I decided to get out amongst the humans this week. I figured that working from home for this long can’t be good for me, I think I haven’t worn a skirt for around six months, haven’t needed to. My fashion sense has taken a nose dive, but then again have you seen fashion lately? I don’t think I’m doing that bad really. My people skills are dropping though, if I were to have an office job I’d have to stick a post it note on my desk where I can see it all the time that says: Don’t fart at your desk, you are not alone!
Side topic; when will this hideous left over from the eighties, with a hint of the awkward nineties, flouro pattern splooge fest end?! Us red heads are running out of things to wear! Yes I digress.
So anyways, I went out to meet some humans, having decided to volunteer my time to the gallery that will soon be showing some of my pictures (giggity). Yesterday was my first shift. Sure enough the phone rings at midday, and it’s the school. Insert your choice of annoyed looking emoticon here if you will. Of course it’s the school, it has to be the school, because children are born with this sixth sense that informs them when the mother is about to do something for her own wellbeing. A little alarm rings in the back of their mind ‘quick mum is about do something different, you need in on this’. So I make my excuses, leaving a great first impression on my first day and head to the school.
When the teacher called she mentions that she also needs to have a quick chat with me, and I think we all know how much every parent loves to hear that, am I right? Tells me our town cryer has been unwell today. Can you tell I’m not convinced? Back story, the small ones have discovered that all you have to do to get out of class is make the slightest mention you feel sick. The second those words are uttered a call is put into Mum, drop what you are doing parents the kid is totes dying.
I get there, and I have the chat. Turns out it was a surprisingly good one, for once there was nothing bad to report. Enter the sick bay, because the small dying one was not that sick he couldn’t wait while I had that brief parent teacher interview. He greets me and attempts to conceal a smile, he did not succeed. The average for one of these calls from the school is about once a fortnight, and you should hear how hard the teachers try to convince me it is legit. I take the boy by the hand as he skips out the school gate; “Are we going to the shops now?” ahhh no. Again feel free to add your choice of annoyed emoticon here.
Have you ever encountered this? That road block in the shape of a small child each time you attempt to return to some kind of semblance of your previous professional life? Or is just me that has a big faker in the house?
Of course I know this is what I signed up for when I resigned from my much loved job five years ago, and don’t get me wrong I love that I am able to be at home with the kids, and do all that needs doing for my high need charges. It is a super busy life that we lead, but that said, it is super busy and super boring. Mundane even, and I’m not the first one to say that about this parenting deal.
Mum is bored kids, and she needs to get out more. Trust me it is better for everyone 😉
Anywho, onwards and upwards right guys? Next month people will be paying me to take their pictures, and so help me if the school calls, it had better be from the back of the ambulance.