It’s all around in September- the new school year. New teachers, new classes, a new school. Long days, bus journeys, big bags, homework diaries and reading records. Backing books. Trying to find arty type pencils. A daily list of things for parents to do/ buy. “Oh, I brought this note home last week- did you see it?” “Did it come out of your bag?” “No…” Teachers remembering names.
I had my annual September slump yesterday. (At least, I’m hoping that’s the end of it.) It’s that moment of “everyone’s getting on and making progress and here I am not able to go back to work yet…” What was different yesterday was that, even in the midst of the wallow, I knew I had made progress since last year. I regularly have reason to leave the house, my clothes are a smaller size, and the voluntary work enagages the few remaining brain cells. Blogging keeps me sane. I’m doing grand. Nothing is perfect- my weight ‘loss’ is very offabit-onabit, but that’s because my motivation only comes in short bursts. I have to learn perserverance. And that bread is evil.
But last night, in the midst of exhausted, grumpy girls, they got to take my education in hand. It was time to teach me which members of One Direction are which.
“Right, I know which one’s Harry. I don’t like him.”
“Ok, blond one, cheekbones one, horrible one, forgettable one- wait, who’s that one singing now?”
“Which one is Gary?”
As they lept about stage I was shouting out names: Harry, Fred, Jason, Jimmy, Cheekbones, Jake. Not all of these were correct.
“Which one is Liam?” “The one with the messy hair.”
They all have messy hair.
“Ok, I’m getting there… Which one is on your bedroom wall?”
“Mummy, they’re all on my wall.”
We may be some time.