We Are Dectectives!

Now I know about school, I spend a lot of time in these places, I understand how ‘they’ teach long multiplication these days, I know what the initials P.S.H.C.E. and S.E.A.L (all your children do it you know!) stand for, I know all the songs there is to know that count up and down to 10 and I know all the actions to jolly phonics from a a a ant – crawling up your arm to z z z z- buzzing bee elbows in, hands flapping…….

I don’t know if it’s because I know so much about school – a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing - or if it just highlights a previously unknown controlling side to my nature but I’m greedy for more I’m desperate to know what my four year old does all day, I would be unsatisfied with a minute by minute account of his day, I need more!!!

Maybe fuelled by this information or maybe because he inherited his father’s skill for sharing – (is it just a boy thing?) My boy is stone to my vampiric tendencies and there is no red liquid forthcoming!

Our conversations used to go something like this,

‘What did you do today?’

‘Nothing’

 ‘Who did you play with?’

‘No one’

Or when he was feeling tricky….

‘Who did you play with?’

‘Mr No-body!!!!’

Recently he has started to feel a little sorry for me though because now as I start my line of questioning he says…

‘All of them, (weary sigh from his young lips) I played with all of my friends today!’

Oh it takes patience, lots and lots of patience to wait for him to slowly let me in on his day, asking few questions lest he clam up again….it’s too hard for me!

A friend of mine recently told me about the impressive, rolling, grandiose bow her little one showed her after the question, ‘Do you know how a king bows?’

She rather cleverly deduced that the nativity rehearsals had begun – (in November too, shame on them…and I love Christmas) She managed to probe a little further and discovered her bouncy four year old had been someone type cast as a cracker!!!! The parts involve lots and lots of lively, energetic jumping!

So back to my own secret squirrel, last week he told me,

‘All the girl’s were getting married and wearing dresses but he couldn’t get married because he is a boy (this might be a little like his dad too!)’

Aha! I thought nativity! Angel frocks!  But apparently not - just some role play as the nursery nurse is getting married next year in a princess dress. (Not sure why he thinks boys don’t get married, or who Miss is marrying, but this is Chorlton….)

Don’t get me started on wanting to spy on the one year old at nursery….is it so wrong to want to web cam the daisy room?

Captain Chaos and family go to school!

More Chaos!

So what a lovely half term the kids and I had, busy, activity filled fun, but Monday morning soon rolls back round and I’m back to work. I drop the baby off at nursery and go into work – it’s a training day so I turn off my phone and get filled in on a great programme to encourage talk, stimulate conversation and improve literacy skills.

My partner takes the four year old to the school breakfast club.

His spidery senses tingle. His suspicions become aroused, a lonely caretaker is polishing the floor where normally 50 kids scramble over breakfast. He checks his watch – has he, (like we did last year for a theatre visit, after the clocks went forward) arrived an hour early? He has not.

Bad Mummy did not read the term dates letter properly and so he is left holding the kid with one hand and his briefcase bursting with work in the other.

Fortunately, he bumps someone who lets him know the after hours care club is holding a session in a local church of course you usually have to pre-book but he persuades them to  slip the four year old (complete with school uniform) into the club and he’s a little late but all is well. Off he hurries to work, his frantic calls to me left unanswered – phone off training day.

About an hour after he gets into work, he gets a call from the club, number one son has wet himself – this is a new place, he leaves it till the last minute anyway especially when playing and he doesn’t know (and struggles to ask) where the toilets are.

So briefcase still loaded down with unfinished work he treks back to pick him up. He finds him wearing tiny girl’s knickers and leggings! Which he gives back to the staff being unaware of the wash it and bring it back courtesy and takes number one son home pant-less and trouser-less! (And indeed coat-less – the school coat he leaves somewhere in the church hall!) His frantic calls to me left unanswered – phone off training day.

By now I turn on my phone and feel tremendous embarrassment. What sort of a crapster am I? Getting the date wrong like that! (It barely crosses my mind that he could have checked too!)

When I arrive home my beautiful four year old is dressed in clothes his father found him from the tidy and labelled drawers and wardrobe – his best party trousers and the one year olds top!

‘Didn’t you think it was a little small?’ I ask, ‘I don’t really want to push it after the day he’s had

‘I did a bit’ he says – I look over at the four year olds midriff a la Kylie and quietly shake my head.

I pour him a beer, it’s been a tough day and resolve to turn off my phone more often for a little bit of peace.