Services offered: most posts considered

Apparently my employer can no longer afford to pay for my services. Which means that as of October I could very well be job-free.

As you may imagine this has come as a bit of a blow (I am, by the way, a master of understatement). Up until now one of the saving graces of my 'situation' has been that I have had relatively few money worries associated with this split. Ok, so I had to go from working two days a week at a charity to three days with a professional money-making business, but I would happily admit that was hardly a major source of woe.

I have been fortunate enough to be able to stay living in our home, which in turn meant less upheaval for the girls and myself at the most difficult period of the split. I can pay the bills and I still have a car. Of course all this is partly down to my greenward shift, buying fewer new goods and clothing etc, making more of my own food and buying in bulk, and, let's face it, also drastically reducing the amount I spend on socialising (I reckon that adds up to about £5 a month or thereabouts!).

Anyway, time for a rethink. Someone is coming to value the house next week, just so I can get an idea of whether it would be worth me trying to downsize without moving my 5 year old too far from her school. But hopefully it won't come to that. Some weeks I barely manage to keep on top of the laundry, can you imagine actually moving house? Like I say, hopefully it won't come to that.

Superhero day

It's the last week of the first year at school. What a milestone. As a way of marking this stupendous occasion five year old is allowed to dress up as a 'superhero' and take in 'savouries to share with 6 friends' on Thursday.

Reading this out to her thinking it would be something exciting, the reply comes; "I don't want to dress up."

"Oh. Well, you don't have to."

Later the reason gradually emerges. Superheroes are for boys, obviously.

After trawling the internet for possible girly but brave and tremendous feminine superheroes, and also speaking to my sagacious sister (who has two boys and therefore knows infinitely more than I on the subject of superheroes) I try approaching the subject the following morning at breakfast time.

"I've been thinking about your party. You could be Supergirl. What superpower would you like to have, flying? running fast? juggling?"

"AAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!! (Actually it was louder and more blood-curdling than that in reality) I DON'T WANT A MUMMY!!!"

Hmm. Maybe my timing was wrong.

"I could make you a cape." (Sounding a bit desparate now.)

"Really? Can I have a purple one?"

You see, I am learning about this girly stuff gradually. It's all in the accessories.
Apparently.

Doh, now all I have to do is find suitable purple material and fashion it into a cape worthy of superhero status. And before Thursday, obviously.

Hopping

Just read five year old's first ever school report. Despite my determination to not crow too much about my lovely girl's achievements I just can't resist writing that it made me feel very warm to read how she's developed personally and academically at school in the first year. I was so worried about her emotional state of being in the period leading up to our change in family circumstances, but I myself have seen her grow into a happier and more confident child as we have all settled into our new living arrangements. So to read the first sentence: "She is a happy and polite little girl." was very heartwarming indeed.

In addition to the notes about her academic development, the teacher has noted that she has made some good friendships and has blossomed in confidence.

At the end of the report there is a page with a couple of comments from my daughter herself. Reading these I am glad to note that she doesn't (yet?) see school achievements in terms of the confines of the conventional classroom. She says: "I am very good at skipping and drawing." (True) And then: "I am going to try harder at hopping." You go girl, I reckon we could all do with being a bit better at hopping.

Rhyme time

Cottleston, cottleston, cottleston tuna,
Make me a cake or I'll go lunar.

(As sung by five year old earlier today.)

Iced tea

It's been rather hot this week. The girls have been struggling to get to sleep in the evening but at least once they're off they're really off. Finally my attempts at blacking out just about every window upstairs are also starting to take effect in the morning so it's looking good for the moment.

Yesterday my eldest - who is about to finish her first year of school, wow - told me she had been to see her new classroom for next year. "It's next to the iced tea suite mummy." Mmmm, yes, now that would be nice.

Before I go

I know that some people have a list of things they want to do before they leave the world behind. My list is more of a 'things to be' with a few 'things to do' thrown in:

1. Learn to appreciate the things I have and not dwell on the things I have not.

2. Never hold back from saying something that could make someone happy.

3. Occasionally hold back from saying something that could make someone unhappy.

4. Stop beating myself up for things I have done wrong and learn to praise myself instead.

5. Stop counting the things I still need to do and count the things I have done instead.

6. Make time for people rather than tasks.

7. Do something nice for someone at least once a day.

8. Do something nice for me at least once in a while.

9. Get outside more.

10. Write more.

Guilt: part 378b (or thereabouts)

Doh. It was a non-uniform day today at school. Unfortunately I was completely oblivious to this fact until we turned the corner at five to nine and saw hundreds of small children of the type who are lucky enough to have parents who actually read information and retain it all dressed in their favourite clothes. Oh poo. Hmm, let's try and turn it into something fun: "hey, you could be the only one in a dress like yours" yeah right, that's going to do it. No, instead the only thing that's going to work is me offering to walk back home and get another set of clothes, and then walking back up to school with them. Bleargh.

Trying not to blame anyone else for the mistake - apparently there had been a big notice on the door the night before when I hadn't been on school run duty - I gave five year old a big hug and tried not to get upset myself at her tears.

In the end she was fine, I was probably more distraught at having made such a mistake - although there were quite a few other parents in the same position as me this time so the consensus is that it hadn't been well publicised.

I was annoyed at myself though because I think I have now got into a good routine with the morning rush, remembering most of the important things on a daily basis. So far we have never been late and I reckon my morning shouting is fairly minimal these days too. So for me this mistake marks a blemish on my personal record.

Anyway when we got home later five year old wrote "I love mummy" on the back step in chalk, so she must have forgiven me for now. Hopefully.