Diary of a Mummy Misfit #1 (9 page)

Will my trusty ‘Moist Muffins’ want to conform, I wonder?  Worried they may be under more scrutiny without their Cath Kidston guise.

Beg for raffle prizes. 
Only excellent quality
.  Need at least 20 or tickets won’t sell. Once list of prizes is complete (preferably by end of September) send a book of tickets with prize list to all pupils and teachers.  Full books can be purchased for £10 - no part books.

More letters!

Decide on fund raising idea.  It is the duty of the Fair organisers to initiate a ‘one off’ scheme to raise additional funds for CCL (‘Changing Children’s Lives’) our educational trust, which allows one bright child a year to join the school whose parents would otherwise be unable to meet the fees.  Expected target for profit in the region of one term’s school fees.

Holy cow!  How are we ever going to manage that with everything else we have going on?  And how do I keep the educational trust a secret from Ned? - he’ll be applying before you can say, ‘Invoice paid’.

Book delivery of Christmas tree - must be non-drop, minimum of 4 metres and from sustainable source.  Decorate.  Also decorate school hall and entrance area.

They have the bloody cheek to be worried about sustainable sources when they expect us to send out all those letters?  I’ve already counted one tree that’s met its maker for this fair already.  At least they’re happy with regulation green.

Draw up rota for miscellaneous help.  i.e:  Greeters to take entrance fee on door (£5 per family),  Friday set-up, Saturday clear up, raffle sellers, cashing up counters, fire marshals, first aiders, and lost child office.

“And Uncle Tom Cobbleigh an’ all,” Fenella tittered when we finally came to the end.

After our second bottle we became a little bit giggly about the ludicrousness of the whole thing and Ned and Josh returned from the pub to find us drunkenly planning a lap dancing night as our ‘original fund raiser’. 

Think we were both still slightly in shock but at least we’d been through the files and knew what we were dealing with.

Abandoned the lap dancing idea (despite much coaxing from Ned & Josh - although I think they were secretly holding on to the image) and decided we’d sleep on it.

Tomorrow is another day in the life of Christmas Fair organisers.

Sunday 8
^th
June

Yesterday passed in a hung-over blur from X’mas fair X’cesses on Friday night - just about managed to take Max to the park and then the cinema so I could have a sleep.

Today, went to Mum’s for lunch.

Sucking more Rennies before bed.

Monday 9
^th
June AM

Bloody puppies driving me mad.  They appear to be everywhere, but mainly under my feet.  They’re very cute though and I’ll be sad when they have to go.

Settled down to try to book some
quality
stalls.  They weren’t wrong when they said all the good ones got booked early. Eventually managed to book a fancy schmancy portrait photographer - book on the day for a sitting next year and you get 10% off (reducing it from extortionate to merely exorbitant) your ultra trendy black and white shots of your angelic looking kids.  The school gets a further 10% on all bookings and she offered a sitting as a raffle prize.  Add to list.

Also booked a jeweller selling gemstones, solid silver and white gold.  Managed to haggle 20% out of her.  She must know she’ll do well or she wouldn’t have agreed so readily.

Final booking was an eco-friendly happy-clapper who makes bags and belts from strips of designer carrier bags - apparently doing a bomb on her website.  Really quite fetching if a little odd.

Fenella called to say she’d booked a couple of friends. One selling period clothing and fantastic fake furs and another who makes unique wooden toys and children’s furniture.

Felt reasonably pleased with our morning’s work.  Four bookings already.  Another six and we’ll have our full set of outside traders.

Had a quick coffee with Mrs Sengupta before collecting Max.  She loved hearing all about the fair and said she was eager to take a stall herself.  Her pickles and chutneys are to die for so when she came up with the idea of ‘Ba’s Kitchen’ (Ba meaning Grandmother), I agreed that homemade produce would be just the sort of thing that Manor House mummies would go for.  Left her rattling pots, pans and spices, thoroughly fuelled by the idea.

Picked Max up from nursery, sneakily avoiding NM who was desperately trying to engage anyone who’d join in a conversation about Perry’s IQ.  Why would anyone be interested in the IQ of another person’s child, for God’s sake?  We all think ours are the brightest/prettiest/kindest, so let’s just accept it and get on with our lives.

