The Back To School Boogie.

By Alison September 4, 2007 11 Comments 2 Min Read


Oh my the joy of instilled routine. I have to be somewhere at nine o’clock every morning for the next fifty million years and I’m so happy you’ll probably catch me doing the Charleston around the school yard…

Tis a good thing indeed that from now into eternity I have to be fully dressed by the time I am usually in the midst of prising my eyes open. Tis a good thing that scaring a classroom full of kids and respective (read glamorous) yummy mummies is not an option and thus make up must be applied, hair controlled and nightie tucked inside pants and hidden well under a desirable smock shaped tangerine frock coat. Tis a really rather wonderful thing that one’s child must be fed, watered,  ironed and delivered to responsible nursery teacher for a  blissful four hours, five days a week and his demented mummy can go about her morning routine, blog her life away and drink coffee in steamy coffee shops whenever she feels the urge, without feeling like she is a permanent contestant in the Doctor Who version of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire-  you know, the one where Chris Tarrant has a hissy fit and bangs his head on the floor when said contestant fails to understand the difference between Doctor David and Doctor Chris and is clearly incapable of comparing and contasting the super powers of the anitronic spider lady with those of the daleks from episode six of the third series.

Is it any wonder I’m halfway to a strait-jacket with delirious glee?

And so I’ve spent the day setting my little world to rights. Glueing the handles back onto some sorry looking tea cups, rooting out an extension lead for  the leopardskin lamp in the  living room so I don’t have to find my way around the house by braille, notifying the council that Mark moved out eighteen months ago and yes, I would be delighted with a back-dated reduction on my council tax, eating cold sausages dosed in sea salt, making and freezing enough vegetarian chilli to last me into the next millenium, and finally dissolving into floods of tears when it struck me that my baby is growing up.

He was four on Sunday and I miss him already. 

Anyone feel like a cold sausage?

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  1. fairycakegirl says:

    Oh I can't believe he is 4 already. My boy started high school this year, I refuse to believe I have a son old enough to be at High School….

  2. lizzie says:

    Were the cold sausages left by the bangers and mash man by the way……………. only asking.
    Is he still on the scene or is he ancient history !

  3. Gena says:

    Yes Lucy went back to school today,felt free as a bird…then all at once lost! but I was ready to get back into routine, and so was my baby I think.

  4. Gabreial says:

    I am in LOVE with this blog! Thanks for such a great resource!

  5. Amy says:

    I know just what you mean. School breaks up for 8 weeks in late December here as it will be summer holidays and a part of me can't wait! No more getting my 3 out of the door by 8.30 each morning, no more school lunches to make the night before *sigh*

  6. Rachael says:

    They grow too fast, too quickly but as I tell my 4yr old Stella, she will always be my baby!
    Have a good day – Rachaelxoxo

  7. Gayla says:

    I always told Gerred I wanted a little boy the same age he was and one for every little boy he was a year before that. Tomorrow I would have 26 little boys… Can you believe that it is just as inconceivable that he is 26 as it is that Finley's four? Exactly the same. Love ya!

  8. Ali says:

    My babies are shortly to turn 20 and 25 respectively! And as different as chalk and cheese. They do grow up way too fast.
    Ali x

  9. Sharon S says:

    In America, back when young couples went off to the west (late 1800s) at young ages, the mothers and daddies back home had to learn how to not show their feelings of pain. This must be one reason why it was such a difficult thing to say the words, "I love you" until the 70s. I can't imagine those early settler days and the pain of separation. My oldest (24) is far away in California. It may as well be overseas to me. Thank God for cell phones! I remember when she turned 4. I think I cried about that birthday more than any. Bless you, Alison.

  10. Heather says:

    Load my plate up with cold sausage and a butter tart or two and you’re on!

  11. Melissa from Georgia says:

    I could not agree more!!! Routine and preschool force me to get my act together. Hoo-ray for enforced schedules!

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