Well, I have never made a chicken pump before. But tonight I did just exactly that. She was apparently sh*t scared, literally, as I picked her firmly up to put her in her bed for the night, which is like wrestling a crocodile at the best of times, believe me. Nasty weapon of defence though, a pump. Rough.
Well, I’ve had a hectic few days, doing things like walking out of the supermarket, making youths chase after me yelling ‘Madame! Madame!’ and panting in the effort as I finally get they’re yelling me. Turns out as I reach the car and he hunts me down, I had forgotten both my car keys and Mitzi’s school report at the till…
Of late, I have matured, I think. With 8 moves in 9 years together, Alex and I have finally found somewhere we want to grow our roots for a bit, so to speak. I feel like a proper fully fledged grown up, we are settled, and love the community and it’s nice to think we’re staying put for a good while to come. I read the ‘classes for next year’ lists, and was thoroughly happy! The teachers I had
begged asked to take my kids have done so! Brill! I was also offered a job, in real life! The woman (who’ll be my new boss), said she was delighted to have met me, and I was perfect for the job! In all honesty, I am perfect, but only coz I am English! It’s working 2 evenings a week with kids/teenagers/grown ups from all over, teaching them english. So I basically got the job on the basis of my nationality, but there you go, I got a job!! I am really excited about it, it’s fully manageable with the kids/animals/school hours/life in general, I can squeeze it in, and it’s just down the road.
|Lola on her new birthday bike-and loving it!! Sure there'll be plenty of this this summer...*anything to tire them out*|
Tomorrow is the last time I will be picking up the kids from school, the summer hols are apon us! It’s always a mixture of emtions for me, loads of excitement, looking forward to less morning pressure, well, not having to be out the door by 8 with 4 washed, clean, dressed, breakfasted kids and a dog, was never on my ‘what do you want to be when you grow up’ list. Everyone seems in good spirits, and there’s 2 whole months of holidays-
hell bliss. For some reason it’s also a melancholy time of year and not just because I haven’t managed to fashion a giant cgae to house them in over the holidays. Nor the fact that my washing machine is still broken, and I have done several loads, other than some that go to the laundrette, by hand (every time I feel like I am a ‘Little Women’…), nor the fact that I will have to cook INSANE amounts, clean INSANE amounts and entertain INSANE amounts, it’s melancholy because, yet again, we have finished another school year. Lola goes into ‘CP’ in September, big school over here, like junior school. Esmie even starts mini-school, Ecole Maternelle. Although I will put her in as necessary, as she’s my last, and she’s still tiny! But that’s it, another school year, raced by, before we’ve even stopped to wipe our ars*e. it makes me feel dizzy. I can’t slow the time down, they grow so quickly-where’s that effing Time Machine man?
Esmie walks out of her new school, we have just been and survived the showing round school evening. She looks up at me, ‘Mummy, my new Maitress is super lovely, I am very happy. I am happy for my new big girl school and big girl bed.’ Just like that. It was one of the cutest moments I had ever lived, and I’ve lived to see a few…! The school open evening went fairly well, in that Esmie did not smack her new teacher in the face or anything and well, there was the entrance I made… most unfortunate incident to precedent it. I stroll in, 4 kids in tow, explaining to Esmie this is her new school she’ll be coming to next year. I am out of nowhere, cornered by a ‘Mummy’, she asks me how I am and what do I think of the bilingual class then? (please see blog bellow to catch up with the news) whereupon I launch into a strong against it stance, using words such as ‘ridiculous’ ‘unbelievable’ ‘ridiculous’ again, no way hosea was I thinking of changing classes, thoroughly offensive. Waiting for her to pat me on the back in agreement, she looks bemused, curls her lip and says she is all for it, how the kids would be geniuses, not mine, coz being bilingual from a young age was such an advantage for them, making them more intelligent, capable of doing maths (yeah yeah) etc etc…whereupon I point out that in fact mine are in fact doing exactly that, they are English going to French schools in France…she looked p*ssed, and walked off. Oops. Note to self *next time hold forked tongue*…
Right I am off…I am all a kimbo here, I am going on Monty’s end of year school trip tomorrow with Ezza, and I can’t wait! Thankfully, this time I have remembered-oh sh*t, pic nics!…off to make pic nics at 10 pm now, see you all tomorrow!