Diary of a Mummy Misfit #1 (23 page)

And so the second week of the autumn term begins - amazing how few mothers I saw at the school gates this morning.  Nearly all nannies, dads or car shares.  Must have felt they’d fulfilled their motherly duties by settling their little ones in last week and it was time to get the most out of their gym memberships or hired help.

Starting to adapt to not having Max around during the day - feels really weird but have so much to get on with and knowing he’s happy makes it so much easier.

Mrs S has finally stopped pickle production and is working on her presentation and display - lots of jewelled table cloths and dried chilli garlands.  “My Pritesh says I need to set the stage for my goods and, with his successful emporium, he is very much knowing what he is talking about, Libbybeta.”

Fenella called after school drop-off to say that Todd had been in hysterics as he’d forgotten what fun he’d had last week and it all seemed scary again.  Luckily it was ‘Max to the rescue’ again and he’d taken Todd’s hand and reminded him how they could play with the Lego until ‘circle time’.

Discussed our plan of action for the committee meeting tomorrow night and hoped we were prepared enough for our first official meeting with all reps and staff.

Fenella finished with, “I hear they have wine in the staff room for these evening meetings so I’ve booked us a cab. If it all goes arse up, at least we won’t remember it in the morning!”

Tuesday 9
^th
September

Spent most of the day either scanning my notes or practising my spiel for tonight’s meeting.

The rest of the day was spent on the loo - my constitution doesn’t cope well with nerves and I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite so out of my depth.

It’s not that I don’t think that Fenella and I will do a decent job. I just feel so inadequate in other ways - salary, house, holidays, clothes, shoes, handbags, dog - need I go on?  Ned keeps telling me that we’re paying our way so we’re equal to all of them when it comes to the education of our children.

Wonder if I’ll feel that when I’m standing there in my M&S/Oxfam combination?

Although the look I have planned for tonight is a good one - kind of confident, arty and individual.

Can guarantee no one else will be wearing it anyway.  Which must be a constant worry when most Manor House mothers frequent the same designer boutiques.

Now that’s
one
worry I’ll never have to deal with.

Wednesday 10
^th
September  AM

Fenella and I had emergency coffee meeting - partly to deal with our hangovers but also to come to terms with the bloody-mindedness of some of the women we’d had to deal with last night.

‘Shaaaron’, as Chair, had absolutely no control over the proceedings whatsoever and a meeting that should have taken an hour ran on for over two.  The poor teachers - just what they need at the end of a school day.

Digression was certainly the tone of the night.  Along with “Listen to me because I’m so important” and “I’m going to disagree with everything that’s said because I’ve only got a nanny and children to get home to because my husband works
every bloody hour
that God sends and is never in the country and I’M JUST FEELING A BIT AAAUURGHHH!”

Half the things we’d intended to get sorted for the fair got sidelined, as mothers used the opportunity to bring up totally unrelated issues not listed on the agenda we’d received from Poo, the committee secretary.

- “Why can’t the school provide a cooked lunch or at least soup?  The nanny’s sick of preparing packed lunches”

- “Could Harrods provide more durable trousers?  We’d be more than happy to pay over the odds.”

- “What’s the news on CCL?”

On and on they went with their own questions and little debates - often two or three groups at a time on their own topic.

Noticed a couple of Mums were getting as pissed off as Fenella & me and looking surreptitiously at their watches while tutting to one another. Thankfully one of them, Eva, brought the meeting back on track by asking how she could help with the fair because she needed to dash off soon.

She and her friend Sarah kindly offered to take responsibility for the mammoth task of organising and running the children’s games and we then managed to recruit a few more helpers.

We finally got around to The Mafiosa presenting their food ideas.  Noticed Eva and Sarah give one another an ‘are they mad?’ look at their proposal.  Seemed as if we had some allies.

After nearly an hour of totally pointless discussion, sheer determination won over resignation.  Most of the mummies thought it was a ‘simply marvellous idea’ and ‘so civilised’. Those (few) of us who were opposed to the idea, eventually just rolled over and died - we’d got to the point where we thought we’d never get home to our children again.

Had a bit of a giggle with Fenella, Eva and Sarah outside while we were waiting for our cab.

Eva said it was the most ridiculous idea she’d heard since last year when one of the mums had suggested compulsory
mandolin
should be on the school curriculum.

She went on to say she’d been class rep for four years now because none of the other mothers wanted to do it and the meetings were always the same - a sounding board for those seeking an audience and very little actually achieved.  “It’s all Me, Me, Me”.  We laughed again when Fenella quipped that ‘Yummy Mummies’ was too flattering a term for such self-centered women and that ‘Meemies” would be far more appropriate!

