October 2012 Archives - mocha beanie mummy

Society Stinks

October 18, 2012 By mocha beanie mummy 6 Comments

One of the reasons I’m looking forward to getting Noah out of current Crappy School, is quite honestly, because of the standards. Don’t get me wrong, I have found his teacher Mrs H to be absolutely LOVELY. In fact, if it were possible, I would ask that Noah can take her to his new school. Unfortunately, it’s the rest of the school and/or attendees which make me cross.

The Mr and I are raising Noah and Isaac to be well mannered, polite, caring and considerate boys. It’s not that hard. Actually, it’s quite easy, especially when you lead by example (though I do have to prod The Mr occasionally to remind him to say please, thank you and excuse me…). But I think it’s important in life. I think they are some incredibly important and necessary life skills.

So, when I’m walking along the path to Noah’s school gate, with Isaac in his pushchair, or I have them both either side of me, and people seem incapable of not taking up the entire path when walking towards me, I get cross. And I get severely fucked off when Isaac or Noah get shoved out of the way, because people won’t move the hell over. I also get reeeeeally annoyed when (already running late), The Smalls stop to let people through gates and doorways, and they are completely unacknowledged. Or when I let them through and they don’t even look me in the eye. No nod of gratitude.

And it’s not just at school.

I get sick of people’s rude attitudes in general. It fucks me off that people seem to forget how to have a two-way conversation. I seem to have figured out how to build up some friendships lately, though I don’t know how far or deep they will go. And one of the things I LOVE, is a “Hey, how you doing?” and not bombarding me with a ton of shit, but actually talking to me because they WANT to. Not because they are just looking for the first person to vent their spleen at.

For the record, I don’t mind people venting their spleen at me, I know we’re all stress-heads in this environment today. But it goes two ways. It always goes two ways.

Weirdly, I’m a sucker for the “Hey, how you doing?” message. Whether it’s on twitter, facebook, email, text, iMessage, Whatsapp, whatever. It will never fail to make me smile, no matter who it’s from. It’s always nice to think “ah! They actually want to talk to me! They were thinking of me! Ok they want to vent, but they were nice enough to acknowledge first!”

And there’s a key word. “Acknowledge“. It’s not hard.

Maybe I’m too old fashioned. Maybe I should accept that we now live in a world where manners, consideration for others, respect, is becoming a non existant thing. And yet, I continue the fight for Noah and Isaac to be back in private school. Why? Because even from the age of 3, they are expected to wear shirts and ties. If Isaac was still in the school, his uniform this year would be a shirt, school tie (albeit on elastic), knee length grey shorts, regulation knee high socks, v-neck school jumper, and a blazer. And going in/out of school, he is to wear a regulation school cap. He would be expected to say “good morning” or “good afternoon” to every member of staff who adresses him. When the headmaster walks into a classroom, they are to stand and adress him (or her…) in unison. The school revolves around tradition; focuses on VALUES.

But on the whole, it’s not fucking hard to acknowledge someone. Especially if you are going to make an effort to continue to speak to them. So you know what, Society of Human Beings? Pull your head out of your arse, and start thinking about those other people around you. It’s a wonderful feeling, trust me. Some of them are amazingly great people! But you won’t know that until you stop being a self-obsessed asshat.

Filed Under: asshats, Just a Thought, MAKE IT STOP, RANT.

Pwned.

October 16, 2012 By mocha beanie mummy 5 Comments

Last Thursday, we had a letter from County Council A saying they had spoken to County Council B and found a space for Noah in one of the schools we originally wanted. The school is in County Council B. However it was County Council A who wrote to us. We haven’t heard from County Council B in a while. Anyway, I inform current school (in County Council A) that Noah has a place at a closer school, and will be moving at half-term. Huzzah!

So yesterday, we phone up the new school (in County Council B) and they tell us they know nothing of the situation.

Errrrrrrrrrrr say whut now?

The Mr speaks to them again today, this time armed with The Letter From County Council A, and tells the school all we know. Turns out, the school are fine with this, even though they knew nothing about it. Which makes me wonder; if that’s the case, why couldn’t they just take him in the first place, back when we applied, phoned and wrote to them repeatedly in September?

