I remember the first time I had to change schools. Most kids stay in the same primary/junior school to the age of 11 when they saunter off into the big bad world of secondary education to be let loose on society, succumb to peer pressure and fall in with bad crowds. I on the other hand was a lot younger.

It was 1985 and I was 4 years old and until that point had been attending “Ashmore Park Nursery” the local nursery school, and I was happy. I had friends at school and at home I was wrapped in bubble of perfect family life with a mom, a dad and a baby sister, which lets face it is all a 4 year girl old really needs, loving parents and a baby to play dolly with. Then early one January morning I was rudely awoken while it was still dark outside whisked off to my aunts house and put back to sleep in a huge bed, bigger than the one I was used to sleeping in. I remember thinking it was some big adventure I sat awake for a while listening to the noises drifting in from outside. There was people coming and going and a hum of activity I knew something big was happening but at 4 I had no idea just quite how life changing that hive activity was for me!

At some point in the night, probably no more than a few minutes after being put there (but at that age it felt like forever) I fell back to sleep and woke the next morning to world drastically altered from the one I knew the day before.

I can’t remember much of that day except at some point my mom appeared looking disheveled, tired and wrought with emotion and I was ushered into the lounge from the kitchen/diner and told to sit down. The details of the conversation elude me but the basics of it stuck with me forever “Daddy was poorly last night, we had to take him to hospital and now he’s gone to live with the angels up in heaven.”.

I can’t remember much of the weeks that followed, unsurprisingly I can’t even remember what happened next that day. I have a vague recollection of going to stay with my Nan and Grandad, and not going home for a long time, but long in a 4 year olds terms and long now at 26 are surely 2 different things so it may have only been for a week or two rather than the months it felt, and lots of people crying. In fact I only really have 3 events that stick in my mind from that period of time 1. Having to move house, My mom didn’t want to stay in the house she’s shared with my dad as it was too tough for her to deal with the memories so we moved, 2. Going out with my Mom and “Uncle” (he doesn’t like being called uncle now I think it makes him feel old) Peter to buy bunkbeds as a bribe to convince me that it was a good idea to move house “because now you get to share a room with your baby sister and you get a cool new bed” and 3. Starting a new school closer to the new house.

My new school, Danesmore Park, was just around the corner from us, my garden at the new house backed onto the playground it was that close and I remember being able to hear the school bells and the children playing on the playground from my bedroom. Although I can’t remember if we’d actually moved into that house or were still living at my Grandparents waiting to move in on my first day there, I do know exactly what happened in my first 10 minutes after walking through the door.

I can’t work out if the apprehension I felt about starting there was nervous or excited energy, or more likely a bit of both but I walked through the door into the entrance hall and took my coat off, my Mom hovered in the background whilst my new teacher, Mrs Whitehouse (who was also the blonde kids first teacher when he started at the same school many years later) showed me my coat peg and ushered me through the doorway and into the classroom. A sea of faces looked up at me from the book corner where they were sitting waiting for the register and I remember feeling a little out of place until I spotted one familiar face in all those expectant smiles. Hayley Foster.

Her family lived half a dozen doors away from my Grandparents and while I’d been staying there dealing with the aftermath of my fathers death we’d struck up a friendship, We would often play in her, or my grandparents gardens building castles out clothes racks and old blankets, or colouring in pictures sharing our pencil crayons and arguing over the black one. I always insisted on starting my pictures with the black first, this really frustrated Hayley as every self respecting 4 year old knows you use the black last! I homed in on that girl like a heat seeking missile and announced to my teacher, my mom and anyone else that would listen I’m going to sit by HER, pointing at Hayley.

Once registration was over I followed Hayley over to her table to start our day, sat down and in that instant set a precedent that would last a lifetime I introduced myself to everyone around that table and proceeded on to the rest of the class. Even now in any work or social situation if there is somebody I don’t know in the room/at our table I feel compelled to introduce myself and find out at least their name within the first 15 minutes of being in their company I’m sure some psychologist would point out it was some kind of defense mechanism for detracting my fears of being accepted or some such nonsense I just call it being friendly!

