School's (nearly) out

“Mummy, please don’t do anything strange today” Mac pleaded this morning as we entered the school gates for the penultimate time. He was, of course, heading for his day at nursery and I was heading to pick up my instructions for the Parents Evening tonight. I promised nothing as I waved him off, even though I’m bound to get the same request from David. School Secretary looked harassed when I joined the other mummies in the hall - I’m being shunned by Green Mummy, Overly Hearty Mummy, Keen to Fit In Mummy, Cagoule Mummy and Alex's Mummy Joy following the contretemps at the school gate last week and they moved, as one, to the opposite side of the room away from me. I was to be Refreshments with Dawn (“Mrs Ashley”) as my helper. Quite how I get myself into these situations I’m not sure.

The school summer fete last Saturday was interesting to say the least. I was in charge of the tombola and had to referee between three women, all of whom for some reason had the same colour winning raffle ticket, and all three of whom were determined to be the one to walk away with the Top Prize: a bottle of Harveys Bristol Cream Sherry.

Tonight is when we see just how prepared for Big School our little boy is. He’s been making casual comments of the “don’t worry if I haven’t got a very big bit of wall” variety which leads me to believe he hasn’t applied himself very well and David to fear for his place at the London Nautical. “Alex’s mummy has bought a special portfolio box for all of his artwork” I said this morning as we headed out the door. Mac gave me a look to suggest that, for his masterpieces, a Tesco’s carrier bag would do.

Tomorrow is his End of Term Picnic and we’ve all been asked to provide refreshments “home made if possible and understanding of any dietary requirements/restrictions”. I left Dawn pondering whether or not she could get away with a 2 litre bottle of Tizer and a packet of KP Nuts. I think she was joking.

“What will we be doing when I finish school mummy?” Mac asked me last night before giving me a verbal list that requires me to win a significant amount on the Lottery. It seems that only non-stop trips to the cinema, bowling alley, theme parks, amusement parks and the seaside will satisfy my child this summer. My friend Rosie has got a madcap idea of buying a tent and pitching it in a random field and getting back to nature. What’s really crazy is that she thinks that Mac and I should join her and Ben on this loopy excursion.

I haven’t told him, just in case he adds camping to his list of “must-do’s”.

Doubling up

I do hope you all forgive me but I'm combining two posts in one - it's not because I'm lazy but efficient (honest) and there are some remarkable similarities towards both the award and the tag. Bear with me, it's been a bizarre couple of days (a whole other post to follow) and I'm craving sugar like you would not believe. I currently have a nice hot steaming cup of tea with - count 'em - three sugars. I never take sugar in tea. I think I'm missing something.

Anyway. Where was I? Oh yes. The very fabulous Je Ne Regrette Rien awarded me this recently and I now have to 1) select five blogs that they consider deserving of the award. Criteria is creativity, design, interesting material, and for contributing to the blogging community in any language. 2) Include the name of the author and a link to the blog, for each award designated. 3) Award winner must display the award graphic and put the name and blog link of the blog author that gave the award 4) Include a link to the "Arte Y Pico" blog, in order to share the origin of the award.

Just as I was pondering this, as you do, the very lovely Millennium Housewife tagged me for providing a post that made her laugh and I now have to do the same: name five fave posts from five of my favourite blogs.

So I'm going to combine the two! Not only do I get to award five bloggers with the Arte Y Pico award, I also get to name my favourite posts from the same blogger.

Before you all lose the will to read on (I'm currently experiencing a sugar rush, David has just deposited two custard creams by my tea mug) here goes......remember nominees, not only do you get to display the award and pass it on, you also have to nominate five of your bestest posts from your bestest bloggers. Double whammy or what?

Okay......first up is the new yummy mummy Kelly with this post that made me laugh and want a baby shower of my own.....plus "happy dances" feature in this household too! Kelly is what my mum would have called "a lovely young lady" and I eagerly await posts from her. A combination of moving, new mummy-hood and lack of broadband have all prevented her from blogging and I'm suffering from withdrawal symptoms.

Second is Sharon who writes wonderful honest posts all about her weight loss journey - an inspirational read that rings so many bells with me I feel like I've got tinnitus. This is my favourite post from Sharon - it was hard to choose.

