First Day of School – 2018

First Day

Donut’s first day of school, and Gning’s first day in “year 2”

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The moment my heart shattered in to a million pieces…

Monday.  9pm.

It’s a late one, but we’ve just told Gning to pack up, and get to bed, as he needs to be up early for school.  As usual, it doesn’t take him long to start playing up and getting upset, but this was different.  He suddenly became inconsolable.

I made him come and sit beside me, on the settee in the front room.  I eventually managed to get him to start talking…

“Today has been the worst day of my life…”

I thought he was just playing up again, and I replied, “you’re only 6 sweetheart.  If you think today’s been the worst of your life, God help you when you’re older…”

He starts blubbing even more, and then starts to tell me that everyone doesn’t believe him, when he tells them that he went to Disney World, Florida, in the October half term holidays.

I sympathise with him.  I’ve been in his shoes, and he’s walking in mine right now.

When I was growing up, I was one of the lucky kids, whose parents had money.  My parents would jet off to all sorts of luxurious holidays around the globe (Egypt, Tunisia, Kenya, Mexico, Hong Kong, Bali…), and whenever I used to tell my (so-called) friends in school where I had been, they used to say I was lying.

It got to a point where even a teacher said I was lying – that there was no chance I had visited all of these countries…

I was labelled a liar, and that was that.  It didn’t matter how much proof I took in to school (photo’s), they were obviously faked.

So back to yesterday.

Gning tells me that there’s one boy in his class who is constantly calling him out.  He’s determined to prove to everyone that Gning is lying, and that he is better.

Then it happened.  The moment no parent should experience.  It only took two seconds, but right there – right then, I actually heard my heart smash.

“I’ll just kill myself…”

Yeah.  He said it.  My 6 year old “miracle baby” just told me that he would kill himself.

I tried my best to stay calm.  I grabbed him, and I held him tight.  The tears started…  I didn’t let go.  I held him against my chest for what must have been only minutes, but it seemed like hours.

I told him to go and get a tissue, to wipe his nose, and I went in to my bedroom.

Hubby was dozing off, as he has to be up at ridiculous o-clock for work.  I closed the door slightly behind me, and I said “I need your help”.  I tried to stay collected, and I told him what had just happened.  I broke again when I reiterated the words…  “He said that he’ll kill himself…”.  Hubby was cool.  He listened to what I had to say, then he got up.

Next thing you know, Hubby and Gning were both going in to my bedroom, and Hubby was cuddling him in the “big bed”.

I can’t have been that long when Gning came out.  He had stopped crying, and seemed calmer – and somewhat happier.  I told him that even though it was really late (it was about 11:30pm now), that he could put his TV on whilst he went to sleep.

Hubby closely followed, and brought me up to speed.

I had a job to do, and I needed to do it without hesitation.  I needed to bypass Gnings’ teacher (which I had already tried speaking to in the past), and go straight to the headmaster.

This morning, I dropped Donut off at nursery, and walked Gning over to school.  He went in with little hesitation.  I then crossed the road, to the head office, and asked to speak to the headteacher.  I was informed that she was in meetings all morning, but they would contact me as soon as they had spoken to her, to arrange an appointment for me to go in and speak to her, face to face.

My appointment is tomorrow.  3:15pm.  15 minutes before Gning finishes school.

Fingers crossed, everyone, this is going to be tough.

What’s for dinner?

We have a bit of a thing in our house, where 3 of us like donner meat, and 1 of us doesn’t.  Unusually, it’s the hubby who doesn’t like it…  He’s always called it “road kill”, and this conversation sort of spiralled out of control one day, and kebab meat is now known as “dog”.  This brings me on to the conversation I’ve just had…

Me:  “What’s for dinner?”

Hubby:  “I don’t even want to think about it yet – I’m fed up of cooking…”

Me:  “Well, we can either go the chippy, or we can go out for dinner?”

At this point, Gning and Donut come in to the room.  I ask Gning…

Me:  “Would you like chippy tonight?”

Gning:  “Yes!  I want dog!”

doner-kebab-pitta

Parenting done right if you ask me.  He loves donner kebabs with salad and sweet chilli & mayo – just like his mmymmy.


**For my readers who are not from the UK – a “chippy” is a take-away.

“Choo choo”

I just got home from work, and needed a wee, so – as you do, I popped to the bathroom, and shut the door behind me.

Next thing you know, the door opens, and a certain 1 year old joins me.  He then insisted that I couldn’t move until I read a book to him…

So, what should have been a 60 second affair turned in to 10 minutes of sitting on the toilet, pants around ankles, with a child on my knee, whilst reading about a little blue train that goes “Choo choo”.

The joys of parenthood.

30 Day Writing Challenge – DAY 1

List 10 things that make you happy

1.  My husband.  Of course he makes me happy…  I wouldn’t have married him if he didn’t make me happy!

2.  Gning.  My eldest son.  His sparkling eyes, handsome face and beautiful personality.  He never fails to make me smile and / or laugh…  He is so intelligent too.  I have a feeling his intelligence is going to be his downfall when it comes to schooling; but that’s another topic.

3.  Donut.  My youngest son.  He may only be a baby (5 weeks and 2 days old), but he can already light up a room when entering.

4.  Chocolate.  I’m a woman…  What woman doesn’t love chocolate?

5.  Camping.  I mean real camping, in a tent – not caravanning, which some people say is camping (by the way, that’s called caravanning, NOT camping *rolls eyes*).  I’m talking about real camping too…  No electricity hook-ups, no laptops…  Believe me.  I used to know someone who took their laptops camping, and they had a blow-up settee and ‘port-a-loo’.  There’s just something about being under canvas in the middle of nowhere.  I guess it’s because it’s something that I have done since I was a baby (I was 3 months old when I first slept in a tent).

6.  Scotland.  It’s true that Scottish history is full of tragedy, but there is a certain romance to it too.  History, the clans, the music (especially bagpipes), the scenery of the Highlands…  People have said that I do have an obsession.  To be honest, I can’t deny that I have.

7.  Ancient Egypt.  It’s the Gods, Goddesses, culture, architecture…  I’m fascinated by the meanings behind the temples and tombs…  I would love to be able to read hieroglyphics too.

8.  Stonethwaite.  For those of you who are not in the know, Stonethwaite is a tiny hamlet, in the district of Borrowdale, in the Lake District.  The Lake District is a National Park in the county of Cumbria, in the north-west of England.  Stonethwaite valley campsite was the first place where I crawled.  The campsite is set on farmland, next to a wonderful stream, which is amazing to listen to when you’re drifting off to sleep.  Follow the water upstream, and you will eventually come to a little known secret…  The stream becomes surrounded with rocks, and if you are brave enough, the water is certainly deep enough to swim in.  I have done it many times, although I wouldn’t recommend it unless you have an immunity to cold water.

9.  Birds.  I am an Ornithologist.  To a certain extent.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m certainly not Bill Oddie, but I do know a tad about those feathered creatures.  I’ve kept birds all of my life – primarily zebra finches.  I have successfully bred them, and I did actually write a “keepers guide”, several years ago.

10.  Writing.  Whether it’s a short story, poem, review or blog post, writing has always made me smile.  The only problem I have (which long-term Insanely Normal followers will know) is that I suffer horrifically with writers block.  Meh.

So there’s my 10 things.  What are yours?