I need a PA. I have ballsed up one too many times this week meaning that the house is full of sighs and slowly shaking heads. The balls that are usually juggled with vary degrees of efficiency have adopted a random and unpredictable trajectory bouncing off the walls at all angles. Only a highly trained Ninja would have any hope of catching them all. So, I have reached the conclusion that I need a PA.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness… we had everything before us, we had nothing before us”
Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
School holidays are rather like football matches: a game of two halves that is, not full of sweaty over-paid man boys. One half is invariably packed full of action with excitement at every turn, whilst the other is full of dull, but strategically vital, defensive work. Sometimes though, just sometimes it all comes together in a game that is thrilling from beginning to end with a team that works together to produce magic.
Last year, when high on the emotion of our prodigal return to the UK, I agreed to go on a week’s holiday with my brother, and his family, and my parents. Self Catering. In Devon. All together. One big happy family!
We have just returned from this ‘holiday’ happily in one piece and even more remarkably we are all still speaking to each other. How did we manage this amazing feat? Well, let me tell you…
As a parent, in fact as a human being, we get to wear a lot of different hats in our lives. I don’t mean actual hats of course but, oh crappit, the latest hat that I find myself wearing is one that I never, ever, in my wildest nightmares thought that I would ever, EVER wear.
I appear to have volunteered (yes I have brought it on myself people) to be the Chair of the school PTA. Shit (sorry but these desperate times demand the use of an expletive, apologies). Continue reading “Not a PTA Mum?”
Finally, I have found the photo I referenced in a previous post (Clothkits Fundraiser). My memory was a little off what with it being my fifth and not sixth birthday, and the outfit actually being a skirt and waistcoat combo (this was 1981 in deepest Somerset after all). But it was my best birthday cake EVER and one of my most favourite childhood outfits.