Anyhoo, Noah has a school much closer to home.

Unfortunately, it’s still not the same school as Isaac. And because they are a different County Council (Isaac is currently County Council A, Noah will be in County Council B), it also means their school holidays are different. So where I was hoping to spend some “proper time” with both of them over half term before launching myself back into full time work, instead we will all be pretty much going straight through until Christmas. Yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.

I’ve calculated that if I keep booking weddings at this rate, we may be able to get them back into the safety and sanity of private school by 2014/15. If I suddenly become SUPER AWESOME, it could even be 2013/14. But I might still have to sell a body part.

And then, because Monday is a fucking douche nozzle and seems to have spilled over into Tuesday, my phone died yesterday. It buzzed non stop for about 3 minutes, then turned itself off and refused to switch back on. Before I had backed everything up. And just after I had told a load of potential clients to give me a call. After procrastinating and being horribly skint and staring forlornly at my bank account, I had stern words with my network supplier and made them do me a half decent deal on a new phone.

And then this morning my phone turned itself back on, completely out of the blue.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKADOO.

In other news, I reckon I’m going to save myself some petrol over the next few months, eh?

Filed Under: asshats, Education, Fucked-Up-Ness, Noah, School, wtf

I TRIED. Urgh.

October 8, 2012 By mocha beanie mummy 10 Comments

Child 1: “I HATE YOU! I don’t like you!”

Child 2: *raises hand in a “talk to this” style*

Parent of child 1: “OI. Do you want a smack? You SHUT IT!”

…

Child running away from parent.

Parent of child: “OI! C’MERE YER LITTLE SHIT!” She looks around. “Oops, I mean, YER LITTLE SOD!”

…

Child running across grass.

Parent of child: “GEORGE! STOP BLOODY RUNNING AWAY AND GET YOURSELF ERE NOW!”

…

I have no idea if this is acceptable to hear for most parents and children out there. The above were three different incidents, albeit small incidents, heard at Noah’s school in the space of 2 days. I have watched children run out in front of cars in the car park, whilst the parent stood by and shouted (rather than actually chasing them, or even better, keeping a hold on them in the first place).

On Noah’s first day, he told me of a little boy who was spitting at him. Obviously I asked him if he mentioned it to the teacher; he had done. The child had continued, but apparently stopped after a little while. Another child in the playground, every single pick up and drop off, is riding a scoot-bike (no pedals), and repeatedly rams into parents and children. He’s hit Isaac numerous times. The mother, stood very close by, does nothing to stop him.

Maybe, just maybe, I set my standards too high. Maybe, I expect to much of youngsters at school (all of the above incidents were with children who could not have been older than 6). Maybe I am indeed a snob, and should learn to accept some kind of regular way of life.

The thing is, I can’t tolerate what I’m seeing. It grates me. It leaves me cold. It makes me cross. I scream repeatedly on the inside. Every single morning and afternoon, I literally run in and out of the school as fast as possible with the boys. I know, I know, we can’t live in a bubble. They have to “experience real life”. I get that. However, there are things I do not want my children exposed to, because it is not a way of life. Not in our house. Not ever.

I knew I had a sinking feeling about the school when we first took Noah, and at the time I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. As we have completed the first week, and starting the second, my desperation to get him the hell out as soon as possible, is making me physically sick. Every single day, I hope and pray to the Gods of The County Councils, that they will phone or write and say that a space is available for Noah at one of the nearer schools. All of which, are gorgeous and lovely and perfect.

I know and trust that Noah is an incredibly sound and level headed boy. I know he has a surprising amount of common sense, and he knows what is right and wrong. But that doesn’t make me feel happy knowing he is exposed to the crap such as that above. I shout and swear a lot. A whole lot. But NEVER, NEVER in front of my children. Or in front of other people’s children. Or in the goddamn school playground; an environment supposedly safe for parents and children alike. (In theory.)

A letter arrived today confirming Noah’s placement on another waiting list at a nearby school. The three schools near us – he is now listed for them all. We have reached the point where there is nothing, nothing more I can do. The school run will continue to try and grind me down, and through the winter I can only hope I make it through without being crushed by depression. I hang on desperately to the fact that I’m booking my weddings next year, with some booked for 2014 already. The hope is getting the boys back into private education by 2014/15.

