I used to blog here under the name Calamity Jo and regale my non-existent readers with tales of derring do as I tried to get to work on time while keeping offspring, mind and spirit in one piece. But I abandoned that persona in the hope that readers (now I have 12!) or potential employers might think of me as capable rather than calamitous. However, she ocasionally comes back to haunt me. (I've listed two books here of a similar ilk, in case anyone's interested, and to prove that it's not just me!)
Take yesterday, for example. I had the usual Tuesday objectives - school run, fitness class, make dinner in advance, write something - with just two added complications. A football match and a dog handling lesson. But it was running out of petrol that truly stumped me. Here's how events unfolded:
- Number one son had a school football match straight after pick up. Woo hoo! He'd been picked for the team and was beyond chuffed! It meant binning our usual weekly swimming lessons, but I was prepared to sacrifice that in favour of standing on a sodden sideline cheering and trying to wrestle my iPhone off his bored sibling, because I'm that sort of mum. Self-sacrificing.
- You see, swimming lessons for the boys normally mean me-time for me. Having painstakingly taught them how to use the lockers, showers and ACTUAL SHOWER GEL, nowadays I only occasionally dip my toe in the water with them. More often, I elbow other customers out of the way to get to my favourite table in the coffee emporium above the roped off lanes, where I can glance between front-crawling child and the one who is with me while the other has his lesson, my Twitter page in one hand and whatever I might be reading or writing that week in the other.
- But I banished thoughts of that pleasure from my mind while I packed the car with chocolate biscuits, water bottles, jackets, boots and the usual just-in-case necessities that make my handbag so overweight. Then we eventually made our way to a tiny school off a confusing one-way system that I managed to find despite the best efforts of an alleged roadmap website that always seems to send people half a mile in the wrong direction. And despite the fuel gauge on my car barely registering... the plot thickens.
- Anyway, the school won their match and, although my own child didn't score, he contributed some competent "assists" (I'm learning the language here Mr Gray, ok) and ran his socks off. The boys wolfed down the aforementioned treats that I'd had the foresight to pack and I went in search of petrol before approaching our second complication. So far so good. But that's when I realised.... I had come out without my purse.
- We were off to our first Guide Dogs Boarder Volunteer lesson and it didn't finish until 8:30pm. The plan was to whizz in to the sort of hideous fast-food drive thru that the boys love to get them some dinner and reward them, in advance, for their good behaviour. Not the most ethical parenting decision I know but the children weren't supposed to come with me to this first hands-on session. The organisation had kindly said they could come and I promised that they'd sit quietly and do their homework. But without money, there was no anticipatory bribe, and without that how were they going to last, angelically, until 8 when the first thing they saw as we walked through the Guide Dogs headquarters was a large tin of chocolates?
- Wait, rewind! I'm still at the petrol station, owing £30, with just two pound coins in my pocket and half the contents of my house bar the one essential thing I required. My purse! I could picture it lying idle in my birthday present of a handbag, draped on the bannister at home. The boys helped me turn the interior of our vehicle upside down in the vain hope that it might teleport itself our way but no dice. Muttering something melodramatic about going to prison, I wandered into the shop to prostrate myself at the mercy of the forecourt owner.
- Fortunately, he was the manager, I think, and, luckily again, he didn't have to phone head office or get out the handcuffs immediately. I could hardly offer to wash up so I told him straight up that I was in a bit of pickle as I'd inadvertently come out without any means to pay, other than a cheque book. He almost laughed at this antiquated device and, while a queue formed embarassingly behind me, I gave him the boys' iPod Touch, my mobile number, a cheque and proof of my home address in exchange for a guarantee that I'd be back within two hours to pay my bill.
- The boys were gutted but I explained that it was a small price to pay for keeping me out of Porridge. I didn't tell them that he had wanted my phone but I had explained that I needed that to get online directions to my next appointment (fat chance!) and to ring him with if the need arose. I got his number and, instead, phoned my Saintly husband, who would have refuelled the car at the earliest opportunity, straight after school drop off, of course.
- Our Hero left work early, got off the train one stop early and took his lycra clad legs to the venue of my indebtedness to pay it off, then got back on the train and ran home. (He's training for the marathon - don't feel too sorry for him, unless you want to raise funds for St Dunstan's and sponsor him, in which case - he's a good egg, please go ahead.)
- Meanwhile, me and the boys learnt all about dog handling, of which more later. Save to say that they didn't get to bed until late because we had to eat whatever I'd left festering in the slow cooker while we'd been out to try to dilute the seven Quality Street they'd managed to scoff while my back was turned. Cue grumpy morning today - for all of us. And so the cycle spirals. Anyone got some virtual Valium or a recipe for exorcising Calamity Jo in favour of Capable Caroline?
Now I've just blogged here about our first ever skiing jaunt. But I had no idea that by taking my children out of school for three extra days after the Christmas holidays, I would soon want to reverse the two words of the title of that post.
I want my children to be well educated and they love their village primary. Of course the school has to tow the party line and stick to Government strategy to drive down truancy. And it can't have one rule for one person and another for others, so it has procedures in place whereby you apply for permission for absence from the head teacher. Of course there have to be rules and repurcussions for persistent abusers who take their children out of school for weeks on end.
To start fining or prosecuting well-meaning parents who want to do the best by their families while their children still have fewer constraints at primary age seems a little harsh. But that's how I ended up on the Naughty Step.
