I have a confession to make, the title of this post probably gives it away, but I’ll press on nonetheless… I’ve been faking being a normal school mum.
From the moment I nonchalantly get out the car with Harry, Tallulah, wheelchair, walker, backpack, phone, keys etc etc smiling breezily like my heart isn’t going a hundred miles an hour worrying whether T is going to bolt into the car park, I’m going to drop my carefully constructed tower of paraphernalia or H is going to sob the whole way to the classroom for a reason I can’t figure out.
And to the moment when I collect H, casually chatting to the other mums hoping that they don’t pick up my desperate attempt to figure out exactly what their kids are telling them about school, friends, what they’re learning or anything really and followed by my very brief chat to H’s lovely teacher who then makes her way through the other parents and I stroll away hoping that I appear totally calm whilst my insides are churning with not knowing exactly what Harry did every single second of the day. Did they use his talker? How many times? Did he pay attention? Did they figure out how to model during drama? Who did he play with? What exactly did he do? AAAAARRRGGH!!!!
At around 1am one night, a time when all the best ideas pop up because one’s mind is so calm and peaceful (ahem), it occurs to me… I should just chat to his teacher and see if they can set up a nanny cam in the classroom so that I can see what’s going on. Actually no, better to just skype me in during the day so I can give immediate feedback if they’re struggling with ideas on helping Harry to attend or how to model best. No scrap that, why don’t I just come in. I could sit in a corner quietly, they won’t even know I’m there. It’ll be great.
Yes, 1am, when all the most clear-sighted and rational ideas are conjured up.
So who is this ‘normal school mum’ that I thought I should be especially considering that I loathe the term normal. What on earth does it even mean and who on earth could possibly represent it? I have no idea, but in my hope to try and get through the first term of mainstream school, I imagined an image of her and thought that she is who I should be.
As the weeks went by and I started chatting more and more to the school mums and dads and seeing what was going on for everyone else, the idea of a ‘normal school mum’ started to crack…
The worry about H not divulging his school day to me and assuming it was because he couldn’t tell me on his device eased. As it turns out, the standard answer to what did you do at school today is ‘nothing’, the answer to how was school today is ‘fine’ and finally the answer to who did you play with is ‘no one’. Phew.*
The pieces of ‘normal school mum’ continued to fall away as I watched my fellow school mums and dads struggling with crying kids, getting called in for playground incidents and lurking around the classroom looking to corner the teacher for insight and reassurance.
The final piece of ‘normal school mum’ disintegrated when, towards the end of term, I was chatting with a group of parents waiting to collect our kids and one of the dads said “Don’t you just wish they had a camera in the classroom so you could see what they get up to all day?” (Ha, if he only knew!) But I wasn’t alone, there was a collective sigh of relief and much hilarity as we all sheepishly confessed our agreement.
And so on the eve of the start of term 2, there are no preconceptions of how I should and shouldn’t be or what I should and shouldn’t feel. The only faking going on around here will be the filters on my pictures!
*That phew is relief that when he gets home and doesn’t feel like talking to me that it’s all fairly typical. I will still try to help him along by giving him the words he might need to tell me what happened, for when he is in the mood to chat, or to tell me to ‘go away’ as the case may be!