Primary School Confidential (25 page)

Yeah, you know them. And it begs the question: when did it all get so fancy?

As I drop my kids at school each day, I line my car up with the others, all shiny late-model four-wheel drives what will never see a farm or the bush. Known as Toorak Tractors, they are typically Volkswagen Touaregs or BMW X5s. Well, they are where I live anyway.

In the back of these beasts are our kids, their eyes glued to the built-in DVD player all the way to kiss-and-drop zone, where they reach for school bags containing any or all of the following:

• Organic lunch in insulated container.

• Permission notes.

• A flute.

• A tennis racquet.

• Money in an envelope for an excursion to the Opera House.

• A tablet loaded with school-approved apps for learning.

• A speech about who inspires you and why printed out on little cards.

• A water bottle labelled with your kid's name.

• Birthday invitations designed by some hotshot graphic designer, containing details of your child's birthday party (a trip to a water park, then a meal at a hatted restaurant followed by a sleepover at the Hilton).

• A pencil case from Smiggle with coordinated pens, rubbers and other such crap.

• A small piece of unidentifiable rotten fruit, because it doesn't matter how fancy you are, some things never change.

Of course, this brand of fanciness is specific, not universal, and is confined to areas such as Sydney's North Shore or Eastern Suburbs, Melbourne's Toorak or, down the coast, Portsea, and Cottesloe in Perth. But that doesn't change the fact that, overall, the education system has become extremely fancy compared to what our ancestors had to contend with. Not to mention what
we
had to contend with . . .

Personally, I'm lucky to be alive, as I was a child of the Unflued Gas Heating Era. Perhaps you were as well?

Did you used to sit on those blue metal heaters in the classroom to thaw your freezing arse? Turns out, we were all being slowly poisoned by the Department of Education. Known as an unflued
gas heater, that blue metal baby was in fact emitting invisible poisonous gases; nasty stuff like nitrogen dioxide, formaldehyde, carbon dioxide and that old chestnut, carbon monoxide. We were breathing in these toxic vapours all day, as we sat and rote learnt our seven times tables. As we filled in the blanks of the comprehension sheets. As we sniffed the shit out of those comprehension sheets that were fresh off the spirit duplicator. We were also sniffing the shit out of mono-fluoro tri-chloro methane and ethylene glycol monoethyl ether.

Is it any wonder that I found it hard to conquer the times tables? I was high.

There's no chance of getting carbon monoxide poisoning in the classroom these days. We have temperature-controlled climates. In fact, we have controlled everything.

There are bus monitors to monitor kids' behaviour on the bus. Library monitors to make sure things run smoothly in the library at lunchtime. There are school crossing monitors, lunch monitors, line monitors, computer room monitors, canteen monitors, sports monitors and assembly monitors. Everything that can be done in school is now monitored.

I cannot pinpoint the moment that huge, big sunhats became compulsory, although I do blame them for the lack of freckled-faced kids who now roam the modern playgrounds of our country. Only time will tell whether this practice will lower our incidence of skin cancer as they get older. Peeling, red raw noses were the rule when I was a kid, not the exception. Now, if you send your kids to school with sunburn, well you might as well send in a peanut butter sandwich as well, such is your negligence.

According to the Royal Children's Hospital in Melbourne, a child only needs six to seven minutes of direct sunlight per day to get their hit of vitamin D but, of course, only when smothered in sunscreen. If this is just not doable in your situation, you can always contribute to the billion-dollar supplement industry that is currently booming.

I remember when I was about five years old I had a pill addiction. I discovered our neighbours, the Sugdens, had a stash of fizzy vitamin C tablets that I would eat handfuls of every time I went for a visit. They kept them on a low shelf in their pantry at a time when childproof lids had not been invented. My visits to the Sugdens often ended with an explosive asshole.

But it is true that today we get our vitamin advice now from washed-out soap stars and the sister of a Hollywood actress. *Head tilt. Smiles empathetically. Holds bottle to camera. Have kids playing in the background with a dog of pure breeding.*

Or you can just cut up an orange, hand it to your children and tell them there is nothing else if greeted with protest. Better still, peg it out into the stinking hot backyard, set your timer for seven minutes and congratulate yourself on keeping it real.

26

WHAT SCHOOL MUM IS THAT?

One of the strange phenomena that happens when your kid starts primary school is that you are automatically labelled a ‘school mum'.

