May. 24th, 2012

dorsetgirl: (DG1)
So far it's been a very non-routine day. Normally my kids get the train to school, but I have a policy that anyone taking an external exam has the right to a lift to school, by themselves, if they want it. Which oldest - having an AS Maths exam today - did. Middle and youngest both have school trips today, middle son's coach having to leave school at 8:30 on the dot. That only leaves ten minute's grace from the time he normally gets in, so I thought it best for him to have a lift in as well in case there was any problem with the trains. Luckily OH has very flexible working hours, so it's been in the diary for a week for him to take middle and youngest in while I took oldest.

Unfortunately oldest gets very unsettled by anything non-routine, and with two people going on trips, I swear he could feel the non-routineness of the day from his bed (the one he was still lying in half an hour before his designated leaving time).

Anyway, I finally got the younger two sorted to go. Youngest (blond, pale skin, sun-seeking instincts of a vampire) is on a Geography field trip which will have him in the midday sun for several hours - I wonder if it's only in England that you have to insist on high-factor suncream (forecast 26 degrees) and a waterproof jacket (possibility of heavy showers) for the same trip? (Yes, I do know the difference between Britain and England, but I'm thinking Scotland probably won't have the high temperature and for some reason I imagine Wales to be colder also).

Oldest finally wandered into the bathroom ten minutes before planned leaving time, to wash his hair. In the end we left at 8:25, and I was getting seriously worried about getting him there in time. The journey is nominally twenty minutes, but there are several extremely badly-phased sets of traffic lights which can push it up to thirty-five. Anyway, I got him there for ten to, which was OK. Twenty-five minutes of total silence broken only by his mate phoning to ask anxiously whether he was up yet.

On the way out through the former big-house park that his school shares with two other schools and a college, my car was stared at very beadily indeed by a officious-looking type with a hi-vis jacket and a clipboard. I have no idea what that was about - OK, I could have gone out another way, but I think I had every right to be where I was. I wish now I'd stopped and asked him if he had a problem, but I'd already had entirely too much human interaction for one morning so I just stared back as I drove past.

Then finally, as I queued up for one of the above-mentioned sets of lights, I saw a guy reclining on the grass on the other side of the road, displaying a small placard. He was 25-30, pleasant- and cheerful-looking and he didn't exactly look as if he was hitching a lift, so I looked more closely, and as I came alongside him I saw that his hand-written notice said, "FEMALE ARROGANCE SUCKS". Female arrogance exists?

So I gave him the finger, because he looked reasonable, and he smiled and reciprocated. What was that about? He definitely didn't look angry, or as if he'd been chucked out of his home or anything. Again, I wish now I'd stopped and asked, but talking isn't often my first reaction to something that puzzles me.

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dorsetgirl: (sunset)
My middle son has his Duke of Edinburgh Bronze practice expedition this weekend. When the older one did his expedition two years ago, I heard back from one of the dads that there really weren't enough checkpoints for safety because they didn't have enough volunteers. So when I got an email from the school asking urgently for more volunteers to run checkpoints, I straight away said yes, we would each do one day, and I assumed the only problem would be stopping OH taking over in his "I'm the man, this is a man's job" kind of way.

Not so. "Well, what does it involve? You don't want to be sitting in the middle of nowhere by yourself." I differ. I'd much rather I be sitting in the middle of nowhere by myself than my rather impractical, slightly clumsy, daydreamy middle son sitting in the middle of said nowhere by himself. And besides, what the hell do you think manning a checkpoint involves ffs?

"What time would it be? How many hours?" Well, I didn't bother asking, tbh. It's less than an hour away, and all I have in the calendar is do the washing and go to Waitrose. And if you have anything more important to do this weekend, perhaps you could have mentioned it before now?

"...because it's the Monaco Grand Prix, and I want to watch the qualifying on Saturday and the race on Sunday". Right. Because that's obviously more important than your son's safety, or supporting the school in providing this very useful and enjoyable activity.

I do know that it's only women who get the automatic personality transplant when a baby is born, but seriously, wtf?

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dorsetgirl: (Default)

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