Diary of a Mummy Misfit #1 (47 page)

Couldn’t risk removing my boots as I couldn’t remember which socks I had on and my own feet haven’t seen a professional pedicure in their life, so decided the family room was probably my next best bet.

Felt that, at that rate, I’d end up in the garden.  Was breathing allowed in the family room or would it shrink the fabric?

Gestapo was there, sans ‘Rudeman’ who was now of course on his little break, courtesy of our Majesty. She looked like she’d tried to do a home job on her roots and the result was vaguely tortoiseshell - maybe it’s the new Manor House trend and I’m just being bitchy.

Noticed she was knocking back the Laurent Perrier at an alarming speed and laughing rather too loudly as if to say, “Everything is just hunky-dory in my world so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Fenella and I escaped, albeit half way down the road, for an illicit ciggie.  Couldn’t imagine carbon monoxide or ash on Fiona’s herbaceous borders going down too well.

“The further away the better would suit me,” Fenella joked as we lit up.  “God, is it me or are they all a bunch of crashing bores?  If I have to hear one more word about “where the
smart
money is” from the men or gym-versus-personal trainer from the women, I swear I’ll blow a foo-foo valve on her bloody Persian rugs - no red wine in the drawing room?  Are we Philistines?”

The rest of the evening passed in the usual blur.  Was actually relieved to see ‘Letchy Dad’ and have him drool over my tits for ten minutes just to relieve the boredom.

Sad times are these when the highlight of a girl’s evening is being chatted up by the most unattractive man in the room, just because she knows he won’t regale her with figures of his huge bank balance or a room by room description of his villa in Île de Ré.

Rushed home to check lottery results.  Feng Shui not kicked in yet - only had one number but, as I pointed out to Ned, it’s a step in the right direction.

Dreamt I was living in a big FO house and had turned all Mrs Bouquet-ish.  Spanked Fenella for drinking Irn Bru in the drawing room - slightly worrying!

Fenella drinking Irn Bru?

Monday 23
^rd
March  AM

Sushi party after school

Can’t believe the kids break up for Easter on Wednesday.  Where do the terms go?  No sooner have we paid one set of school fees and the next one’s due.

Did a mad early morning dash to Waitrose for the sushi selections - Ned can’t wait for supper tonight as he’s praying the little darlings won’t touch it with a barge pole.

Think he’s looking forward to babysitting the three kids again as it gives him an excuse to ditch the job hunting and get on the Playstation - poor Mario ends up bearing the brunt of all his frustrations.  At least it’s cheaper than therapy.

Went to Fenella’s to go through our checklists and store the sushi.  She sheepishly informed me that she’d just had a phone call from Shaaaron and had
again
volunteered us, this time to organise the Easter egg hunt on Wednesday.  The mum who usually does it has gone into premature labour and Shaaaron has a “fiendishly busy week”.

Set off to a remote industrial estate to buy 1000 miniature eggs made in a nut-free factory (natch).

A mummy misfit just never knows where her day will find her next.

PM

Had delicious dinner of sushi and chilled Möet (a guilt gift from Fenella!) 

Party generally went well, although twenty little girls went home very hungry.

Tuesday 24
^th
March  AM

The weather forecast for tomorrow isn’t particularly spring-like so we ‘Easter bunnies’ have been asked by Hinge & Bracket to hide the eggs inside the school rather than in the gardens.

Will need to get to the school for about 7.30am to ‘lay’ the eggs behind books, under cushions and on shelves - cheers Fenella!

Ned has a rather untimely interview today.  Just as I was getting used to the idea of having him around and, indeed, having a bit of company in the holidays (F&J are off to Italy) he may well return to work.  Suppose I should look on the bright side - wonder if it’s the Feng Shui doing its thing?

PM

Needn’t have worried about losing my hubbie just yet.  Ned was over-qualified for the job and the useless agency shouldn’t have put him forward in the first place.

Lasagne and a couple of glasses of the offie’s cheapest - not quite as glam as last night.

Wednesday 25
^th
March

Never would have imagined it could take quite so long to distribute the eggs - tricky balance between making them too easy to find or virtually impossible.

At 8.30 we simply chucked the remaining eggs into the middle of the last two classrooms - what do the kids care, so long as they get chocolate?

Lovely Easter assembly where we all sang ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’.  Hinge & Bracket talked about the joy of spring and new beginnings.  Think I heard Gestapo ‘harumph’ at this - don’t imagine she’ll be setting off to any exotic locations this holiday either.