Next up is Working Mum with this gem of a conversation......it sounds oh so familiar. Mac is convinced that it's not the dodo that's extinct, it's Frodo. Working Mum is someone I aspire to......yet am convinced I come up wanting. And I'd kill to sing in a choir but have been told I have "no idea". Hm.

Fourthly (!) is Potty Mummy at The Potty Diaries.....again, so difficult to choose my best post as I was spoilt for choice but I had to go for this one because a) it sounds oh-so familiar. Mac now has black-out blinds at his window: it was the only way to stop him waking up even earlier than the lark. Potty Mummy juggles two small boys - I don't know how she does it.

And last, but by no means least, is Mya (Missing You Already)......now, technically she's already been given the award by Je Ne Regrette Rien BUT as I was laughing out loud at this post (and the comments it provoked) I just had to, ahem, give it to her again. You'll understand my turn of phrase when you read this. Mya writes posts that have you rushing towards the end of them before going back again and reading them properly.

So, I hope you have enjoyed my choices........and enjoy choosing your own!

The Second Wives Club

I joined in with the badinage at the nursery gate this morning - I really wished I hadn't. It was one of those rare - for me anyway - mornings where everything went right. I had glossy, freshly washed-like-something-out-of-a-shampoo-advert hair, I felt thin and was wearing my skinny jeans that just about do up if I don't inhale and exhale too rigorously. Mac was up, washed, dressed, breakfasted and teeth brushed with nary a fuss (apart from when he wanted to brush Green Frogs teeth and I said he didn't have any which set off a debate about "why frogs don't have teeth") and we arrived on time with none of this screeching to a halt lark that I usually go in for.

"Not long now before they're all off at Big School!" Green Mummy said to the select few standing by the big iron gates as we watched our children file obediently into the building. She dabbed at her eyes with a worse-for-wear tissue. "I know, I'm taking Anna for her Walk Round on Monday" Cagoule Mummy said as she bounced the twins - Arthur and Andrew - in their pushchair. "Of course" Alex's Mummy Joy mused "we shall stay in touch shan't we, wherever our precious charges end up?" She made it sound as if they were being dispatched into No Man's Land. "I should coco!" said Overly Hearty Mummy "I say, shall we have one last blow out together? Lunch, just the girls!" Alison, Mum to Tom visibly shuddered and I have to admit I joined her. The others all nodded agreeably, with Keen To Fit In Mummy actually whipping out her Blackberry and suggesting dates.

A sudden exclaimation stopped us in our tracks - me literally as I was trying to escape. "I said hurry up Jonathan or I'll tell your father!". The group - apart from Alison and I - bristled as a very harrassed looking red-head rushed into view with a baby swaddled to her chest in one of those papoose thingies. "Ah look, there's Dawn, late again!" Green Mummy said with a smug look on her face. "Not hers you see, that's why she's so off with him" Alex's Mummy Joy whispered a la Les Dawson. "Course, the baby, well, she can do no wrong poor little mite" I looked again at the tableau: Jonathan was being herded into the building with Dawn snapping at his heels. "Hasn't got the mothering, wifely instinct, well, of course, she's The Second Wife isn't she?" Overly Hearty Mummy continued.

It turns out that Dawn is now married to Jonathan's Daddy who is something Big in Law because Jonathan's Daddy had an affair with Dawn and binned Jonathan's Mummy because - and here I quote - "A bit of cheap totty with legs up to her gusset and a filthy mind came along and broke up the happy home." According to Green Mummy (who's not as righteous as she makes out), baby Alice arrived two months after he left his wife. "What does that tell you?" she said, raising an unwaxed eyebrow.

Cagoule Mummy was building up a right head of steam. "I don't know what these women think they're up to, they see a man who's taken and decide they want him and so just take him, regardless of his wife, his children, his life or his wider family. A travesty, that's what it is. They should be tarred and feathered." I jumped, purely out of the shock of hearing her venom. Keen To Fit In Mummy agreed readily. "I knew a woman" she said conspiratorily so that we all had to lean in to hear her "met this married man, seduced him into a life of debauchery, got pregnant, gave him two kids to add to the three he already had with his first wife and then had the bloody cheek to complain when he rang off with the cleaning lady at his office!" Shocked gasps all round. I clutched onto Alison's arm for support.

