Why Can't I be the Glamorous Mummy at Drop Off??

So, it is drop off time on a Tuesday. This means that both children are in their respective nurseries, which happens to be practically at each end of the island. It is a crazy rush getting ready with the usual demands; however, we manage to leave the house pretty close to deadline time. 

We are on the way in the car and Felicity tells me that she wants to go shopping after ‘School’. Now I am not sure if it just me that does this but there is a long pause before I respond as I am thinking of a way to say we don’t need to go shopping without causing a huge melt down… By this time she has repeated her request several times and each time it has progressively got more demanding but even more impressive, it has become very polite! Felicity has realised that if she asks for something in a super nice manner then it is more likely to happen. Now she has taken this to the next level… for example, “Mummy, please may I have chocolate cake?”, “Mummy, please may I have a mashem toy?”, “Mummy, please may I not have a seat belt on?”, “Mummy, please may I poke Edward?”. I avoid eruption with the old faithful, “We will see”.

We get to Edwards nursery and there is what I like to call a ‘Lingerer’… A mother who’s baby is perfectly happy and ready to get stuck into nursery, yet the parent wishes to continuously emphasis the fact that she is leaving her for a few hours. A huge production of good-byes and extravagant kiss blowing unfolds. Meanwhile, I’m edging further and further in the door and manage to say to Edward’s Key Worker, “Edward is having a good day. He hasn’t done a poo but I am sure he will shortly. See you later little buddy, love you!” and dash out with Felicity.

We run to the car and as we are driving away from Edward’s nursery she calmly states, “Mummy, I need a wee now.” Whaaaaattttt the actual Flip! I would usually U-Turn and run her into the nursery, however, today there is some sort of police check and I cannot go back so I encouragingly ask her to hold it and tell her how amazing she is (please note that she did go to the loo just before we left the house and we have only travelled for 20 minutes so I know I have time).

We are now 5 minutes from Felicity’s ‘school’ (for clarification; it is nursery, however, she calls it school because they have a uniform, classes and it is where she will go to school when she is older) and we are stuck behind a bus. Now when you live on the mainland, you sometimes moan about the fact that buses go quite slow and stop to collect people. In Jersey there is a different issue…many of the back roads are literally not wide enough for two-way traffic at the best of times, throw a bus in the mix and you have no hope of making it along an entire road without a constant stop-start routine throughout. I am thinking to myself, who are these people that bus around anywhere here? They must have to allow freaking hours for any journey! I can barely stick to a 20 minute travel time target.

I am quickly running out of trivial conversation and distractions for Felicity and she is not completely buying my, “We are nearly there, just around the corner” statement.

We make it into the school grounds and I struggle to keep my foot steady on the accelerator in the 15mph zone. I am starting to sweat at the thought of a wee accident and having to change her in front of all of the other parents in the back of the car like I have seen so many times before with others. I have a new respect for them as I always used to think, how do they leave for school and pee before they get there?? This is how!!

It seems there are no parking spots free as I am now slightly past the drop off time, then I spy a space right outside the main door, in front of the building… I indicate, pull forward and then reverse… There is a mother behind me who is literally having her entire brood wandering in front of her car, directly behind mine. She can clearly see I am trying to park. How come I am the one getting the disapproving looks from other parents? I feel like shouting, “Hey, you’re clearly late too. Don’t judge me! Its her fault!” Instead I throw my shoulders up and apologise pathetically. Finally parked I grab Felicity and begin to speed walk towards the nursery area… Other people manage to walk fast without the look of discomfort on their face. Other people manage to throw swagger into any walk. Not me. No capacity for any elegance here, just determination and movement towards my destination. The Headmaster sees me, “Oh that looks like a mission walk?” he laughs in his familiar Irish accent. How do I respond? “She needs a pee-pee”. Seriously! Why did I just say that!!! Why didn’t I say, “We need the washroom”, “We’re running late”, “I’ve got to be somewhere”. Anything other than use the term ‘pee-pee’! 

Then I trip! Unfortunately, rather than just a simple trip and get back up, my trip is probably the worse trip ever. Its that one where you do manage to recover, however, to reach recovery several things have to happen; your face has to contort and your chin meets your chest, your arms fly around and you whack the brick wall, you let out a weird sound (you know, to attract the attention of anyone that didn’t happen to notice) and your shoe half comes off, which means you have to stop to jiggle your foot around, thus prolonging the embarrassment. My one-hairgrip quiff, which I stupidly believed would see me through drop offs is now all floppy and I am a far cry from all of these glamorous, yoga-pant wearing, fully made up ladies, some of whom wear their absolutely stunning handbags to drop off…not sure what they are taking into school that I don’t other than a whole load of self-assurance?!?

We run into the room. I announce again that she needs to pee and we rush into the toilet area. After careful toilet selection, we went for the pink fish with two flushes prior to her wee (I told you I had time to play with!).

Drop off is done. Now I am off home to do meal prep for the next couple of days! Oh how my life has changed!