Olympic Insanity School Run Games

Jo Adamson-Parker - 18 Jun 18

There should be an Olympic Games awarding level for the school run. Ok so  yes I know athletes train/work tirelessly, make huge sacrifices and push their bodies to the limit but actually…hang on,  I’ve just described being a parent!

I think,  some mornings if I knew that once I’d battled to the end of the school run and my precious little princes had been safely deposited in their classrooms or with the childminder, if I knew I’d then get to clamber, frazzled onto a podium to receive a shiny big medal or a prize, the battle would have felt worthwhile.  As it is I have a coffee and the occasional hob nob to look forward to.

This morning I think I earnt a silver. Not the worst I’ve had but we hardly skipped to school, though it was better than last Thursday where for some unknown reason we walked half the way singing ‘When the Saints go marching in’ at the top of our voices . Bubba started it and I’d not heard it in ages, so I thought ‘Why Not?’ I joined in and it was jolly good fun! Squeak was walking backwards, getting tangled in his reins,  with his head looking up shouting and pointing ‘Playne! playne!’ every five seconds so we must have been an entertaining sight.

Today, Squeak was on his lead and he’s still not happy about it. But, I don’t really have much choice as the buggy broke coming back from Australia so I ‘accidentally’ left it at Gatwick and as his feet were dragging on the floor in the last one I don’t feel I can buy another! SO now he has to walk EVERYWHERE, and he doesn’t like it. Or rather he doesn’t like that he now has to walk where I want him to walk and Heaven forbid I sometimes also make him hold my hand!! He really kicks off at that. Tears start and he brings out the scream. Little sod is fine for The Wife, oh yes he’ll happily trot along at the side of her hand in hand or with her loosely holding his reign.  Me? Nah.

It’s like having an untrained excitable puppy, that everyone thinks is really cute but they wouldn’t want to take it for a walk! For me, he won’t even walk in a straight line! We have to stop and watch every bus go past, every car, van, truck. Buses he will still scream excitedly at and he loves a loud NeeNor! (That will be police, ambulance or Fire engine to the adults amongst us). It’d be ok if he just stopped when they went past but he’ll see it in the distance, has to watch it reach us and then we have to wait until it’s gone past, say ‘Bye Bye’ to it, watch it go, by which time something else of interest will have come along and it starts all over again. And don’t even mention Autumn. I hate Autumn now just because the leaves are off the tree’s, they’re on the path but they MUST go into the road. He can’t pass a ‘pile’ of four leaves without picking them up and tossing them into the road. This is all done one by one obviously.

Now I know some of you will be thinking ‘don’t be so miserable, let him do it’ but some days I don’t think I can actually walk that slow. Some days I don’t mind a slow wander but then some days I actually need to be somewhere within an hour! Now he’s on the lead…sorry on his reins, he’s stopping every few steps to demand a ‘tuddle’. No this isn’t a spontaneous outpouring of love for me but his way to get in my arms and latch on like a limpet. So, I’ll carry him. I’ve already been caught out with this one and yes I do feel mean not picking him up and carrying him, but he weighs more than two bags of potatoes, or if it’s those small pearl ones, then four bags! He’s heavy!

And the looks of disapproval! Yes, I’ve heard all the comments about ‘what message are you sending to him?’ ‘treating your child like a dog’…. Rarara heard it all but to those looks I say, ‘Well you try it then’. You try and keep him safe and going in the same direction as you just by holding his hand…that’s whilst he’s screaming because if you remember, he won’t hold my hand…, whilst he’s turning around, trying to go back the way you came, resting for a break, trying to shut every gate we go past….

I tried it once. I went solo without the reins, I even went into a shop. Never again. He cleared off two shelves, emptied a third as quickly as I tried to refill it and tried to run off with four tracker bars. I mean if you’re going to steal something it should be something worthwhile shouldn’t it?! A tracker bar isn’t even proper chocolate! We’re almost barred from our local Sainsbo.

SO, I’m sorry to all those reins disapprovers out there, they save what is left of my sanity and No, I’m not going to worry about the fact that he was crawling on the floor and barking the other day. I heard it, I only saw it out of the corner of my eye, so it didn’t happen!

Anyway, silver medal this morning, today I’m a winner! This evening I’ve given myself the supreme award of the  ‘Vodka Tonic of Distinction’ for dealing with a tricky home time, teatime chat about ‘why it’s good to eat’ and navigating a bath time chat about birth-parents!  Another day done.

Jo Adamson-Parker

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