Dawn reappeared, still looking harrassed, but stroking the head of her baby. We must have looked like we were auditioning for the scene in Macbeth as her gaze settled on us all. "Slapper!" Keen To Fit In Mummy hissed. Green Mummy nodded proudly and more than a little smugly.

Dawn shot off past us and stumbled down the street as I turned to face the vicious harpies I was standing with. Alison was patting my arm in a soothing manner and murmuring something. "That was unnecessary!" I gasped, truly shocked by what I'd just witnessed. "Oh come on Joanna!" Alex's Mummy Joy boomed "She took another....woman's......erm.......husband."

You could almost see and hear the pennies dropping as they all worked it out. You know. The fact that not only is David fifteen years older than me but he has a son who is ten years younger than me with, you know, his first wife. The one that these, quite frankly, horrific people thought that I had stolen David from. And, no doubt, that I had my lovely son to trap him into being with me.

By the time I was at home with Alison and a large slice of Ayres carrot cake (okay, two slices smushed together but I needed it) I was shaking with rage. "They're idiots, stupid people who see only in black and white" Alison soothed. "But the, fact, that.....the fact that they......" I was gobsmacked. Which will surprise a lot of you.

I felt angry, cross and upset - not because of what they said, or inferred but because of what I didn't say. I should have said that David had been living apart from his wife for six months before we went out on our first date and was knee deep in solicitors and "you have all the classical CDs if I can have the Bruce Willis DVDs" before we got engaged. I should have said that David's marriage was over, kaput, finito before I had even noticed the adorable twinkle in his eye. I should have said it's none of their damn business and that they should take a good hard look at their own lives (ooh, the things I could tell you) before they started slagging off mine. I should have said that they were sad individuals who only felt good about themselves if they were looking down on others. I should have said that there is nothing bad about being a Second Wife.

But I didn't. I allowed Alison to lead me back to the car and let me drive her back to my house. And then, at 3.25pm, when we all converged at the gates again, she stood with me as I held my head high and ignored the overly sweet comments and greetings I was getting "Oooh, I love your hair" Cagoule Mummy twittered. It took all of my effort not to slap her smug pock marked face. Dawn shuffled up to the gates but gave us all a wide berth - she nearly climbed the fence to get into the playground. We exchanged glances before I went over to join her.

I apologised for my part in the shocking display that morning and she mumbled something about Mac and Jonathan being great pals and how she keeps meaning to strike up a conversation. We shot each other a grin as the boys ran over to us. Alex's Mummy Joy looked fit to burst as we joined Alison and Tom and headed off to Starbucks for a coffee and a Getting To Know You Chat. And I only just resisted filling Dawn in on the others. Maybe I'll save that for another day.

Head for the hills

Janey has been on the phone a total of six times today asking me questions along the lines of "If the quiche is cooked the day before will it still be safe to eat?" and "What gas do we need to make the balloons float up to the ceiling and stay there? Nitrogen?". She is of course planning her one year anniversary party - the anniversary is tomorrow ("Never thought we'd get there to be honest") and the party is this coming Saturday in the same church hall that they held their wedding reception. My contribution to "the party of the year" is merely as guest but I did put her right on what gas to use. Could you imagine? They'd have to rewrite the A to Z.

I've spent today hiding from the Stewarts and Belinda Hall - the opposing armies have been up and down The Avenue, gathering supporters and running errands for the neighbours. Jane Opposite texted me the following "If leave a bucket of water by cars wonder if they will fight over who will wash them". I replied "worth a try" and considered leaving a garden fork out in the front garden just in case one of them fancied doing a bit of digging. Jack Next Door caught me in the garden while I was waiting for the beef to cook - he looked a bit worried. "That Belinda Hall women asked me if I needed any shopping doing.....she's two years older than me!"

Oh, and I've got this song going round and round and round my head. Bea says it's my own fault for not listening to Radio 4.

