today’s conversation
ronnie : mummy, am I a man?
HPMcQ : no ronnie not yet, when you grow up
ronnie : mummy, am I nearly a man?
HPMcQ : no, not for quite some time still
ronnie : but mummy I just did a man size poo so I must be a man
so there you go
wow, so ronnie is nearly four. FOUR I SAY. which means he is a big boy, a big boy who is off to pre-school in just a little over three weeks time.
earlier in the week i had a moment when his school shoes arrived. today the moment was even bigger as we went to buy the rest of his uniform. his first school uniform. too cute for words. most of it is enormous, as age 4 clothes are huge on ronnie, (the shorts he is wearing today are age 1 1/2 – 2) he is a weeny chap. not so much in height but not an ounce of fat on him, just like his daddy, mr HPMcQ. he was fairly good in the school outfitters, a little overwhelmed by it all, as were we when we got our bill! they have aprons to eat their lunch so they don’t soil (god i love that word) their uniforms!
next step wash the lot and sew in all the name labels, joy. then the final test comes as in two weeks time i think we may have to get his hair cut shorter. i’m not happy about this. i have no idea why it is so important that boys hair needs to be above the collar. does it hinder their learning? i think not. girls hair doesn’t have to be, so why boys? so once everythng is ready, i will put his polo shirt on and see were it all hangs to, then there maybe sadness as the scissors go snip snip snip. i can’t bear it, hence why i’m putting it off to the last moment. it’s so unnecessary.
however i have made a plan to endeavour to get onto the board of govenors and change this silly rule. you watch me!
so the last 24 hours have been rather random. yesterday i was mostly in and out of being in the complete dark whilst trying to develop product for AW13. luckily i had been clever enough and packed a torch.
this was in delhi. five and half thousand miles from home.
i then hopped on a plane for eight and half hours. slept a very uncomfortable sleep and then the car didn’t turn up at the airport to pick us up, so we had to wait for another to be sent. joy o joy.
came home, unpacked and put the washing on. had a lovely lovely bath in clear not brown water, and then i was off to nursery to attend ronnies graduation. i know, that’s right, yes i said graduation. he is three about to turn four, and off to pre-school in september. so they held a graduation.
as you can imagine i was desperate to see him. even though skype and face time are marvelous things, it’s not quite the same is it. you just don’t get to sniff and squeeze. so i bounded off with excitement. when i arrived at the nursery all the children were sitting quietly in front of the rows parents. ronnie clocked me immediately, the joy in his voice was overwhelming and i burst into tears. “my mummy!” we had the longest hugs and many many kisses. problem was, that i think i spoilt his graduation. because that was it, he didn’t want to go back to the other where children were, he just wasn’t interested anymore. he just wanted to stay with me. “mummy are staying here all day?” my heart broke. he thought i would leave again.
in the meantime the children all sang their abc, twinkle twinkle little star and the graduation song they had written. they then all performed a dance they had prepared with an instructor. all very lovely. however, all the time ronnie was firmly on my lap and most definitely wouldn’t join in, but just clung to me.
the children all trotted off to the back room, the only way ronnie would go was if was with him. they had made sweet little mortar boards out of card. they all walked back into the room in single file apart from ronnie and sonny who both had a parent with them. one by one as their names were called out they went up to collect their certificates and have their photos taken. ronnie was firmly on my lap and wasn’t about to move anywhere. i can’t help but think i ruined the day for him, and that he would have had so much more fun if i wasn’t there.
but how could i not be there for his first graduation? how could i not see him now that i was back from my travels? is that greedy of me?
i’m a graduee
are you proud of me
i now know my numbers and my abc
i am big and strong
so off to school i go
to learn lots more
and have some fun
my good lord above in 6 months time
ronnie will be going to school
no longer my baby, my toddler, my pre-schooler
this will make him a really big boy
i imagine it will see oliver and i reduced to tears
all dressed up in his grey shorts and purple blazer
where on earth have the last 3 and a half years gone
first there was a tiny little baby
and 35 hours of labour
then came the sleepless nights
tendless feeding and nappy changing
countless poo-mergencies
where everything was literally covered in shite
upchucking into my bra, poohing in my lap
and peeing on his own face
sleeping all the way through the night
giving mummy and daddy some nap time
there were ambulances
swine flu, croup and a harrowing fall down the stairs
a sudden appearance in the kitchen when we thought he couldn’t move
his first words
his first haircut
his first steps, his first pair of converse
his first christmas
our first family holiday
shamelessly flirting with all the air hostesses
swimming in the sea and digging in the black sand
falling off his scooter
to the mastering the brake and turning the corner
using the grown up toilet and those tiny little pants
out of the cot and into his big boy bed
and the first time he said night mummy i love you
boy approximate age 11, to a girl of similar age, wearing a rather dangerously short skirt eating a portion of chips
boy : you just don’t understand how painful it is not to have a girlfriend
jeez he has a lot coming his way
this subject seems to keeping popping its little head up a lot recently with friends, family and workies. today a very old (not old in age, but time) friend of mine, one from primary school, emailed me to ask if i remembered mrs lang one of our primary school teachers. of course i do she was probably one of the first people in my life outside of family to make such a huge impact in the way i was going to grow up and be. so i thought i would take some time to reflect on who in my life has made me the way i am, just so you know.
mrs lang
she was our second teacher at primary school our first being mrs macarthy. there was something rather special about mrs lang, i couldn’t tell you exactly what it was, but she completely engaged me at such a very young age. she was calm and gentile, but also authoritative. she allowed you to be yourself rather than stifle any imagination, but kept you inline. she had the most amazing calligraphic writing, i wanted to write like her so much. i remember asking my parents to get me special pens so i could write just like her. if you look at my writing today you can see the definite influence from mrs lang in the way i write. she taught me to always take pride in how i presented my work.
she played the piano and every assembly she would flawlessly tap out tunes, of the catholic variety. as soon as my tiny fingers would allow me to play i started piano lessons, i wanted to play just like mrs lang. in the meantime though i played the recorder so that i could at least play in the group with her. this carried on to tenor then the saxophone.
her creatively and musicality completely captured me. it showed me a way of expressing myself in completely different ways, something that has always stayed with me.
when we had to move up to the next year, i cried and cried. i didn’t want to leave her class, i couldn’t bear it, so they let me stay just one more day.
grandad tony
my dad the carpenter. as a grew up as a child he was always building and making things for the home. he was a perfectionist. he was strict but he was fair. he wasn’t one to get on the wrong side of put it that way.
he was always the one to go and get answers from. if he didn’t know something he would always find out the absolute detail and get back to you, he wouldn’t leave it until he knew the answer. he doesn’t like not knowing something. he taught me to learn about something and to learn it well. to do something properly and do it with pride. he taught me to be proud of myself.
he encouraged me to be creative and built me the most amazing desk come easel so that i could spend hours painting and drawing.
nanny leyla
my mum. she was a grafter and a tough cookie. she worked in the city of london for many years. she worked in banking, at a time when there weren’t many women working at the level she was at. at work she wasn’t a fool to be messed with, she gave all the men a run for their money and she was hugely successful because of that.
at home she was softer and bonkers. her chaotic funny side came out as she left the world of banking behind her. she would spend hours in her shed at the end of the garden on her potter’s wheel making rather strange-looking objects. fabulous strangeness of course.
her spanglish was at times pants wetting funny.
when everyone else thought a degree in weaving was slightly odd she pushed me to succeed all the way.
she taught me to work hard to get the things i want i life. she taught me to do what i wanted to do and to never settle for second best.