I have no idea what happened for the rest of that day, in fact I don’t think I even have anymore real memories of that year or the next of school. It’s funny how selective your memory can be, I didn’t even realise I remembered that much about starting at Danesmore until recently when I started talking to the blonde kid about starting his new school and it seemed to open a flood gate and it all came rushing back.

Jordan, until this summer had also been attending Danesmore Park, although he started there even younger than I was, attending the Mother and Toddler group first and then joining the nursery, where he made a group of friends that would be in every class with him for the next 5 years. He can’t remember most of this. His passage into this school wasn’t marked by anything as traumatic as a death in the family nor did we have any of the usual anxiety of “Will he make friends?, Settle in o.k?” as he already knew a good 75% of the children and was familiar with his surroundings from the Mother and Toddler group. He relished being in school using his time there as an opportunity not only to learn new skills but also to socialize and soak up all the deluge of new experiences being thrust in his direction. It was a perfect introduction into the education system. It’s a shame the council can’t see how important these foundations are when they storm in and close schools down.

So they’ve closed Danesmore and for the first time in his life Jordan has had to go into a situation that he was not 100% familiar with all by himself. He has started a new school, and It’s got me to wondering, What memories he will take away with him from this transitional period??

Luckily for him there are 4 other children in his class that he’d attended Danesmore with so he didn’t turn up on the first day all by himself with no clue to how he was going to get through the day, So I can’t see him looking back on the first day and remembering a feeling of dread of stepping into the unknown.

Maybe his only memory will be of the girl in his class who on the first day said she fancied him and “I didn’t even know her name!”. Maybe it will be of the teacher, Mr Tennant, who was rather bemused when a small blonde boy approached him on the first day and asked “Do you play Dr Who?” and replied “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to play that ask one of the others!”. Obviously he’s not update with popular television so not seeing the logic of a 7 year old putting 2 and 2 together and it being a natural assumption that when your new teacher has the same name as a the actor who at the same time is playing your most “favourite t.v character EVER” they could quite possibly be one and the same. Maybe it will be of the flowers the teachers had given all new pupils to welcome them into the school, they had quite an influx of new students with the closure of danesmore from parents who like me didn’t want to send them to the local authorities idea of an alternative.

Or maybe in 20+ years time, he’ll be keeping a blog all of his own and be recounting his first day in school in his new school in much more detail like I just have while sitting wondering what his children will remember about their first day at school.

I was going to blog about the blonde kids first few days at his new school but it seemed like a mammoth task by the time I actually sat down in front of the computer so instead you get this. You get to hear me complain about the lurgy. The pangs, the pains and general suffering of this neurotic 26 – nearly 27 *sobs* year old.

I’m ill. It’s after 3pm on a lovely sunny afternoon and I’ve just (well 20 minutes ago) got back out of bed, I’ve slept, taken pills and then slept some more…

It started when I woke yesterday morning with a dizzy incoherent sickly spaced out feeling, accompanied by a headache which kind of improved over the course of the day. It progressed overnight so I woke this morning with a full family of wood peckers inside my head, pecking away at my eyes from the inside trying to find an escape route. My head felt like my brain was trying to force it’s way through my sinuses. My body aches and is alternating between wanting to expel my stomache through the nearest available orifice and feeling weak and sick with hunger. Not that I’m actually hungry – I have eaten my body just doesn’t feel like it has!

So I’m off work. I was yesterday and again today and the only plus side I can find is I got to supervise the construction of my new blog. It’s something I’ve been wanting to get around to doing for ages and Jamhead (that’s James to everyone else) promised to help me with the move from the old site to here. Mainly because he’s better at these things than me and in part because I was too damn lazy to do it myself.

So yesterday in my weakened state from a chair by his side he worked hard to import all my old posts while I sat and bitched and whined about it not working right ( not that I’d actually tried it out at that point) it not looking right (my own fault for choosing a theme that needed lots of tinkering) and it not being fair that I felt ill (something he really had no control over) but bless his heart. He sat and listened and placated and cajoled me into a better place and build my blog, all the while striving to complete his own work at the same time.

