The school run... and other joys

Ah, the school run.

I only thought I knew what stress was doing the nursery run when I had to run, a mere 30 ft, in the rain to class room and peel a child off my leg.

But Primary School has brought it's own unique joys.

First off all, the boy goes to school approximately five miles from our house (and just round the corner from my work) and I have to pick my niece off to leave her to school too.

Now the boy refuses to leave before Thomas & Friends ends on Milkshake. He never used to mind but now thy have animated the trains' faces and you can see them talk and he's all a frenzy. So there is a little mini row each morning as we try and force him out the door before driving to my niece's. Now my niece is lovely, but she likes to forget things, or dawdle, or just generally chat to you before she puts her seatbelt on - while all the time the clock is ticking.

I'm already close to meltdown by the time we set off on the bulk of our drive, through rush hour traffic at a virtual standstill while the clock ticks on.

Reaching the school, usually, five minutes before the bell tolls we face another joy. You can't park in the school grounds, you see. Or anywhere near the doors. And it's busy, really busy so generally you find yourself having a good old sprint to get there in time - remembering coats, schoolbags, lunch bags and children as you go.

Reaching the school, we deposit my niece first - cue ceremonial hugging, kissing and "I'll miss you" between her and her cousin and then we walk, about 234 miles to the other end of the school to deposit the boy.
We are still there before 9.10am - but still we seem to always be the last ones to arrive and his teacher smiles at me sympathetically as we scurry through the door.
Joseph has even started apologising for me. "Sorry teacher, the traffic on the bridge was really, really bad" and I batter on red-faced and stressed because 10 past nine is still 10 minutes after I'm supposed to be in work.

So I run back to the car, drive like the clappers and get to work 15 minutes late, and feel like I've run a marathon.
My only consolation is that as I arrive I generally bump into my colleagues with children who all have the same look of stress and harassment as they walk through the door hoping no-one notices.

The up[side is that nothing in your day is as stressful after that.