Sarah warned us not to expect too much in the way of help from the majority of the mothers.  Often those who
did
volunteer wouldn’t actually deliver on the day but she assured us that they would both be organised with the games - in fact, last year she and Eva had run the food (hot dogs!) on their own and made a profit of almost a grand. 

Fenella and I had our slightly subdued emergency meeting this morning to consider once more what we’d let ourselves in for.  Ate a packet of dark chocolate biscuits to calm our nerves but Fenella hankered after something stronger.  “At this rate I’ll be back on the fags - not smoked since my twenties but I feel a relapse coming on.”

May well be joining her.

PM

More panic - what does a Manor House mummy wear to a Parent/Teachers cocktail do?  Need to feel prepared for it tomorrow night but my wardrobe doesn’t want to play the game.

Fenella said it would probably just be ‘smart/casual’ so no need to borrow Mum’s sequinned golf club number - but what?

Decided on floaty white linen trousers and an embroidered tunic with beaded sandals - if it’s all ball gowns and tiaras, I’ll make Fenella eat one of her hats!

Thursday 11
^th
September

Parent/Teachers Cocktail Party.

Spent successful morning in the Pound Shop with Fenella, buying suitable Father Christmas gifts and lucky dip prizes.  Also found decorations, wrapping paper and sweets for consolation prizes.

The difficult part was getting Fenella to leave!  Everything she picked up was accompanied with “So you’re telling me
this
is a pound?”

Obviously a Pound Shop virgin.

She left with seven bags of crap that she’d never realised she needed saying, “
Well,
I’ll definitely be going back
there. 
Thanks for taking me Lib, can’t remember when I last had so much fun.”

Think it’s good for her to see how the other half lives.

Off to get ready for the cocktail party, meeting Ned there.  Will kill him if he’s late, feel very nervous and not sure I can make the requisite small talk on my own.

Friday 12
^th
September

Cocktail party could only really be described as
interesting.

Spent at least half and hour being talked and gawped at by ‘Letchy Dad’ - guess every school has one and ours is now very well acquainted with my cleavage.  He flirted shamelessly and with huge doses of double-entendre.  Felt like I was in a Benny Hill show and fully expected him to start chasing me around the school hall at any minute.

Relieved when Fenella came to rescue me but ‘Letchy Dad’ just thought he’d died and gone to heaven - two pairs of breasts for the price of one, how good does it get?  Must admit ‘BOGOF’ was exactly what I was thinking myself.

Had to say I felt a bit sorry for him when I discovered he was married to the Gnome - guess he has to get his kicks from somewhere because I doubt there’s much action at home.

Nevertheless, we made a speedy getaway and got talking to a rather strange couple who appeared to have jumped straight from their children’s dressing up box. The wife was modelling a tartan and lace gypsy skirt and pinny, with a torn corset and pearls and the husband was in riding trousers, flowery wellies and a biker jacket.  His fetching ensemble was topped off with a tiny and tightly bound polka dot cravat.  Most odd.  They really were the most difficult couple to talk to as ‘Mrs Dress Up’ seemed to be away with the fairies - possibly doped up on Prozac or some other substance - and her husband was far too busy scanning the room for more interesting people to talk to.

Getaway #2 found us talking to Rudolph-the resting-actor (or ‘Act
or
Wank
or’
as he’s now known).  He spent the whole time talking about himself in what appeared to be some kind of audition monologue.  He was
so
successful but his agent hadn’t been able to find him the right part for the past year.  Managed to ascertain that his last job was a bit part on ‘The Bill’ and he was currently writing his memoirs.  (How would
they
read? “Coffee in the canteen was a tad cold this morning …” and “Spent a lot of time sitting around reading the paper” - while checking make-up regularly in the mirror, no doubt.)

Through all of our efforts to socialise, Ned and Josh were happily chatting in the corner knocking back the cocktails and devouring the canapés without a care in the world.

We were relieved to find ourselves talking to Jenny, the lovely school secretary.  The school has two secretaries, her and the scary one - guess they play good cop/bad cop.  Jenny is the touchy feely one and ‘Snotty Bitch’ (named by Fenella after a run in with her) does all the heavy-handed stuff - “Pay your school fees immediately or your child will be on the streets by lunchtime.”

Jenny was telling us she’d been at the school for five years and her husband Colin was the caretaker. It was an ‘interesting life’ she told us and her words implied a lot more than she was actually saying.  Could be a good source of inside info, methinks.

She asked us if she could sell pashminas at the Christmas fair, as it was something she dabbled with on the side - “Anything to boost the meagre wage they pay!”  Arranged for her to pop around after school on Monday for a preview - definitely one to get in with.