So this is our home for the foreseeable future. What do you think? I will redecorate at some point with a new banner all of my own making – or maybe  using this one as a base. I will get round to adding all my links and working on my “about” page, but for now “it’ll do” as all my energy needs to be spent getting well again!!

For six weeks every summer there is a little know species that takes over the streets of the U.K. they roam in packs hunting food, friends and fun like wolves in the wild. The survival of the fittest is the way of the world with those with superior personalities
having the greater impact on the social circle of these wondering things. They come in all different shapes and sizes. Any age boundaries built up during the course of the rest of the year are broken down as they mingle freely….the name of this species “Humanous Youngous”.

They are built to be omnivores although some at the insistence of there family groups do become herbivore and forgo the delights of meat and it seems for the last 3 weeks of this 6 week period a good proportion of these beings could be found frequenting my house……

I think I fell asleep one night and awoke in a youth club. In any one 24hour period we could have had anything from 1 to 12 little people through our front door, sometimes in the company of responsible adults but more often than not just just in the company of even more little people.

The most consistent visitors being the 3 vagrants from across the road, Shannon, Jordan and Conner and the blonde kids best friend from 5 doors down Craig.

Then in addition to this motley crew there was Chloe, Leah and their baby sister Keira from round the corner. Josh and his sister Grace from just down road. Then yesterday we also had Thomas (my nephew) Sophia (our cousin) some skater punk called Harry and a girl (I secretly think Jordan has a crush on) Nicole who recently play Joseph in her school play (see previous blog) and is very excited to be starting senior school today (definitely better stay a secret crush she’s way too old for him!)

We had lots of fun in the holiday and in the gaps in his diary between visiting family (he spent 3 weeks with his Dad) and his busy social calender we also managed to….

Decorate the blonde kids room…

Plenty of trampolining…

Dinners out with friends…

(Trust Jordan to find the best looking woman in the resturant to fall asleep on!)

Trips to Brighton….

Trips to Ikea

Also we had a trip to Silverstone, BBQs with friend (20 of the damn things in my back garden 23 if you count us, 25, if, as Jordan insists, you include the rabbit and the cat) build new bookcases, move in new office furniture, redecorate the bathroom, visit James parents and my parents, help Stat move house, go to gigs, shop for new school uniform for a brand new school and in amongst all this found time to do the normal mundane everyday stuff like WORK!So not much really.

The kids (well my kid) went back to school today and for the first time since, well since it feels like forever the house is quiet. There is no one running up/down the stairs. Nobody knocking the door, shouting in the garden, jumping on the trampoline, arguing over the Playstation/Wii/football/particular chair/T.V channel/what game to play or piece of fluff on the floor because “I was there/saw it first”.

Nobody asking “Can I stay for dinner?” or “Can I come and play again tomorrow?”. Nobody laughing or giggling, nobody shouting or crying, just the sounds of the world drifting in from outside and “The New Amsterdams” playing on Itunes…

…Roll on 3:20 when I can fetch him from school, I miss them all already!!

It’s oh so quiet
shh shh
It’s oh so still
shh shh
You’re all alone
shh shh
And so peaceful until…

Well actually until nothing, I’m home alone. The blonde kid went to his dads last Monday so has been gone one whole week so far…only one more to go. I’ve not fully appreciated how quite it is without him until tonight.

I am tired from working too many days without a break, James has gone to “rehearsal” (i say it in inverted commas as rehearsal for what I’m not sure, they’ve had ONE gig in the bands history and that was 21months ago, and to my knowledge they don’t have another planned yet) so I’m tired and alone and have nothing to do but I can’t sleep because if i do now then I’ll wake up later and not be able to sleep then so I’m sitting here at the computer and its QUIET. So quiet that the silence is deafening me!

*yawn* i want to sleep! 🙁

Why if a shop is going to be robbed I’ll be the one walking past as the robbers make their escape brandishing shotguns and nearly running me over with their get away car(true).

