Stop the clock

Well, that's the first week of school done, now for the next 12 years...

So far so good with Batboy; we've had highs (scootering to school in his "smart like daddy" uniform) and lows (falling off his scooter at the school gate and landing face down in front of all the other kids - too humiliating too soon).

We had another wobble when he said "what we doing tomorrow?" after day one, to which he got a pretty blunt "er, more school". At what point do you explain to a four-year-old he's actually been sucked head first into the ever-whirring cogs of the school machine, not to be churned out till 2022? Maybe next week.

It's all change for Diva too as she's started nursery, God help them. I feel a slight pang of guilt about how little they are paid to deal with little Miss Madam and her wild ways.

Her current heart-stopping trick is stealing eggs from the fridge and legging it to the far reaches of the house (targeting rooms with the most soft furnishings). I feel like some badly trained negotiator trying to talk her into handing over the egg-shaped time bomb, which she brandishes with glee.

Kids aside, I wasn't sure how I'd handle being a school-run mum. It's now against the law to phone the kids in sick because we didn't get out of our jimmers in time and/or decided to watch a Scooby Doo special. Don't think it would make Crimewatch but Nick Jnr's off limits till tea time to keep the fuzz off our back.

There's all sorts of events you have to remember as well; 'world book days', 'wear what you like days'. The last one is crucial as there's nothing worse then turning up in uniform only to find all your peers in their carefully chosen civvies, cursed to roam the corridors all day in a cloud of shame.

So I am currently trying to work out my neglected 'icalendar', bought a bedside clock, set my mobile alarm and a series of light sensitive alarm systems to avoid being the last family at the school gates.

My back-up plan for waking the kids is Grandpa's tried and tested technique, picked up during his stint in the American marines, where you gently press on someone's bladder to get them out of bed in the morning. This is highly effective but slightly risky on the bed-wetting front.

Ah well, even if our time-keeping fails and the odd event goes awol on the calender, at least we'll rock the egg and spoon race next summer!

Gone Insanesburys: Part 2

Click on the cartoon to have half a chance of reading it!

It's been a mix of success and and serious stumbling and falling on our arses the last couple of months. The success was two medals earned at the superhero fun run down on Brighton seafront - go team Briscoe!

Briscoe senior dusted down his Mr Incredible outfit (last seen at Batboy's third birthday in the park where it was met with a mix of confusion and suspicion).

Surprisingly, I fell victim to the first sports injury of the day by pulling a muscle in my back just pinning his race number to his suit. Elastigirl I am clearly not. After sourcing painkillers we staggered down to the seafront only to find the kids' race had already started. This actually worked in our favour as Batboy joined the fastest runners on their return lap. (A little trick I mastered at school, which backfired badly when I came fourth and landed myself a place in the long distance running team).

On the whole it was a great day and everyone felt like true champions. Sadly, we've since found out we've been total losers on the schools stakes and have to travel right across Brighton to the one we've been given by default, which is nice enough, just MILES away.

I'm now trying to work out which lap is the quickest so we can cheat our commuter competitors and defy space-time continuum so we can get Diva back in time for nursery. Batboy's not phased, his new superhero guise is 'Speedman', faster than Superman apparently but sadly he has no wheels, just a cape. Our chances of medal success are definitely slipping on this challenge.

The great escape

We've all had a big week-long adios to my friend Jess and her family who have gone on holiday for three months before being sucked into the school-system vortex.

Yes that is three months, not three weeks all-inclusive, proper pre-kids style traveling - with kids. Madness or genius, we've as yet to find out! 

I just remember her booking the trip all hazy-eyed and dreamily talking about drinks on the beach while the kids sleep in the camper van. Course they'll sleep I thought and not fight and/or trash the camper and/or eat their passports. Seriously though, he who dares wins. They'll have an amazing time. 

Talking of school vortex's I've been sucked head-first into the murky mire of school selections for Batboy next year. It seems like our school choice was actually - 0. So we're selling up and moving out. Looking round houses is every snoopy woman's dream but with batboy and diva (aka catgirl) in tow it's a race against time. Diva's thrown a face-down full-blown tantrum on the floor of a newly-converted coach house, locked herself into a good-sized bedroom and lifted various small artifacts. Batboy liked the house with incredible hulk gloves but came a cropper in an Edwardian money pit. Turns out periphery vision isn't very good in the bat mask as he walked square into a worm-riddled door frame. Cue more screaming and tears while an agent tries to push me for an opinion. We've all run screaming from a couple of homes but I think we've settled on one (the one with the hulk gloves, we're such sheep). Still doesn't completely solve the schools mystery, whoops, but it's got a lovely garden. I'll just be glad when it's over as the whole schools/house search has been eating into valuable Facebook time.