Being a school mum can take you right back to the school playground in many ways, because, just like when you were at school yourself, there are different cliques and categories and you don't want to fall in with the wrong crowd. In this chapter, I am going to help you to identify the different types of school mum, and hopefully help to guide you through the sometimes delightful and sometimes confusing reality of being a grown-up in the school environment. (And, as usual, my musings and advice should be taken with a grain of salt, as they are served with a hefty dose of generalisation.)

SANCTIMONIOUS MUM

Sanctimonious Mum knows the name of the Unknown Soldier. She is swift to point out your shortcomings and will share her opinion on anything, whether it is asked for or not. Quite often she is highly intelligent and has based her opinions on hard facts and research.

If you disagree with her, her natural reaction would be a slight flare of the nostril, a slight head tilt and a short but meaningful death stare. It's best not to disagree with her for she is also a good gossip and can destroy you and your reputation within one canteen duty.

Teachers are frightened of the Sanctimonious Mum, for she thinks nothing of entering a classroom and demanding to know why her gifted and talented child was not chosen for the gifted and talented program. The world revolves around her needs and desires and should you dare object . . . NOSTRIL FLARE!

PURIST MUM

Purist Mum had a drug-free birth and reminds you of it often. She will bring gluten-free protein balls—homemade, naturally—into the classroom to celebrate her kid's birthday and, you wouldn't believe it, they're actually made with beetroot!

The Purist Mum is a real mover and shaker when it comes to implementing environmental projects within the school. You can bet a bunch of organic carrots that she helped set up the vegetable garden and she'll always be asking you to join her co-op. She wears a wide-brimmed hat and no makeup, and is the picture of sunny, smiling health. I am quite often inspired by the Purist
Mum—not enough to put down my can of Diet Coke and get into making my own kombucha, but I do find them to be an interesting and important part of the school mum mix.

WORKING MUM

The Working Mum is often a target of scorn because she is unable to go on excursions, do canteen, host play dates or drop everything to go to the cafe for a flat white and a gossip (because she is at work).

Whether she works though necessity or for sanity, the Working Mum needs the support of others in the community to make her life easier, or just possible. You rarely see her, as her kids are in before- and after-school care, but she rushes into assemblies when she can make it, always with an apologetic look, as if she obliged to justify her choices. And of course she shouldn't have to.

I have been the Working Mum. I know how difficult it can be. I know the guilt and I also recall the loveliness of those other mothers who would help me out when things got a bit too crazy.

SLACKER MUM

All hail the Slacker Mum, who is slack. But guess what? She just doesn't care! Her anxiety levels are very low and things happen at her pace. So she might not be great at handing in notes. Her kids' books remain contact-free long after Easter has come and gone. She may or may not turn up to reading groups that week, depending on her mood.

The Slacker Mum often orders her kids' lunches at the canteen because she has forgotten to buy bread. The Slacker Mum sends
her kids to school in their normal uniform on mufti days, because she never got around to reading the school newsletter. It is not unusual to see the Slacker Mum at the school gate in her pyjama pants, sans bra and with her hair unbrushed. Judge away if you want, but she is just getting on with getting on, and doesn't care what you think.

GETS-SHIT-DONE MUM

Every school needs a smattering of these women. They are essential for a school to keep ticking over. Some other mums are fearful of them and their formidable organisational skills, but you shouldn't shrink away; you should be bloody thankful to have them in your playground.

How else would you get a pink mug on Mother's Day that says WORLD'S GREATEST MUM, if not for the Get-Shit-Done Mum who organised the stall? These mums arrange for thoughtful gifts to be given to the teacher on their birthday and at Christmas time. They are inevitably the ‘class mum' who will coordinate communications for important events, such as class dinners and park dates.

I love Get-Shit-Done Mums. They keep me honest and tell me when I have forgotten to send in a box of tissues or something equally random. In fact, I have befriended a Get-Shit-Done Mum who now thoughtfully texts me important reminders as described in a previous chapter.

As I said earlier, you might find this type of mum intimidating, but I urge you to embrace her. She has a genuine desire to help—to GET SHIT DONE. And, hey, if she wasn't there, then you might have to do it. Think about it.

TOO-COOL MUM

Well, quite frankly, the Too-Cool Mums frighten the bejesus out of me. They walk as if they have never tripped over a tree root in their life, and they can do it while drinking coffee at the same time as checking their phone. They don't even have to look where they are going. It is like their brains are pre-programmed to avoid things that might trip them.