Why if someone is going to have a heart attack and die in a shop they are standing behind ME in the queue (true and only 2 bloody days after the robbery)

WHY if someone is going to collapse on the bus with some medical emergency they’ll be sitting on the seat behind me and the rest of the passengers on the bus will, with all good intentions, make matters worse (YOU DO NOT GIVE CPR TO A MAN WHO’S HAVING A FIT MORON) (also true)

Why if the end of the world is about to come down on us at lightening speed, bring plagues of locusts or whatever the hell the end of the world will bring, will I be there with front row seats and a VIP pass (not true but it could happen)

Why does this sort of thing keep happening to me and why oh why has it happened again!! I suppose I should start at the beginning.

Saturday I had to go work in Stafford again, and again it rained and rained and rained, flooding parts of the rail and road networks and delaying all my trains again. (Please take note of the amount of times the word “AGAIN” crops up, I swear the weather gods know when I’m due to visit Stafford, rain has become synonymous with any time I have to spend there usually accompanied by much flooding!)

So just to start the day I had to spend best part of an hour supping lukewarm coffee in the driving rain on platform 1 of Wolverhampton Rail Station while awaiting news that ANY train that would take me in the direction I wanted to go would be running, finally manage to get onto a train to Manchester that would be stopping in Stafford and arrive at work VERY late and VERY wet and not actually knowing if I’ll manage to get home that evening, It still hadn’t stopped raining and with the delays already in place who would know what I’d face on the return journey….It turns out this was the least of my troubles!

The rest of the day at work went by quite smoothly the broken guttering that had caused the shop to flood the last time I was there had been fixed and appeared to be working just fine and as ever the management and staff I was working with made me feel very welcome. the day flew by and before I knew it, it was time to go home.

I was actually going to Walsall that night and not straight home, and with all the rain during the day closing the line between Walsall and Wolverhampton when I arrived at Stafford Station I had a choice to make. Get a train to Wolverhampton and bus it from there to Walsall, Get a train to Birmingham and then either change onto another train or bus it to Walsall, Or take the direct train from Stafford which does take about an hour but would cut the need for any changes….how I wish I’d have taken either of the first two options.

I got on direct train and settled down with book in a seat near to the doors, as having never taken this train before I wasn’t 100% sure how long it would take to get where i needed to be so hence when to get off. All went fine other than non-urgent need for the bathroom and the couple with the annoying kids who insisted on blowing whistles just further down the carriage until we arrived at Hednesford Station.

With much fanfare Mr and Mrs “Annoying kids” attempted to leave the train, With Mr “Annoying Kid”s first helping the two irritants off the train and on to the platform when WHAM, two kids on platform and Mr “now not so annoying but very panicky kids” suck half on and half off the train….

The doors had closed on his neck…his body was still aboard, but his head was protruding out the other side and Mrs “I haven’t got a fucking clue what to do”, standing behind him not trying to get out another door to see if her kids, who by all appearances looked about 2 and 3years old respectively, we’re ok as they were standing there screaming at the spectacle of their father stuck in a train door alone on a station platform or even offer any assistance to her ailing partner who is turning a lovely shade of crimson…

Myself and a girl sitting opposite me jump up, she runs down the carriage to find help while I hit the alarm and grab one half of the sliding doors and PULL with every ounce of strength I have. It moves about 2 centimeters and it takes all my effort to hold it there, releasing some of the pressure on the poor blokes neck and I find myself shouting at Mrs fucking useless to grab the other and “HELP ME DAMMIT!!” She does and with both of us pulling on opposite doors they suddenly give and slide open freeing her long suffering partner. I stand with my foot in the door over the sensor to stop them from closing again while she jumps from the carriage to comfort her distraught children and shout at Mr “Unlucky” not to forget her shopping…poor bastard.

Now I’m sorry but if that was me I’d have hung around and screamed holy blue murder at the idiots responsible for the train, and would have demanded, well i don’t know what I’d have demanded but I sure has hell wouldn’t have disappeared out of the station like that pair did! I removed my foot from the door and it slammed shut again and I returned to my seat just in time for the return of “the other girl” accompanied with the conductor.

I can’t say that man inspired me with any confidence to travel by train again, first of all he didn’t believe us when we said that there had been somebody stuck in the doors, then he insisted that the doors were open “because his panel said so” despite standing less than 2 feet from the now closed doors that I had previously been holding open. Then after going to examine his obviously oh so accurate control panel returns and tells us we “Can’t go anywhere as there appears to be something wrong wrong with the train” NO SHIT SHERLOCK. Even better he then asks “Have any of you pulled any levers or anything?”

