Diary of a Mummy Misfit #1 (36 page)

The heads were delighted with the amount the cookbooks raised for CCL - almost a term and a half’s fees.

Even a quick drink with Fenella afterwards didn’t cheer me up.  Found myself silently thinking if
she
ever has any worries.  I know money isn’t the ‘be all and end all’, and people have other things to worry about, but it would certainly make life easier if we could wipe
that
one from our list.

Just can’t seem to shake the feeling of doom and gloom.

LABOUR

Tuesday 9
^th
December  AM

Nativity this afternoon

Have just been way too miserable to write - who wants to read over their old diaries and discover that they did nothing but weep and wail? 

Spent the last few days putting up with the noise and mess of roofers.  We’re finally done and a good deal more in debt.  New carpet being laid tomorrow - the cheapest and most hard wearing we could find.

Feeling more positive now.  Not least because it’s Max’s nativity this afternoon and no parent can sit through one of those with a heavy heart.

We’ve also got end of term Christmas carols tomorrow and the school ball on Saturday - we’d considered asking for a refund on the ball tickets, after our last expense, but didn’t want to accentuate our ‘paupers status’ through our absence.  Start panicking tomorrow about what to wear - remember to consult Fenella.

Also need to start making some sort of plans for a mega-cheap birthday celebration for Ned on the 19
^th
.  How thoughtless to have a birthday so close to Christmas and when we’re so broke.  Wonder if he’d prefer to have the socks for his birthday and a giant Toblerone for Christmas?

PM

The nativity was tear-jerkingly sweet whilst also being an eye-opener.

I’ve never seen such fierce battle for ‘the best seats in the house’ - it’s a
school hall
for Christ’s sake (sorry Baby Jesus).  ‘Mary’s’ mother was insisting that she could oust a lowly wise-man’s parents from their front row seats because her daughter was the lead.  Then ‘Joseph’s’ father said
he
had to have front row seats because his wife had been called away to a meeting and he needed to video it.

As it happened any recording or photography was banned due to child protection.  A professional company had been brought in for the job and photos could be obtained at the ‘bargain’ price of 9.99 and a DVD would retail for 24.99.

Gestapo actually had the audacity to get ‘Joseph’s’ father to leave his front row seat then as “Now you can’t film so you’re there under false pretences!”

Lots of small (but characteristically loud) talk while we waited for the show to start.

“We’re off to St Kitts again for the hols - such a bore, but Marcus insisted.”

“Just couldn’t decide between the PS3 or the Wii, so we just got him both.  Anything for a quiet life.”

“Oh yes, the ball.  Hadn’t really given it much thought.  Probably just wear an old Vivien Westwood, I’d imagine.”

“We’ve decided on Eton.  Think boarding is the only way with boys.  The schools are so much better equipped to deal with all that testosterone.  Not healthy to have it around the house, is it?”

Yada, yada.  Blah, blah, blah it went on.

Fenella and I had a fit of the giggles when we overheard Tatiana (the Inn keeper’s mummy) saying she was suing her Polish builders because she firmly believed they’d eaten the carp from her ‘Oriental Water Feature’ (fish pond).

“You know, in the six months they worked in the house, they never once went out to buy food.  Nothing!  And then suddenly I realised that one by one our fish had gone missing.  More than coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”

Had to jab Fenella firmly in the ribs to shut her up but then
I
started up again - it really was most embarrassing and Ned and Josh sat there shaking their heads like we were a couple of naughty schoolgirls. Thankfully the nativity began and everyone quietened down.

Max and Todd did a fantastic job as shepherds - staying fully in character until they spotted us in the third row (shepherds, angels and trees’ parents) and gave us an excited little wave.

All was going swimmingly until ‘Mary’ realised just how many eyes were on her and it all became a bit much.  The lines were forgotten, the baby Jesus dropped unceremoniously on the floor and the tears started.

And boy, did they flow.  Immediate reaction was to think, ‘Oh poor little thing’.  But after a good few minutes of real drama queen theatricals more consistent with having a leg chopped off, it got a bit wearing.  The teachers tried to coax her and calm her down.  Then Mummy was brought onto the stage to placate her but nothing worked. ‘Mary’s’ little feet were stamping, snot was flying and the baby Jesus had been given a few swift kicks.

