I do not do socialising with other mothers. If I walk the children to or from school, I don’t usually go in. I prefer not to walk them to and from school at all, which was lovely last year as Rhubarb was old enough to accompany Poss on his own. I hardly ever had to brave the scary cliquey school mothers. Not only are the school mothers scary but they are about as interesting as dry weetbix.
I do not fit in, I don’t care to try. I’ve always said that I do not wish to form friendships with people on the basis that we both have children and I hold to this. I am not involved in the school generally, I am involved in my childrens’ schooling, I know what’s going on and will attend the mind-numbing assemblies and performances as need be, but I just am not that Mum. I think it’s my automatic need to be different from my own mother, who belonged to every committee the school could throw at her, and was false and shallow and boring.
I have hoped, over the years, that this doesn’t impact upon the children too much. They make friends and see their friends and I am chatty and have even been known to invite parents in for a cup of tea when required.
This year, Beefcake has assured me that Poss is old enough to walk to and from school alone. I was very reluctant, you will remember that this is the girl who last year collected urine soaked knitted toys on her journey home, and she was accompanied then! Although I may have let Rhubarb at the same age, she just doesn’t seem ready. He convinced me that she will be very annoyed if I try to baby her and insist on walking with her to and from school, I have been letting her. It is a very short walk and she has been very excited each morning.
This evening she asked if it would be possible for her to organise playdates over the phone from school in the afternoon. Cue me feeling like a complete and utter failure as a mother. Poss watches all of her friends arranging playdates with their mothers, who are there to collect them, directly after school. Oooh and guess what she said, go on, guess? “Maybe you could make some friends with the other mothers”. Okay. Devastated.
So say hello to the new me. You’ll find me hanging around the schoolyard cheerfully being bored into a semi-comatose state by all of the kiddy small talk. Ah, we do what we must, I suppose.