Satellite aggravation

David's sister Ginny is beginning to think that we've gone off her because she keeps asking us to visit her in Windsor and we don't. "I'm wondering if my family is a figment of my imagination" she said on the phone to me on Tuesday. Keen to escape the pressure cooker environment of The Avenue (Jill with the Purple Door has gone over to the Hall Camp because she now "can't stand" Jane Opposite who is firmly entrenched with Team Stewart because I am. Jack Next Door is sitting on the fence and Old Mrs Lazenby isn't bothered who she sides with as long as she gets her "heavy" shop done by one of them). David suggested yesterday evening that Mac and I drive to Windsor first thing, he'll get the train from work at around lunchtime (disaster with junior account executive "norsing things up" with the invoicing systems) and we'd all come home together. Jack Next Door was happy to pop into the dogs - I'd kept our jaunt away from the Stewarts and Belinda for fear the dogs would become pawns in their Quest for Avenue Domination - and Jack would even lie through his teeth if Amelia rang to see where we were.

Armed with directions, map, sat nav, polos, juice and snacks for Mac and coffee coursing through my veins, we set off bright and early at just gone 9am. Grace (my sat nav) was chatting merrily away and keeping me on course and all was right with the world - Mac was conjuring up one of his "personlally createded fun stories" and my coffee buzz was still buzzing. Until we hit the Chelsea Embankment and Grace deserted me. "Lost GPS signal" was flashing on my little screen. Thankfully I was in traffic so started my deep breathing techniques, peered at my map and tried not to panic. As I've previously documented, I hate HATE getting lost: cold sweat followed by hot sweat followed by a sick feeling.....I'm not sure what's given me my fear of getting lost but I'm sure it's something I inherited from my mum. She used to panic if we went anywhere North of The River "in case she couldn't get home again". Either that or Charlie is right and I hate not being in control. Whatever. All I knew was Grace had buggered off, I had the sudden awful thought that my "Nunhead to Windsor" directions and map were wrong (I had no proof of this, just a certain knowledge) and I was beginning to perspire.

Chugging along, surrounded by 4x4s and chauffeured cars in the steadily moving traffic I started pleading with the God of Driving to reinstate Grace. "I'll never call her a stupid wench again when she sends me fifteen miles out of my way because she's got it into her head that I don't want to go on the motorway" I muttered. "Lost GPS signal" was still flashing.

"Head for the A4 then M4, head for the A4 then M4" I kept muttering, along with "omigod this was such a big mistake" and "when I get my hands on the junior accounts executive I'll strangle him with his own tie". Just as I was about to give in and ring David for a quick sob (really, I'm such a drama queen), Grace beeped, bing bonged and started bossing me around as if she'd never been away. "Bear right onto Ashburnham Road" she nagged. I could have kissed her.

Soon we were eating up the miles on the M4, with Mac telling me the plotline of his latest blockbuster (one of these days I'll write one down and post it on here) whilst munching on a granola bar. I'd just started to relax (by that I mean my shoulders removed themselves from my ears and my fingers that were gripping the steering wheel had lost their white hue) when Grace did her disappearing act again. I couldn't remember the junction I needed to turn off at. "Darling, at what number did Grace tell mummy to leave the M4?" I asked hopefully. Mac thought for a few seconds and yelled "Seventy twelve mummy!"

Great.

My phone rang, thank God for Bluetooth. It was Ginny who hooted with laughter at my predicament. "Junction six darling - honestly, the scrapes you do get into" and hung up before I could ask her to guide me on from here. Grace, the treacherous little cow, bing bonged back as we got onto the A335 and stayed with me until we pulled up outside Ginny's place. "Don't trust 'em, never will, awful things!" Ginny boomed as I unclipped Grace and gave her a good shake. "Saw a programme once where the woman was recording all the directions for one of these things. She looked like she needed a good seeing to if you ask me." Mac loves his Auntie Ginny, probably because she constantly has him open mouthed with amazement. "We won't tell daddy about this will we sweetpea?" I said as we bundled into Ginny's eclectic abode and fell on the tea and wonderfully sticky cakes she'd provided.

