Thursday 20 June 2019

Our new school routine means I'll have to become a morning person


Justine O'Mahony

And so it came to pass - I now have two children in secondary school. How the hell did that happen?

It seems like only yesterday I was packing their Peppa Pig lunchboxes and holding their hand whilst I walked them into class. It's like I turned away for a minute and they've grown up on me, all bolshie, opinionated and independent. I don't know where they get it from!

This next stage is all very exciting and everything but logistically a bit of a pain in the a*** as their schools are on opposite sides of town.

This means Himself gets to drop The Eldest off on his way to work and I have the pleasure of trekking the whole way across town in back to back traffic to transport the almost 13 year old.

What's the big deal you may ask? Surely thousands of other parents are in the same boat. I'm sure they are. The thing is. Since I gave up working in an office. (OK since I stopped working full stop) I have let the aesthetic side of things slip a little!

I am NEVER cosmetically acceptable before 10 a.m. Not only am I not cosmetically acceptable early in the morning, I'm also not socially acceptable. I would bite the head off you if you dared speak to me before 8.30 a.m. and I am incapable of stringing a sentence together. Small talk I can do...just don't ask me to do it before breakfast.

Our new routine however has meant that I have to be up and dressed (dressed?! The torture of it), looking half way sane and out the door for 8.15 am.

Then The Youngest wants to do a running commentary of her day to come in the car while I pretend to be interested. I mean I AM interested. Just not at 8 am.

The first few days I was like a zombie. I felt like I'd been hit by a ton of bricks. I drove through a red light, missed the turn off and ended up on the ring road to Cork. By Friday I decided if I pretended to be a 'Morning Person' then maybe I would become one.

'Good morning, good morning!' I sang as I bounced into the kitchen where they were having their breakfast. 'How is everybody this morning?' They eyed me over their cereal bowls. 'Mam, are you drunk?' asked The Eldest.

'Don't be ridiculous.! It's 8 a.m. That's even too early for me!'

I lashed the sandwiches into the lunchboxes, threw in a few bars and a token piece of fruit which they never eat, but sure you have to be seen to be 'health conscious,' in as well and off we went. Every day for five days. Return trip takes approximately 40 minutes. By 11 am I feel like I've done a full day's work!

'How long do I have to do this for?' I groan to Himself.

'… till 6th year'


New Ross Standard