I just want the absolute best for them. And right now, what I’m giving them sure as hell is not good enough.

Filed Under: MAKE IT STOP, Noah, School, wtf

And now I need to be happy about it.

October 1, 2012 By mocha beanie mummy 7 Comments

Hmmm. Having spent much of the summer holidays freaking the fuck out, I decided to call the school for which Noah was 1st on the list AGAIN on Friday. Hoping for an update. They advised us that someone else and moved into the area closer to the school than ourselves, and so therefore they are at the top now. We asked about appealing; so far NO ONE has ever won an appeal. Shortly after that conversation, I spent a good few moments crying and throwing up.

Wondering if I would EVER get Noah into a school, Worcester County Council advised me to phone up schools myself to find out. Yay! Awesome! Cheers for that! Good to know you can do your job, Worcester! WELL DONE.

That afternoon, we trekked over to a small village about 7 miles, to the only school anywhere near us with spaces. As of last Friday, around 4:30pm, both of my boys finally had a school to go to. YAY! Small problem. It’s 7. Miles. Away. Even better, it’s not even the same school which Isaac is at. That’s 2 miles away. And not even in the same direction.

We walked around, the secretary talked my ear off, Noah prodded and pointed at everything, and talked to the last of the staff who were still there. They seemed lovely, the school seems lovely, everything seems nice…but all weekend I have had this horrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I have no idea how to make this work, and the sense of overwhelming panic is scaring me shitless.

I wasn’t going to blog this morning, but I have woken up with a fear so bad, I could happily go and empty my stomach. I’ve had weird dizzy spells and flushes over the last 2 months, and this morning everything feels even worse. Everything should be fine; everything should be sorted now. And yet I have this unease.

I’ve looked at the timings, and the school run, and routes, and I have no idea how I am going to make this work. Isaac’s gates open at 8:30. Unfortunately, for the whole of Isaac’s first week last week, they never once opened on time, instead opening between 8:35 and 8:40. Interestingly, Noah’s school starts at 8:40, and he must be there by 8:50. The drive from one school to the other is approximately 17 minutes.

I’m hoping I’m just being thick, but the maths here tells me that’s not possible to accomplish without one or the other being very late.

So the obvious solution is to send Isaac to the same nursery as his brother, eh?

No can do. They only operate half day; I cannot afford the petrol or time to drop Noah off, come home, go back to drop off Isaac (they only have afternoons available) come home, then go back at the end of the day to pick them both up.

Sitting here with The Smalls playing in front of me; I am currently on the verge of what I think might be a panic attack. All I want to do is cry, throw up and stop myself from shaking rather a lot.

I can’t see how I am going to do this for a year. I can’t see how it is going to work. I don’t understand how I will get any work done, by pretty much driving back and forth, waiting in car parks and screaming at traffic. I understand there are plenty of other parents who deal with this situation, but I am not one of them. For me this isn’t just about The Smalls being in school; this is all about having no idea about how the fuck I am going to fit everything into the 19 hour window currently available to me. 19 hours is LOADS of time!! (Said in my best Nanny Plum voice) Unfortunately, most of that time is wasted and lost, and the actual number of those hours spent working, happen well beyond 11pm.

I have a fear. I fear I will break. I fear I will lose track, be unable to do everything and just break. The sense of panic is right there, in my stomach, and I have to make a conscious effort to breathe firmly and stop it from rising. I know I can write to-do lists until they come out of my ears; but I know I will let The Smalls down at some point; get something spectacularly wrong; forget something essential, be late every single day…this was not the start I wanted for my children.

I worked hard for the best start I could, and instead I’ve failed them. They’re in schools miles apart (Isaac spent the first week being tearful when he realised he wasn’t with me or Noah), one of them will always be late, I don’t know how to keep working on top of it all, I don’t see when I am to spend time with them, I can’t afford the petrol (there is no school transport service), I am bound to pack their bags wrong and I am panicking.

And this scenario would appear to be the case for the next year. But it’s ok, because I’m happy about it. Right?