Tuesday, 17 September 2013

The start of school - the end of four years.

So that's it: As of yesterday, my baby is in school full time.  He's been doing half days for a couple of weeks already, and so far he absolutely loves it.  Me?  Not so much.  The peace and quiet is glorious, and I can finally get on with all those things that I couldn't get on with while he was at home ("cleaning", says my husband, pointedly).  But having lived my life at the centre of hurricane Rory for over four years, I feel a little bit lost, a little bit pointless, and slightly unsure of myself.  I also miss the nefarious bugger, and putting on my boots without encountering any cottage cheese lurking in the toes is a bittersweet pleasure, as it only serves to remind me that this dairy produce subterfuge is on hold until October half term as the perpetrator is at school, charming his new teacher.

It seems like a good time for a retrospective post, looking back on my time as a stay at home mum.  It's quite telling that this blog began when Rory was two years old.  The time before that is a hazy mess in my memory, although I don't know if this was because I had postnatal depression or just because I'm spectacularly bad with babies.  I'm never having another one, so I'll never find out.  I sometimes think I ought to write more about those two years, especially the first couple of months, during which I was under the care of the emergency psychiatric team.  It could help others and it should be talked about, but I write under my real name, and I worry about the repercussions.  Thoughts, anyone?

From then on though, it's been all fun and games.  I've shared with you some expert tutorials to inspire you to do things with your children...

...we've discussed the joys that a child brings to your life...

...I've recounted the tale of The Great Toilet Paper Incident of 2010...


...I've had a serious think about how easy it is to airbrush your life...

...slagged off CBeebies a lot (and perved on Mister Maker)...

...and you've all become familiar with the inner workings of the inimitable Rory's mind...

So, the day before school started, I watched Show Me Show Me to bid farewell to Chris and Pui (yes, I've bitched about every single other CBeebies presenter, but I do love a bit of Chris and Pui), took Rory to the farm to poke goats with sticks and play on the tractors, then walked home with him, hand in hand, talking about our day, just like always.  I think that's what I'll always remember most about my time at home with him; not the chaos and the mess and the lack of money and the endless rainy days when we ran around making sheep noises with pairs of tights on our head just for something to do.  That little hand in mine: That's what I'm going to miss.  

Thanks kid.  It's been a blast.


  1. That little hand will still want to walk home from school with you.

  2. Now you've made me miss Katie more and start crying!

  3. Awwwwww :) it's a funny old time, isn't it! X

  4. Aw, I bet the time has flown by. My boys started pre-school last week - aged 2 and a half. I sobbed on the doorstep. Ok, I lie. I sobbed in the classroom. Then I sobbed all the way home, and for the next 3 hours until I picked them back up. The time goes far too quickly.

  5. For the record, I LOVE your blog. It gives me precious moments of laughter and sanity, when most of the time I am flailing around like a crazy person trying to juggle my 2.5 year old and 7 month old. I think you should absolutely talk about the first two years of motherhood. Many women find those first months/years incredibly difficult - I suffered with symptoms of PTSD following an awful labour with my first daughter nearly three years ago (flashbacks, hallucinations, panic attacks - undiagnosed at the time, it's only in hindsight that I've realised what it was), and I cried A LOT. But there is nothing more healing than finding other mums who are willing to say "Me too!". Despite the hideousness of those early months, I have become a very happy and confident mum of two (and, on particularly crazed days, even find myself entertaining the notion of a third). Unfortunately, however, I come across mums all the time who feel they shouldn't admit how traumatic becoming a parent can be, and insist on telling everyone, "It's wonderful, everything's so beautiful, who needs sleep ha ha! I'm fine, no really, I'm fine!!" even though their desperate expressions tell otherwise. I'm sure, if you did decide to talk more about your experiences, your wonderful way with words would do justice to yourself and other women who can relate to you. Hope Rory is getting on well at school :) PS I'm also a primary school teacher turned full-time mum, there are a lot of us!