Er yeah, that would be me and the alarm you moron.

It was very comforting to know that our train manager had enough know how to understand that when an alarm has been activated the train ain’t going nowhere and even more comforting to know that the alarm hadn’t even registered when I pulled it.

He resets the alarm after we’ve been sitting in the station for nearly 20 minutes, phones maintenance for advise on how to proceed, checks the doors, then eventually were on our way without even a warning about maybe using another set of doors to depart the train when we reach out destination, or an apology for the delay. All this took place to the soundtrack of some ignorant twenty something idiotic excuse of a man running his mouth off at the driver, and everyone else who would listen about how he’d “sue the train driver if it were him and when the fuck are we going to get going as I’ve got places to be man!” Finally I reach Walsall 2 hours after leaving Stafford and not wanting to tempt fate leave the train by another set of doors further up the carriage with a headache and a now more urgent need to go to the bathroom.

Luckily I didn’t need to use anymore public transport that evening as I had a lift arranged from the station to James parents house so while awaited the arrival of Rob and Al, I ran into the station to use their facilities to find them “Closed due to Vandelism”

WHY ME GOD DAMMIT!!

Monday we had the announcement that the school had been giving one terms reprieve and would definitely be closed by January 2008 so having made the decision there are then that Jordan wouldn’t be going back September as not to upset another school year it was with a heavy heart I went to the school Tuesday morning to see his last ever school play there.

It was his class assembly and they’d chosen to give a performance based on what they’d been learning in history this last term, and decided to depict the lives of children waiting to be evacuated during the second world war. It was really good with several children including Jordan singing songs all by themselves and everyone was feeling upbeat until they sang the final piece of the morning….Vera Lynn “We’ll meet again”

We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when,
But I know we’ll meet again, some sunny day.
Keep smiling through, just like you always do,
‘Til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away.

It was all a bit too poignant, I held it together quite well until I turned to my friend beside me who met my smile with tears streaming down her face and that set me off, but we weren’t the only ones….teachers were in tears, other parents were in tears and some of the older kids grasping the significance of the song were sitting sobbing too, but not for too long. Courtney one of the little girls in my sons class bless her heart was singing at the top of her voice, not really appreciating the emotion of the song and the louder she got the more out of tune she got and she just kept on going giving it her all until finally the whole room was laughing along!

I left there feeling upbeat to go to work, only to be accosted en route by the most lovely lady who was a dinner assistant at Danesmore at the same time I attended who proceeded to tell me what an injustice the closure was and what she’d like to say to Phil Bateman (a local councilor) if she caught hold of him. Needless to say it did nothing to improve my mood and by the time I finally got to work I was ready to burst into tears again, it didn’t last long. I’d been through the doors a matter of seconds when my manager says “Maybe this will cheer you up” and put in front of me a new contract to sign, A contract I’d been waiting for since LAST August I FINALLY GOT MY PROMOTION woo.

Tuesday evening saw us back at the school for the “Juniors” production of “Joseph and his Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat”, it was the final performance of the show and was absolutely fantastic considering they were only 9, 10 and 11 year olds and had only about 6 weeks to prepare. I was very impressed but rather perturbed as I was never aware that Joseph was a cross dresser?? (He was played by a girl in a skirt!!) At times emotions were wrought as teachers were escorted from the hall in tears as the hard work put in by the kids and displayed on stage just epitomized what the school was all about, but the kids coped amazingly and even during the technical failings of a over heated computer system they performed impeccably!

Wednesday was the leavers disco, normally held in honor of year six who would be moving up to senior school, this year it was one hell of a bash for the entire school and to make it as memorable as possible I took a bottle of vodka to share with James and Shelly, Justine took a bottle of Rum (which he shared with me) and other parents took there own beverage of choice with various mixers, technically we’re not supposed to drink on school premises but what they going to do?? Expel our kids and close the school…too late for that,
So in typical school disco fashion the kids ran and danced and laughed and partied, and in our corner of the school hall we ran and danced and laughed and partied also, It was good fun, upsetting at the end when the kids all cried and sang you’ll never walk alone but at that point suitably numbed by alcohol me and Shelley just clung to each other with snotty noses and watering eyes declaring it all a scandal while James and Jay (Shelly’s other half) looked on and rolled their eyes at us!!

