 6 years doing this. Light bulb moment! Boarding school, that's the answer, then the TWMBO's (they who must be obeyed) will have to deal with the little boy slumped in the chair who is so tired from big school he can barely keep his eyes open, let alone do bloody homework! Irrational hatred of the TWMBO's surfaces and I feel as though it is I, not The Git , who is 11 again. He came home from school today and said, "I really hate The Government mum". I was busy at the time and replied distractedly, "yeah don't we all son". Then I sat up and asked him why he hated the government, I mean what an odd thing for an 11 year old boy to say. "Because they make us go to school", he said somewhat mournfully. Poor little man.
So here I am stamping my foot and wishing my son could attend my secondary school in Cyprus, where there were only about 200 pupils, you started at 7.45 and were done by 1.15. I was often to be found at the Water Ski club, teaching the latest contingent of Marines to ski, instead of Double English with Mr, I spit in your face, Denholm. We got away with murder and still managed to learn something. We didn't turn out so badly, among our numbers are Nurses, Midwifes, Teachers, Engineers, Top Civil servants and Paramedics.
What I am trying to say is, that whilst I realise the TWMBO's are showing The Git who is boss for these first few weeks of term, education at this age is not the be all and end all of a child. They either want to learn or they don't. I didn't and neither does The Git. I will not worry about this, he will find his niche in life and learn when he is ready, just like his Ma. In the meantime, I will continue in my full time job as his Social Secretary.
Before I finish this post it is time for a bloke update. I had been talking to a guy that I wasn't entirely sure of and as we talked more on the phone I realised he was definitely not for me! So no dates for 2 weeks now. See what happens when you try and be sensible and avoid the pretty boys.....absolutely nothing! Yawn.
As you know The Git recently started big school (also known as the terrible place that you are made to attend by the government) and I have been busy being his Social Secretary. How ever did Number One son manage (the 21 year old)? I honestly can't remember doing anything at all for him..I phoned him in a terrible panic last night, almost in tears...
"James, did I actually get your PE Kit/cookery ingredients/trip money etc.. for you?"
"It's okay Ma, you did your best and you always got my cookery stuff for me, even though I hated the damn lesson".
How very diplomatic of him, and then it struck me, when he was at College, I was in the grip of a a hideous fog called post natal depression. Four years of stumbling through life, going through the motions of living and wishing for every day to come to an end so that I could go to bed and thankfully pull the covers over my head. That is why I have absolutely NO recall of James' time as a newbie at College.
Anyway I am wandering off the subject again! Back to me as The Gits personal gofer. I need a holiday already. Letters arrive like a blizzard, sign me, money please, give permission, Joshua needs... . Joshua's shoes are not regulation colour, Joshua is playing rugby after school and needs a rugby shirt....Is he? Bloody hell, they had better make sure an ambulance is standing by then, The Git is absolutely solid and if he brings someone down, they will stay down!
So ever the dutiful mother (I can hear my oldest two laughing from here as they read this 35 miles down the road) I empty out his school bag and spend the evening obeying the instructions of the faceless 'they who must be obeyed'.
You did not sign Joshua's homework diary. Feck! I had better scuttle off and do that then or I will be in detention as well as the poor Git. I am exhausted already and horrified at the prospect of spending another 6 years doing this. Light bulb moment! Boarding school, that's the answer, then the TWMBO's (they who must be obeyed) will have to deal with the little boy slumped in the chair who is so tired from big school he can barely keep his eyes open, let alone do bloody homework! Irrational hatred of the TWMBO's surfaces and I feel as though it is I, not The Git , who is 11 again. He came home from school today and said, "I really hate The Government mum". I was busy at the time and replied distractedly, "yeah don't we all son". Then I sat up and asked him why he hated the government, I mean what an odd thing for an 11 year old boy to say. "Because they make us go to school", he said somewhat mournfully. Poor little man.
So here I am stamping my foot and wishing my son could attend my secondary school in Cyprus, where there were only about 200 pupils, you started at 7.45 and were done by 1.15. I was often to be found at the Water Ski club, teaching the latest contingent of Marines to ski, instead of Double English with Mr, I spit in your face, Denholm. We got away with murder and still managed to learn something. We didn't turn out so badly, among our numbers are Nurses, Midwifes, Teachers, Engineers, Top Civil servants and Paramedics.
What I am trying to say is, that whilst I realise the TWMBO's are showing The Git who is boss for these first few weeks of term, education at this age is not the be all and end all of a child. They either want to learn or they don't. I didn't and neither does The Git. I will not worry about this, he will find his niche in life and learn when he is ready, just like his Ma. In the meantime, I will continue in my full time job as his Social Secretary.
Before I finish this post it is time for a bloke update. I had been talking to a guy that I wasn't entirely sure of and as we talked more on the phone I realised he was definitely not for me! So no dates for 2 weeks now. See what happens when you try and be sensible and avoid the pretty boys.....absolutely nothing! Yawn.
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