Please God don’t let me bump into her on any of my
many
visits to the park - I’m not
that
desperate for company.

And so the end of another term and, if ‘H&B’ are to be believed, the promise of something fresh and lovely.

Definitely feel it’s time for our luck to change and, after all, things can only get better.

DELIVERY

Tuesday 21
^st
April  AM

Summer term starts

Well that was our Easter break then.

Sadly the Feng Shui still hasn’t delivered, so no lottery wins and no job for Ned yet.  Have now named the money tree ‘Fortune’ and talk to it regularly.

The holidays saw us reacquainting ourselves with the park and I’m now on first name terms with the lady in the park café, the toilet cleaner and the mad woman who goes every day to feed the pigeons.  She probably tells people she’s on first name terms with the mad woman who takes her son to the park every day.

Poor Max set off to school this morning, so excited to be going back but probably in for a day of hearing about all the other kids’ international jaunts.

Our Visa took another hammering to cover the school fees and Ned is now making serious noises about approaching CCL.  We’re in the difficult position of knowing we can’t foot the bill for September but things could change at any time.  Trouble is, if they
don’t
change and we
can’t
send Max back, we lose our hefty deposit because we won’t have given a term’s notice.

It all seemed just about manageable this time last year, when we were counting the days to the acceptance letter - just goes to show, you just never know how the tides will turn.

PM

Max home and exhausted but exhilarated from his first day back.

He filled us in on the Seedling’s goss over his pasta and garlic bread.

“Mia went to stay with her granny on a farm because her mummy was very sad without her daddy and Felix went to a country where he could ride camels and I
think
Letitia said she went to America and held a big eagle.”

When asked what he’d revealed in circle time about
his
holidays, he said, “I said it was very interesting because we all seemed to have spent our holidays with animals.  My best fun was feeding the pigeons in the park with my mummy, daddy and Dog & Dot.”

How long will we get away with such simple pleasures?  And have the other kids cottoned on yet?

Boy, I bet the teachers have a laugh in their coffee breaks!

Wednesday 22
^nd
April

Had to give Mrs S a lift to the vet today as Bazzer-the-budgie isn’t well.  He seems to have lost half his feathers and she’s had an attempt at knitting him a jumper with wing holes.  Sadly it looks more like a ventilated willy warmer.  Wonder if Gestapo’s pet clothes outlet does budgie boleros?

Anyway, Bazzer is possibly suffering from stress (know the feeling, Baz) and needs to go back next week for more tests which will cost Mrs S a ridiculous amount of money but she says he’s worth it.  Dread to think what she’ll be like if anything happens to him - don’t think she’s the type who would happily accept a replacement.  Might need to email Pritesh or perhaps discuss with Skunk - probably the safer option.

Max received an invite to the Gnome’s daughter’s party next month.  Thankfully neither Max or Todd are very keen on Ophelia so they’ve decided they don’t want to go.  Fenella and I were both having kittens - it’s an
unsupervised
treasure hunt around the local common!

Who in their right mind would let their five-year olds roam, on their own, on a London common?  Surely we weren’t the only ones with reservations?  It’ll be interesting to hear who’ll actually let their children go.

Today I heard the Gnome telling Gestapo about her plans for the party, “Oh it’s terribly safe on that part of the common and we’ll give them very clear maps.  All they have to do is set off in the direction we point them, in groups of course, hunt treasure for an hour or so and then meet me back at the café for tea.  Fantastically easy party and it gives the kids a taste of freedom, don’t you think?”

Can’t say I was surprised to hear Gestapo and also ‘Dress Up Mummy,’ who had now joined them (in a cow hide mini skirt), agreeing enthusiastically.  “Oh yah,” Gestapo gushed, “I’ve actually started to let Mia go to the local shop for me.  So important to encourage their independence and it’s never too early to start.”

“Frankly, I can’t wait until they can get themselves to school,” ‘Dress Up Mummy’, added.  “Such a frightful bore having to get oneself out of bed on the nanny’s day off.”

Must remember to let Max have a fag and a glass of wine tonight. 
So
European!
 
I’m clearly holding back his development and failing to encourage the little adult in him.

Thursday 23
^rd
April

Met Fenella in the park café for coffee - no Starbucks option for us any more after Potty-Gate.