David arrived in time for a late lunch and a good afternoon was had by all. Mac kept his side of the deal and accepted payment in rice crispie cakes.

As we were leaving David took the sat nav cradle off the windscreen "I don't need sat nav" he said as he assured me that I was far too reliant on maps and directions and stuff. "You just need a good sense of direction, common sense and a level head" he went on as he missed the turn off the roundabout so we had to go round again. Familiar scenery swam past my eyes until wordlessly I reinstated the cradle and told Grace where we wanted to go.

Of course, the bloody thing stayed with us the entire way home, took us a completely different route to the one I took this morning and even appeared to be mocking me when she told me we had arrived at our destination. Jabbing at her off button did little to console me but I took great delight in shoving her into a chaotic drawer in the dining room.

The Resistance

I was halted on my way along Nunhead Lane this morning (purchases from Ayres, butchers, chemist and the newsagents weighing me down) by Belinda Hall who professed great delight in seeing me and rabbited on and on about how well I was looking and how handsome my dogs are and how fabulous my (three year old) shoes were and that I had “nice shapely ankles”. Pleased that she’d noticed one of my best features I let my guard down slightly and dropped my bags where I stood. I was then flattered wildly for another five minutes (“I hear you’re THE person to know in the Avenue” and “lovely hanging baskets”) before she moved in for the kill - outlining her plans to Take Over The Avenue And Usurp The Stewarts.

Apparently, the whole Avenue is up in arms about the stranglehold the Stewarts have on us. I must admit I hadn’t noticed this and told her so – we’re all so used to them and their attempts to bolster community spirit that we just accept they’re “there”. Belinda gaped at me as if I’d suggested that her head was on fire. I admitted that they may be a little domineering but their hearts were in the right place. She clutched at her chest – “They are overbearing monsters who have the whole Avenue tied up in knots….they won’t even leave the Lottery alone, they have to jump on the bandwagon……and as for their ridiculous stab at Neighbourhood Watch……I couldn’t believe they way we were being bullied into coming along on their ludicrous summer outing…..and the way they’re so proud of helping out all of the elderly neighbours…..” I have to admit I tuned out so you’re only getting the jibes I remember.

I snapped back to attention however when she grabbed my arm and said “You must come to lunch. Today. I’ve got some soup I can reheat – homemade of course – and I see you’ve got a lovely French stick……”. Before I knew where I was I was being bodily dragged along the road. “I’m sorry but I can’t” I said firmly, skidding to a halt and snapping my French stick in the process. “But together we can outdo the Stewarts on every turn!” she said, eyes glinting rather demonically. I took three steps backwards, shaking my head. “I see” she sniffed, looking me up and down. I got the impression that she now regretted throwing all those compliments my way. “I see” she repeated.

“I’m sorry” I said and gathered my bags more comfortably in my hands. “I see” she said again, brushing down her neat beige twinset and patting her salt and pepper curls into place. We both stood there looking at each other before I remembered that I’d bought some brawn (eurgh!) for David from the butcher and it was now going all gloopy in my bag. As I turned away I caught sight of a stricken Marjorie on the opposite side of the road, looking at us both with a crushed expression on her face. I waved an Ayres carrier bag at her but she just looked down and rushed into the greengrocers.

Bugger!

Update, 4.40pm: I've just knocked on Marjorie's door with a lame excuse (did she have any cocoa powder, I ask you, pathetic) and was given the silent treatment with additional huge sad eyes. I hate, hate, hate feeling like I've let anyone down and started babbling about how I was hijacked and then practically forced to go home with Belinda to lay down her plans for Avenue Domination. I admit I over egged the pudding slightly in that I said that I was far more vociferous in my refusals and of course grassed up Belinda Hall totally and pledged my troth to the Stewart Cause. I may regret this of course. In fact, I know I will.

