I’ve discovered that I like writing when I’m munching on nice cakes and sipping a lovely coffee, usually not at home too. On Tuesday I popped into Waitrose for a few bits and bobs and found myself writing away in the coffee shop whilst eating a lovely little nibble. Economically, this partnership of writing with cake and coffee could be problematic but also what will I do when the summer holidays commence? Six weeks of no ‘me time’ may sound like I’m selfish and resent being a mother but having finished University in early June it has become rather nice to just nip and have a cuppa in my favourite surroundings.
On reflection though I think it was mainly a way for me to escape a little whilst waiting for school to finish. I was kind of excited and nervous at the same time because my youngest had been in school all afternoon on the last of his taster sessions. I was excited to hear how he’d enjoyed school again but I was also nervous that he would be mad at me for abandoning him there.
My husband and I did get to enjoy lunch at the school with him and the other new starters today before leaving him. The lunch was amazing, stereotypical school dinners are definitely a thing of the past. I’ve always laughed in the past when the school have raved on about their award winning chef but now I can see why. The food is sourced locally and for £2 a day the children get to enjoy the most tasty dishes ever. I’m not just saying this to blow smoke up their backsides, I personally would make Chef Ramsey look like a pussy cat when it comes to critiquing food. The spag bol I had was dee-licioussss and the portions were good too with offers of second helpings! No wonder I rarely get my daughter to eat much of an evening.
After a lunch and a quick play in the school woods it was time for us to abandon our son for the afternoon. His sister was there trying to help but I still had to resort to the classic ‘dump and run’ manoeuvre that I’m sure many parents will be familiar with. Dump him in the arms of a teacher and run for the car park. I could hear him shouting ‘Mummy I want a kiss’ from the car but I didn’t go back, I just left. I can’t even begin to describe how guilty I was feeling. Perhaps I should have gone back to give him a kiss but he’d already had five or six before I handed him over, plus lots of snuggles. For years I’ve had to endure a ritual of many kisses, hugs, and more sloppy kisses before the nursery staff or child-minder have had to prise him off me as if stuck to me by Unibond’s finest.
With him going to school I felt he needed to break this habit a little. This little bump protruding from my tummy is making it so hard to carry him everywhere or lift him up to cuddle him all the time.