Was a bit perplexed to get home to a message from the school;

“So sorry to trouble you Mrs Marchant.  Mrs Montague here from Manor House.  I understand that you will be class rep from next term alongside Fenella Hunter-Barnes.  I’m afraid that we have lost both our current Seedling reps due to a relocation and a caesarean and we have a rather pressing issue to discuss before we break for summer.  We were hoping all reps could attend an emergency committee meeting here at 10am tomorrow so that decisions can be made before the start of next term, as we have a legal obligation to make all parents aware of the facts. Terribly sorry to impose before you’ve even had a chance to settle at the school.  I’d be awfully grateful if you could call the school office to let them know if you will be able to attend.  Bye-bye now.”

What on earth could all that be about? 

Fenella called - just as bewildered as me.

“Lordy, you don’t think they’re going to close the school down or anything do you, Lib?”

“No.  Don’t be so bloody daft.”  I answered.

Although I did panic slightly at the thought.  They wouldn’t, would they?

PM

Ned laughed when I voiced my concerns.

“No, Lib, knowing our luck they’ll be considering upping the fees by some ridiculous amount and they’ll want to brainwash you to do the hard sell on the other parents.  And if that’s the case, my love, we are well and truly stuffed.”

Tuesday 10
^th
June  AM

Luckily a typical June day - pissing down - so I could get away with my trendy black tailored suit, which seemed most fitting for the occasion.

Will write more after the event.

PM

Can’t believe there are such horrid people in the world!

Arrived at the meeting and was led to the staff room.  All introduced ourselves and we were welcomed as ‘incoming Seedling reps’.

Started off pleasantly enough - tea, coffee, biscuits and nervous little titters interspersed with the over-confident guffawers.

Then we got down to business.  It still makes my blood boil just thinking about it.

It appears that a group of mothers, one of whom was present, has decided they don’t want the school running an educational trust as “we really don’t want
those
kind of people here at Manor House.”

“We’re paying for the privilege of choosing which type our children mix with and don’t intend to subsidise those who simply can’t afford it.”

This was from the ring-leader, Nerissa, a pinch faced squirt of a thing who clearly felt she needed to compensate for her height by making her presence felt through her volume and emphatic tone.

She went on, “Offend or please, if the CCL trust continues we may see fit to remove our children from the school or at very least decline from any fund-raising events encouraging it.”

With this she flopped her stroppy little body into her seat and crossed her arms triumphantly.

Can’t get over the snobbery of the woman and, thankfully, it seemed as if others were feeling the same as a general shocked babble started up around the room.

Still mortified by what happened next and cringing as I write.  A very pleasant, quietly spoken lady stood up.  She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt and looked a little like a trendy vicar’s wife.  She cleared her throat and said, “I’m sorry that you feel that way, Nerissa.  As you know, my Monica has been a CCL child for 3 years now and I’ve never felt any resentment from other mothers or children.  In fact, our class has never been anything but welcoming but, as the nature of this issue has presented a conflict of interest, I feel it only right that I resign from my position as rep with immediate effect and leave you to make your decisions.”

The poor woman then picked up her bag and, with great dignity, nodded her goodbyes and left.

The room fell into silence and Fenella and I looked at one another aghast.  Mrs Montague stood and addressed the committee …

“When we started this school 20 years ago, it was always our intention to run CCL.  However, we cannot do this without our parents’ support. If there are enough who feel strongly against it, we would have no choice but to cease fundraising immediately.  Of course, any trust students already attending the school would be permitted to continue until the end of their education here at Manor House.

Several mothers began to speak at once - all desperate to make their opinions clear.

“Good heavens no, don’t do away with CCL.  It’s fantastic.”

“Here, here.  I’m all for it.”

“I’ve never heard anyone say anything against it until today.”

“I can’t believe that of Manor House mothers.”

Mrs Montague looked relieved but continued, “It’s good to hear so many positive comments around the room but we still need to ask that you survey all parents in your class and then get back to us with your findings.  As trustees, we are unable to make direct approaches in case we are accused of trying to influence the result by imposing our views.”