Turf war

After just five minutes in the Stewarts cluttered cosy living room I wished I was tackling the mound of washing up I’d left David to do. It was that bad. Frank expressed extreme delight at the sight of me on his doorstep but admonished me for forgetting my agenda. “You’ll have to share!” he boomed as he frogmarched me into the living room and all but threw me on the sofa next to Alice Three Doors Down. Things had changed since my last meeting: the committee (Frank, Marjorie, Mike Robinson and Jill With The Purple Door) sat at the dining table and peered down at the rest of us. It seems that I have relinquished my role of Deputy Community Activity Organiser to Jill. And I didn’t even notice. I’d just about given up on Jane Opposite and Jack Next Door turning up (Ruby Over The Road was neatly ensconced in the corner with the yukka) when they arrived, like naughty school children, with a bag of pick n mix sweets from the corner shop.

Frank fixed us all with his beady eyes and welcomed us all. “Lots of familiar faces” he crooned as he took in Amy On The Corner, Scary Bloke with the Rottweiler, Mary Three Doors Down, The Woman with the Hat, Timid Tina and Susan at Number 30 with the baby. “And some old faces returning!” he boomed at me, Jack, Ruby, Jane and Mrs Satinder With the Persian Cat. Marjorie fixed the room with a death stare “And a new face” she hissed, just like James Bond would have greeted his arch enemy. The new face turned out to be Belinda Hall (“she’s moved into end house on the corner” Alice Three Doors Down said and simpered “welcome!” to Belinda which earned her a filthy look from Marjorie.

Frank thought it best to move swiftly on. The minutes of the previous meeting were touched upon and thanks passed to Old Mrs Lazenby who had provided fairy cakes for the meeting. Agenda item one was the increase in litter in the area – “additional road sweepers seem to encourage people to drop more litter because they know it's going to get picked up” twittered Susan at Number 30. Agenda item two, parking issues, was a touchy subject. “People with more than one car,” Frank began eyeing me a little too beadily “Should respect those with just one car and not park both of their cars together”. Jane Opposite snorted with derision. “Listen darlin’, I’ve got a 4 x 4 and my Bill’s got a Porsche, we want them where we can see ‘em”. Jill With The Purple Door, who was obviously still simmering over the recent incident, suggested that Jane show more respect for the rest of the Avenue by “not revving your monstrosity up each and every morning”. Just as it looked evident that the fingernails were coming out, Frank changed the subject, telling Marjorie to mark it down as “ongoing” in the minutes.

The summer outing was touched upon briefly and got little or no support from the gathered masses, especially when Scary Bloke with the Rottweiler (he’s actually quite sweet, Mac adores them both) asked if he could bring Messiah with him. As Messiah is a ten stone Rotty with halitosis I was hoping the answer would be no. Marjorie averted the certain storm by saying that it would be addressed “at the next meeting”. Alice Three Doors Down sniffed “No wonder nothing is achieved at these things” as she shoved a macaroon into her mouth.

The newsletter was equally well received. Frank’s suggestion that he write, produce and distribute it was met with complaints that it’d then be extremely biased and how the hell could one person reflect the views of the entire Avenue. It was a pity then that there were no volunteers when Frank asked for volunteers. I kept my eyes down at this point: he knows we have a colour printer and scanner. We then discussed various random things, including the possibility of setting up an Avenue Ramblers Association which would “take in local walks of interest”. Timid Tina seemed quite intrigued at this and said she’d investigate further and report back. Marjorie reported that, as no-one had won the last three Saturday Bonus Ball Lottery games, she would put the money towards the summer outing. Ruby Over The Road had beaten me to it and looked as if she were asleep.

All through the dreadful hour and a half Marjorie didn’t exchange words or looks with Belinda Hall, other than the hissed comment at the very start. Once everyone had gone and Jane and I were making our own escape, Marjorie let rip. Apparently Belinda Hall is trying to muscle in on the Stewarts territory by arranging coffee mornings and doing odd jobs for the elderly residents. “Twice she’s been to Morrison’s for Old Mrs Lazenby and she’s only been here since last weekend!” Marjorie huffed. “I wouldn’t mind but she shouldn’t have even been here! Her garden only backs onto The Avenue, her house sits on The Road. Cheeky upstart, who does she think she is?” she continued as she expertly wrapped a macaroon each for David and Mac in yards of clingfilm. Frank patted her on her shoulder and leered at her heaving bosom.

There may be trouble ahead!