I'm all for educational holidays like these and admire people like this and this so surely we can ask for a little leeway. And where does the money go if someone is fined? Back to the school itself? No, into some council coffer never to be seen again.
So, we survived our newbies skiing holiday without any broken bones or equipment and can even boast that we vaguely mastered the skill. The children may have lapped my husband and I on the blue piste course we set ourselves, but that's because we learnt the proper parallel turns. Honest! While they zoomed down and deployed the occasional snowplough to come to a teetering halt near a heart-stopping edge, we took our time and did it properly (in between furtive glances and whispers to each other that it looked a bit steep!)
Here's where we stayed and here are my top tips to anyone else considering taking up the sport with young children at the tender age of ... my own several decades.
1) COST: I always thought that skiing was what posh people did, having overheard the odd "We're off to Val d'Isere skiing... oh yes, a yacht in Porta Banus for the summer" in my youth. It is indeed, an expensive pursuit. There's the accommodation, the flight, buying or hiring the gear, the lessons and the not-to-be-missed apres ski. But there are ways to cut the cost.
First, we flew on a budget airline at hideous o'clock in the morning. That was tolerable, and for the kids, added to the excitement.
Second, we opted for skiing classes in the afternoon, which were not only cheaper but as most of the other learner skiers wanted to be on the slopes in the morning so they could enjoy a lazy lunch and then a snooze, conatined fewer people. Therefore, we learnt quicker. In theory! Other ski schools in the area included BASS, ESF and Ski Morzine.
Finally, we begged and borrowed as much kit as possible and asked for ski-related items for the kids Christmas presents. I shopped with the expert skier friend who had organised the trip and cajoled us into joining them and took her advice and guidance on indulging in really good ski jackets with all the pockets, snow skirts, warmth and water-proofness required, but I bought them in the sales online or from TKMaxx. Then, we were given or lent goggles, gloves, socks and thermal layers.
2) KIT: Those layers are vitally important. As someone more adept at dealing with warmer climes, for the first two days of skiing I returned chalet-bound barely able to feel the tips of my fingers and toes. The next day, I added another layer. And the next day, I added another and also went to a ski hire shop and bought some proper ski socks. A hideous orange and grey nylon-type combo, they have padding on the ankles and shins and are made of some miracuous fabric that kept my chillblained toes warm at all times. Fluffy tube socks are no good. Nor are woolly ones. This is one area where you need to splash out 20 Euros or more - even if you buy just the one pair and rinse and repeat for the rest of the week, as I did! Later in the week, as my skiing got better, I was spending less time standing around and more time moving, so I actually got warm and had to take off a layer. But because all my tops were then and thermal, it was easy just to bung it in a rucksack and carry it. You might want to invest in mitten liners as well as waterproof gloves or mittens and it's handy if they've got elastic round them to keep them on your wrists so they don't get lost or fall off when you're adjusting your goggles mid chair-lift!
3) BOOTS: Once you've got the right socks, you must get your ski boots fitted properly and clicked into place on the right settings on your ski bindings. The boots have to fit very tightly so that you can be properly balanced on your skis without your foot sliding or ankle turning. It's vital that this is done properly to avoid too much discomfort. They're awkward to walk in at the best of times and DON'T FORGET not to tuck your long johns or anything else inside your boots other than socks as this can lead to nasty blisters.
4) PREPARATION: A reasonable level of fitness is a great help for novice skiers. My sons regularly play football and run about like lunatics so that's a tick. My husband's doing the London marathon so, although injury was a worry, he was fine. And I'm a British Military Fitness addict so, although I used different muscles, at least I had the necessary stamina for climbing endess steps wearing moon boots and carrying skis, poles and other daily paraphernalia. Aside from this, we had had one dry ski slope lesson here. There's also a massive snow sports centre in Milton Keynes and others in Scotland. Just to know how to do up your boots, clip on your skis and snowplough (or pizza and chips, as the kids were taught) saves you part of a lesson once you're out in the cold reality.
5) SENSE AND SENSIBILITY: Having graduated from novice to 'debutante' to someone able to navigate down a blue piste, fall over and get up again without anyone noticing, I count my lucky stars. As well as our initial lesson near home, our friend took us up in the cable car on day one of our holiday and showed us where to put the skis on the outside of the cable car; how to zap your ski pass in the turnstile and where the 'baby' slope was. Our ski-lesson class mate was not so lucky. Her 'friends' took her down the mountain via the blue pistes on day one. Already suffering from vertigo, she was terrified and ended up taking off her skis and walking part of the way down. She completely lost her nerve on day two of the classes and gave up, preferring to stick to the magic carpet or travelator and practice on her own. Don't do this. Don't push yourself too quickly or show off and, if in doubt, fall over. On the other hand, do try to stay confident and practice what you've been taught in your lesson. And, you WILL fall over, even our instructor did once, so don't worry about it and DON'T keep your lip balm in your trouser pocket or you end up with a corker of a bruise when you land on it!!
6) LUXURY: We scrimped and saved to pay for our trip, which included breakfast, a four-course dinner each night as well as cleaning service, airport transfers, minibus lifts into town and a luxurious outdoor hot tub in which to soak away those aches and pains. It was glorious to have that too look forward to and completely made the holiday. I only wish we'd been able to bring our resident chef and chalet maid home with us... but, back to reality!
There's some other useful advice on this link .
