Ramadan Kareem and happy new school year. In the oft forgotten years before having school-age children, my year began along with everyone else's, on Jan 1. But these days, mentally at least, it is the academic rather than the Gregorian calendar that governs my year, starting with the first day of the school year and ending with the last. I do however get a two-month bonus pause, aka the summer holidays, between each end and the next beginning.
As we staggered tearfully out of school at the end of June, September seemed so deliciously far away and everyone I knew needed a break and a complete cessation of normal routine. A month or so later, after the novelty had worn a little thin, the first day of term seemed frighteningly far away, but in the end, as usual it's hit us like a juggernaut and today I found myself yet again staggering tearfully out of school after depositing my charges into the education system for another school year.
My annual pledge to bring calm and order into our lives has failed earlier this year, long before the onslaught of clubs and after school activities throw us into turmoil. In fact we've been functioning in a loosely organised frenzy since returning to Abu Dhabi. Apart from the usual raft of play dates and shopping for school supplies, we've fitted in decorating, procuring furniture and moving eldest into her own room. Having nagged us for her own space for over a year, we were surprised when she spent her first night "alone" curled up at the bottom of youngest's bed.
Less surprisingly my quest to achieve supermum status, namely by catching up on school assignments - spelling and maths for the eldest; practicing phonics with the youngest; sending postcards to the teacher and goodness knows what else - somehow never really made it out of the in tray. And my best friend's casual remark the day before school started that her daughter had just completed a collage to present to her new teacher confirmed my suspicions. I am a chronic underachiever when it comes to supermumdom.
The new year didn't exactly get off to a cracking start either. Delayed by a couple of RTA diversions on route we eventually arrived at the junior block late, flustered and completely disorientated. Where was I supposed to deposit my brand new junior? Panic set in until I noticed her best friend in a moving line. So, without even a goodbye, I shoved eldest into the care of said best friend and marched youngest, who thankfully was attached to me like glue, to her quarters. The trouble was, after rather lengthy goodbyes I noticed as I exited the classroom, that she was in fact still attached to me like glue.
Friends asked if I'm sad or relieved the kids are back at school and I don't have an answer yet. I'm in shock. I hardly know who I am, let alone how I feel.