As a school Mummy, I am an abject failure.
This Monday was Harvest Festival. I remembered this just as I was holding open the school's front door for another School Mummy and her three kids. Each child was holding a cardboard box filled with Arborio rice and jars of organic pasta sauces.
As I mentally kicked myself, I noticed the three kids’ boxes were decorated. With lovely sparkly wrapping paper and glitter and everything. That’s just offensive, frankly. Also? It meant I couldn’t really get away with giving Flea the cereal bar and box of raisins I’d just remembered were in the glove compartment of the car.
Here’s the thing, though – the average human being can only remember seven pieces of information at any one time. I can't remember where I read that, obviously, but I did read it somewhere. And the average primary school seems to feel the need to send home seven letters each day!
At Flea’s school, October kicked off with a charity coffee morning. Then there was a literacy seminar for parents. Then it was book week and we were encouraged to go in to see our kids visit the school library. Then there was the book fair. Then Harvest Festival. Tonight it's parents evening and then there’s the “friends of” the school meeting tomorrow. There’s also a play-date to fit in this week, and a ritual sacrifice of the town virgin. Okay, I made the last one up, but I bet it’ll come around sooner or later.
Seriously, how much time do these people think I have?
I feel obliged to attend as many of these activities as I can because on some level, I feel Flea’s entire educational career will be hopelessly compromised if I’m not on the right table at the Christmas Ball. But I’m self-employed and the whole journalism thing does kinda rely on me occasionally spending time talking to people and, you know, writing stuff. It’s a constant dilemma. How do other mothers fit it all in?