She said that Shaaaron called her last night and asked if we’d like to do the Christmas fair again this year.  “Think she only calls me because she knows I usually say yes but you’d have been proud of me, Lib.  I put my foot down with a firm but freshly manicured hand and said that we most definitely would not.  I could hear the panic in her voice because she knows if she can’t get anyone else to do it,
she’ll
have to and, of course, she’s …”

“…‘
fiendishly busy’
” we both giggled.

Moved on to discuss a couple of emails we’d had for some possible bookings - not huge money-spinners but enough to keep the wolf from the door.

One was a sit down four-course dinner for a dozen eleven year olds - black tie and ball gowns, of course.  Figured we could prepare all the food beforehand and leave it to the nanny to reheat (Mummy would be in Bruges on business, although rumour has it she’s conducting a long-term affair with a London cabbie and is often ‘on business’).  ‘Naughty Mummy’ had also asked if we could set a ‘sumptuous and elegant table’ in burgundy and gold.  Daughter Ella-Louise has some very definite ideas about entertaining.

Decided it was an easy enough job to take on so agreed on an overdue trip to the Pound Shop tomorrow.  “The
best
place for bargain candles,” according to Fenella.

The second email was from a mum higher up in the school who’s so well known for going under the knife, her husband complains she now looks nothing like the woman he married.

Anyway, ‘Tummy Mummy’ wanted us to organise a baby-shower (ridiculous American idea) for one of the teachers.  All a bit complicated as we don’t really know the teacher and felt that it really should be organised by friends and family.  Reluctantly decided we would have to turn it down.

“I hear she’s a bit of an old bag anyway, so we’d probably have ended up with as much trouble as we had with ‘Scammy Mummy’”, Fenella revealed as she packed away her file.  “Golly, isn’t your sister’s baby due soon?  Hope
you’re
not doing the whole naff baby shower thing?  After I’d had Todd, my sister-in-law, somewhat misguidedly, organised a sex toy party.  It brought tears to the eyes, I can tell you!”

Told Fenella I definitely wasn’t organising anything and shamefully admitted that I’d given very little thought to the imminent birth. 

Asked her if she thought it exposed an underlying jealousy or was I, perhaps, in denial?

“Don’t talk such rot!  Have you been at the Freud again?  You simply have a life of your own and haven’t had time to dwell on the squealing, nappy-filling monster your sister’s about to bring into this world.  Remember, we don’t want any more babies, Libby.  Just play the doting auntie and relish that you can always babysit and hand the baby back.”

Nodded in agreement but silently felt there was still something lacking in my life.

Friday 24
^th
April  AM

Attacked the Pound Shop with Fenella.  Goodness, she’s like a whirling dervish when she gets in there.  No bog cleaner, kitchen roll or tube of KY jelly escapes her eager eye.  No pensioner is safe as she barges from shelf to shelf in a manner I would imagine she’s acquired from the first-day jostle of the Harrods sale.

Came away with fantastic burgundy and gold candles,
proper
fabric napkins and some stunning gold foliage for Ella-Louise’s dinner party.

“Imagine the mark up we can make on this lot”, Fenella enthused as she packed her own bounty into the car - kitchen scissors, dog biscuits, fabric softener and 200 pads of yellow post-it-notes.  “Can’t imagine how I survived in my pre-Pound-Shop days!  You were truly sent from heaven to guide me to its doors.”

Fenella’s about the only person I know who could wax lyrical about the Pound Shop.

PM

To Nic & Rick’s tonight so Mum and Bert arrived to babysit at about seven.

This time Bert was clutching the ‘Last Tango in Paris’ DVD in his hand.

Wonder if he’s trying to spark Mum’s interest in shenanigans?  Shall be checking the fridge later for butter supply.

Saturday 25
^th
April

Bless Nic & Rick.  They were so sweet last night and said that they’d be more than happy to help us out with the September fees if we’re stuck.

We both thanked them profusely (me crying quite a bit) and said that we really couldn’t take them up on their offer.  In fact, we’ve finally decided to approach Hinge & Bracket and find out if any help can be made available to us.

Not looking forward to our meeting with them next Friday but am consoling myself that there’s a lottery draw tonight and another next Wednesday.

Also, Nic gave me a book on ‘Cosmic Ordering’ so I now spend a great deal of time chatting to the Cosmos and placing my polite requests - a bit like a mail order catalogue but on a grander scale and nobody sticks you on hold on a premium rate line.