She then gave one rep from each class a folder with surveys and updated class lists.  “Please return these to the school as soon as possible and we’ll meet again with your findings at the same time next week.  Thank you all so much for your time.”

Fenella & I left in silence.  It really had left a nasty taste in my mouth and I couldn’t actually think of anything to say.

The silence was broken by Fenella who managed to articulate my thoughts.

“What an evil bitch that Nerissa is.  Just how many do you think there are in her merry little band?  She needs to be cut down to size (we exchanged looks to acknowledge the irony).  God
I
don’t want to mix with
her
kind.”

She then decided that there was no time like the present and, as she had a few spare hours, she was going to drive to every Seedlings home and personally deliver the surveys.

“And those that are in will receive a potted version of the vile diatribe that spewed from that poisoned dwarf’s putrid mouth.  Don’t worry, I’ll get them on side, Lib.  Speak later.”

Felt quite confident as I know how persuasive Fenella can be - after all I’ve been on the other end of it.

Ned was gob-smacked by the news.  “God Lib, do we really want Max exposed to snobbery like that?  I hope it’s not the majority ‘cos I might start to have second thoughts about this prep lark.”

Luckily Fenella called to say that she had all but one completed surveys (au pair only at home) and not
one
felt that CCL should be abolished.

Rightly feeling very proud of herself but had to rein her in when she began talking about starting up the ‘GNOME’ group - “Get Nerissa Out (of) Manor (House) Education.  Tempting but I couldn’t agree to it.

Wednesday 11
^th
June  AM

Am now heartily sick of cleaning or stepping in dog poo or wee and smelling a combination of both.  Dog is definitely getting spayed as soon as poss.  No more puppies for
him.

Put Christmas Fair on the back burner and started thinking about ideas for Max’s party.  Have to get the invites out soon as August is such a bad month - half the London school set will be away.

He’s decided he wants a fancy dress party.  Other requests dictated to me were:

Want to go as Dog

Fun games

Sunny day in my garden

All nursery kids plus Todd & Charlotte

No entertainer - bored with them

Cake must have lots of coloured icing and 5 candles

Must win one pass-the-parcel - it’s
my
birthday

Jelly must be green and ice cream chocolate.  PLEASE can we have sprinkles?

No vegetables

Party bags must be good.

I giggled over the list as it sounded a bit like the sort of bargain bucket party I’d envisaged NM hosting for PP, albeit that the guest list was slightly longer.  How funny that Max should be so sick of entertainers by the ripe old age of five.  Just goes to show how many clichéd ‘mother-chucks-money-at-a-magician’ parties kids can take before they’ve had their fill.

Drew up list of my own:

Make invites
- Dog theme?

Trawl web for cheap but effective Dog costume.
  Make own?

House too small to hold inside, so pray for that sunny day
- but not too hot or Max will be ‘Melting Dog’.  Contemplate contingencies if raining.  Mini gazebo?  (check Argos catalogue for bargain)

Web search new and exciting fun games.

Buy pass the parcel prizes and wrap
- remember there has to be a sweet between each layer nowadays as no child must be subjected to the trauma of not winning!
Who started that idea?

Start looking for inexpensive party bag treats
- ratio of 3 sweets to 1 gift seems to be the norm.  May break from the mould and do just 1 decent (small) gift per child.  Would Max ever forgive me or could I start a new trend?  To consider.

Buy cake tin in shape of a dog or dog’s head.

Draw up list of food
- no vegetables.

Suddenly planning a party for 20 kids (at our own home!) seems a cinch compared to my new school commitments.  Never would have considered the idea up to a month ago.  Obviously constantly growing as a parent and learning to go with the flow my child creates. 

PM

What was all that bollocks I was on about earlier?

Max was having his tea when he calmly informed me that he still wanted to have the party he’d mentioned but,

“I also want a puppet show.”

What?  Everything was going so well and I thought I had it all under control.

“Yes, Mummy,” he continued, “But I don’t want a
paid for
one.”
 
(He made this sound like a dirty word.)  “I want you and Daddy to do it, like you do for me sometimes but for
all my friends
.”