The Egg is Already Broken – Week Two Mum Solo*

Well she didn’t win the Easter Bonnet competition at the KS1 Easter Disco.  The disco  that  does its very best to recreates Hell on Earth.  Walking into the School Hall  is an assault to every sense.   Normally it is scene of assemblies and children sat neatly in rows whilst a class shows their work and speaks in gentle, slightly hesitant voices.  Now you are temporarily deafened, blinded and crashed into by a sensatory deprived, sugar overloaded  wannabe  Clark Kent doing all the actions to the Superman song.    Every time and then immediately  I always think why did I rush away from work on the dot of 5?  I could have worked late and missed all of this.  Especially when the Silly Brothers play exactly the same songs in the same order, with the same actions.  I don’t know how they stand it.  I can’t cope with it three times a year.

N is dancing away, Easter Bonnet proudly on display.  A quick scan around, there are not too many other bonnets, she might actually be in with a chance.  But after the limbo and the unclean version of Blurred Lines (is it  an appropriate song  to play at a disco aimed at the Under 8s?  Blurred Lines indeed.  Even N said mummy there are swear words in this) it was the competition.  They all lined up and would you believe it the winning hat was whipped out at the last moment and yes guess what.  Won again.  It was all too much for N,  there were tears.  Quite a lot of tears unfortunately and rather surprisingly.  Tears that only a packet of Ready Salted crisps and a 10 p chew could assuage.  I had never been so grateful to hear the opening strains of McFly’s “It’s all about you.”  The sonic cue all parents have been waiting for.  You could feel the sigh of collective relief.   The  finishing line was in sight, only the foam  to endure  and we would be out of there.  As I watched the children dancing ecstatically, arms aloft in the white bubbles I wonder what my younger Ibizan going  self would make of the scene.  That those early Foam Parties that were so symbolic of hedonism on the White Isle would have end up on suburban toddlers and tweenies jumping up up and down covered in the stuff once a term.

A lovely friend had recommended a Tour De France motif for the hat this year.  Which was genius and we tried but we hadn’t left ourselves enough time after decorating the egg.   Yes a job that normally Paul would have helped with the kids.  Last year they did Shegglock Holmes (complete with mini pipe.. how is that even possible?) and Jeggward.    I am not artistic.  My art teacher, Mr Dowell said very archly I would be no loss to the art world when I told him I was not doing Art O’level.  In fact when I reread his comments on my report a couple of years ago they were so horrible they made me cry!.    So helping Nina create an egg to take to school for the Barnardos’ challenge was making me quite nervous and making me feel very Mum Solo*.  Of course I needn’t have worried.  Nina did it all herself and it was really rather lovely

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Next morning Jessie Jegg was still standing.  It was a miracle.  We just had to get her to school and displayed.   N was allowed into to office and plonked Jessie right in the middle of the table.  Instantly  I saw  the problem.  We were balancing an egg on top of a loo roll covered in glitterly card, on top of an upturned Chinese takeaway box covered in tissue.  What could possibly go wrong?  I tried to influence N into placing Jessie Jegg in another safer more protected spot.  She was having none of it.  So there Jessie Jegg stood, proud as punch in the middle, looking as vulnerable as images of the Twin Towers look to me now when I see photos of them still standing in Lower Manhattan pre 9/11.

I had to get to work, so I had to leave, full of anxiety that Jessie Jegg wouldn’t last 5 minutes.  Arrgghh.. but then I remembered watching The Middle ( a  US comedy portraying the day to day of family life.  It is very funny and unnervingly accurate, click on the link above to watch a clip).  Well Brick the youngest child suffers from anxiety and after being plagued one episode with a raft of irrational fears he find solace in the Buddhist philosophy that (in his case) the vase was already broken.  Accepting that the vase would eventually break one day  allowed him to enjoy it now, freeing  him of the obsessive worries of keeping it safe and protected from damage.   Well it made perfect sense to me too.  I just imagined that Jessie Jegg was like Humpty Dumpty (hey that could be great idea for next year!) and instantly I felt better.

When I got to the Disco, Jessie Jegg had actually made it through in one piece, hurray, but N didn’t win that competition either.  Boo!  Still it is all about the taking part that counts isn’t it? I am already getting the hang of thinking like the Dalai Lama.  Very Zen.

 

Smooth Radio have aired a TV commercial and I thought some of you might like to see it.     Just to give you an idea who Paul works for now.  Oh and for some of you there is the big attraction of a certain smoothie,  Mr Buble.

 

*Monday to Friday

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