The last week at school had a prologue in the school disco the previous Friday. For the first time ever I was volunteering for the parents’ group – to my slight surprise. I had filled in the form that was commenting how they had too many volunteers the last time thinking that there will be plenty of other people. Since I knew I had to accompany Number One Son to be his walking wallet (not really understanding money, yet), I felt it would be impolite not to volunteeer. However, the person selecting is a friend, so there I was, making a choice between the hall and the cloakroom duties. Which brings me to the English language understatements. As a non-mother-tongue speaker, I forgot that the latter is the euphemism for – toilet. There we were, three ladies getting slightly bored waiting for any mishaps in the toilet that never came. Anyway, now I have done some parental participation after mainly being abroad.
The last week at school is one of those times when you child comes back from school with a huge pile of drawings and all kinds of things they have done during the classes. You just do not feel like throwing it away, but there are quite a many piles now from the nursery and the reception class before Year 1. However, it is heart-warming to see the long-term, long-waited progress. The way the drawings are now more than a swirl with a crayon and look like an Angry Bird or dinosaur steps. How from the beginning of Year 1 the letters have gone from unrecognisable hieroglyphs to something that looks like decent handwriting.
I find the sensibilities of how remember the work the teachers do difficult. Since they are public officers, I do not wish to buy huge presents or lots of flowers. However, considering the amount of marking and preparing and reporting they must do on top of trying to keep Number One Sons in reigns, I feel it is appropriate to do something. So we opted for a card. A bought one with an additional drawing Number One Son did glued on to the inside and a line scribed by him. With all our signatures. Then it was only for Number One Son to join the card givers' queue...
So now it is summer. It is the time when one wonders if one should have had Number Two as well. With many children in the seaside, abroad and nurseries, it will be a stretch to entertain a child with a stretched budget - and make sure he has regular playtime with friends and other children. Luckily, the local play scheme is not too dear, so we just hope they have free slots we wanted a couple of times. And I have planned a trip to London – by coach to keep it cheap and land on the right side of the city with the dinosaurs. However, if one will strike lucky and find a job in August, all may change.