Thursday was strange, I went to the school straight from work, over an hour early so that I could spend some time in Jordan’s classroom join in with the fun with the kids and say a proper goodbye to his teachers. It was a strange end that left me feeling, well empty.

I arrived at the school and went straight into class where immediately we went to the hall for a final assembly. Mr Snell (the head teacher) gave a short speech thanking every one for their support in the last few months, announced that the school would be closing that very day and not reopening as Danesmore in September to give the kids a fair chance at settling in their new schools and that he would be retiring. A few achievement awards were handed out a few tears were spilt and every child in attendance was given a plaque to commemorate Danesmore, a DVD of “Joseph” and a very touching goodbye. And then that was it….Everyone went home.

After the frivolities of the rest of the week it was very anti- climatic. Lots of parents had gathered expecting, well I don’t know what we were expecting really but there was nothing. We couldn’t find people we really wanted to speak to and wish well among the hoards and finally as the crowds abated and a hush settled it was like a full stop at the end of a very long story, It all felt so final.

It was very strange walking away from the school for the very last time that afternoon!!

We won the battle but lost the war!
We fought to the last and we’ve managed to convince the school adjudicator that this September was a stupidly short time frame to be looking to close Jordan’s school when the end of term is this Thursday SO it’s NOT gong to close this September……They’ve given us a whole extra term until the beginning of Jan 08 to find places for all the kids that will be displaced and close then instead.

That’s it fight over…..we have no where left to go.
We’ve taken our fight as far as we can. I’ve lost count of how many consultations periods we’ve been through and and council meetings called. Luckily I had the foresight to find a school to provisionally book a place for Jordan should this happen and so from September he will be attending St Albans CofE .

I don’t think it is fair to leave him in Danesmore for the last term and move him half way through a school year. He’s been through 9 months of uncertainty with which he has coped brilliantly BUT it would be unfair to let it continue. I am not the only parent with this train of thought and know of a few other children from Jordan’s class who will be moving with him and others that will be leaving to go to other schools in ad around the area we live.

Jordan has already visited St Albans to see what it’s all about and although in quite out of character fashion he refused to speak to anyone while there, students and teachers alike, he is quite looking forward to the change and the opportunity to meet new friends and I was encouraged at the diversity of education and opportunities provided after my conversation with the head mistress so it’s not going to be the end of the world.

Now for the absolute brilliant fantastic super marvelous news.
On Friday I received Jordan’s (what i now know to be) final school report from his teachers at Danesmore oh my god, OH MY GOD….I couldn’t be any prouder of him!!

FIRST there was the 1 – 5 ratings. In Maths, Science, English and ICT there is one score for the entire subject and for all other areas there is individual scores for each benchmark reached and goal achieved. Overall there is 39 areas covered So, with one being bad and five being really really good, he achieved 37 Five ratings and 2 Fours….

THEN because English, Maths, Science and ICT are the most “important” subjects you get a more comprehensive breakdown on the individuals achievements, I wont bore you with everything that was included just the last few words on each subject, and I’ll only have to put them once as it was the same for every subject….

In the section for teachers comments this is what was put;

And still there is more….
Included in with his report were his results for his End of Key Stage 1 Teacher Assessment (SATs to you and me) He was aiming to reach level 2 in all areas, his results were as follows..….

What could I say to that??
How proud am I, I never force him to do anything he really doesn’t want to do. I never push him to excel himself but always encourage to try his best and always remind him that no matter what he does or doesn’t achieve as long as he’s tried his best than that’s good enough for me!

I would much prefer an average performer with good results that’s happy, than an over achiever with BRILLIANT results that’s unhappy. I think I got lucky I have an brilliant child with brilliant results that is happy, and can take pride in his achievements because they are HIS he wasn’t pushed to do it, he wasn’t placed under any pressure he did this because HE wanted!!