She was eventually removed from the stage and Gestapo’s Mia took over the role with all the confidence and ice-cold calm of a pro.  Heard Gestapo mumble to the Gnome, “Let that be a lesson to them.  If they’d chosen the best girl for the job in the first place none of that would have happened.”

The remainder passed uneventfully and, predictably, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house as they all finished with ‘Away in a Manger’.  ‘Mary #1’ managed to make it on stage for a bow but was quickly pushed to the back by ‘Mary #2’ - like mother like daughter.

It all got a bit ugly between Gestapo and ‘Mary #1’s’ mother as we were leaving.  ‘Mary #1’s’ said the children were far too young to be put under such pressure and it wasn’t fair on them.  Gestapo retaliated with, “Well you weren’t saying that when she got the part and you were bragging about how
fantastic
she’d be!”  To which ‘Mary #1’s’ mother snapped back, “I’ve
never
bragged in my life.  Anyway, I’d rather have a shy little girl than a precocious brat!” 

Looked like it could escalate to fisticuffs at any minute, with chunks of highlights and acrylics flying.  Tried to coax Ned and Josh away as they were rubber-necking just a bit too much - they don’t get to see as much of the bitching as we do and were making sure they got their money’s worth.  Think it’s the first time I’ve ever heard Ned say, “I don’t want to go for a pub lunch.  What if we miss the best bit?”

Eventually managed to drag them away, with Josh telling Fenella she was “So unfair.  I’m sure they were about to start a full-blown scrap.  I’ve never seen posh girls fight before.”

We assured them there were bound to be plenty of opportunities in the future and next time we’d let them stay until the bitter end.

Ned pushed it a bit too far and asked if we could make sure there was also a bit of mud involved.  Josh smirked like a pubescent teenager and added, “Yeah, and wet t-shirts would be a bonus too!”

Wednesday 10
^th
December  AM

Max breaks up.  Christmas carols and mulled wine.

Can’t believe the kids break up a full two weeks before Christmas - too much time to be driving us mad at home and asking how many more sleeps until Father Christmas comes.  Still got loads I need to do so made sure I spent my last Max-free day productively and cracked on with jobs.

Almost everything done now except:

Get last of Max’s stocking fillers -
managed to get his main presents on eBay and Amazon so saved heaps
.

Thorough cleaning of house -
Two mothers staying are bound to find
somewhere
I haven’t cleaned but serves them right if they go looking for it
.

Get manky fake tree from loft and decide if it will do for another year.

Decorate house -
Max has now made enough paper-chains, stars and fairies to start his own business so it definitely won’t be a case of ‘less is more’ in our house this year
.

Decide what to wear to the ball. 
Eeek!

Plan Ned’s birthday -
next Friday! -
I’ll think about it tomorrow
.

PM

Excellent carol concert, although sadly there wasn’t a ‘Silent Night’ or ‘Good King Wenceslas’ to be heard.  In fact, we didn’t recognise
one
carol on the programme.  Our children had instead learnt the words to such curiosities as ‘Figgy Duff’ and ‘Here We Go A-Wassailing’.  It seemed that the more obscure the carol, the more likely it was to feature.

The mingling and mulled wine part revealed that the music teacher, Mr Dreyfuss, was known for being a bit of a prima-donna and it was a standing joke to see if he’d come up with more oddities to avoid Jingle Bells for another season. To give him his dues though, he’d coached the children well and the service ran smoothly.

I heard ‘Dress-Up Mummy’ (sporting a tartan jumpsuit, complete with bondage straps!) say to another mother, “He’s so
good
with the children, isn’t he?  I just wonder if he’s totally
fulfilled
working with them!  I’m sure he’d be much happier using his talent in the theatre.”

Gestapo added, rather too loudly, “Doesn’t really matter
what
they sing does it?  You put a bunch of kids together and it always sounds like shit.  The best bit’s when it’s over!”  Does the woman have no redeeming features?

Shaaaron commented on my floor length velvet coat and scarf and asked if it was Karen Millen.  Couldn’t tell her it was a car-boot buy so lied and said I’d picked it up in a little boutique in Scotland - God I’m such a snob.  And a lying one too.

Managed to escape fairly early as we couldn’t cope with any more competitive babble - the memorable snippets of the night being:

“Zebedee (
Zebedee?)
wanted to have a stretch limo tour for his birthday but we told him we’re not bloody Chavs, so we’ve booked Soho House for dinner instead.”