Day 75....Humpty Dumpty

I couldn't wait for lunch time today, I was soooo hungry my tummy was making those gurgling drain noises. I had it all planned out. Lunch from the work canteen and catch up on the weeks TV that I missed. My lunchtimes are my moments of bliss.

Everything was going to plan. The Mindy Project was on my computer ready to press play. My canteen fish and chips were steaming,smothered in tartar sauce and I couldn't have been happier.

And then I got the call.

''Its the school, Summers had an accident.....'' They never say that, they're supposed to say ''It;s the school don't worry Summers fine we just need to talk to you she's molested the caretaker....''
why wasn't she saying everything was fine?

''We've called an ambulance , she's had a fall and were quite concerned can you or someone get here as soon as possible''

This type of stuff doesn't happen to us, this was brand new territory. I have played these situations out in my mind before, I'd have done something like start crying and shaking, dramatically ran out of the office crying my baby my baby!!

what I actually did was ponder for a few seconds about whether I could finish my fish and chips. No lie. I actually thought about eating my lunch then heading off - I'd be useless in a crisis if I was hungry right?

I ended up stuffing the carton into my bag and eating it with my hands as I waited for the train to come and take me out of London.

I am clearly not right in the head.

The school called again
''the ambulance was there and an emergency response car, she'd passed out and they were having trouble keeping her awake, she'd been sick and wasn't talking''

It's then that panic really set in - the school were desperate for me to get there, I was still 40 mins away and I then realised how very alone Summer and I actually are, There's no family close by, no one who could have been with Summer until I got there. No one to hold my hand if things went wrong, my only comfort on the train was messaging with a friend in New York!
The call from school seemed so desperate - I thought maybe they weren't telling me the full picture.

I started thinking the worst, I spent all these years battling Summer, hiding from her, rolling my eyes at her, herbally sedating her.  What if this was it, what would my life be without her in it - yeah sure I'd fantasised about it. But the reality of it was heart breaking.

I don't remember getting to the hospital - just that first moment I saw her. In a neck brace on a spinal board strapped down. I felt like I was going to faint!
As soon as she heard me she cried and the doctors were telling her not to move but she wanted to see me - I couldn't get close enough to see her so just rubbed her foot. Nurses and doctors were in the room cutting the sticky tap off her head, slowly realising her from the board.
''on three we roll her on to the left, 1...2....3..roll!'' doctors checked her spine and neck.
Summer was grey with sick down her top. Jesus.
The doctors did all sorts of tests and Summer was so brave answering their questions through the tears.

Then she farted.

And that was the moment I knew she would be fine.

When the doctors left the room to check the x-ray Summer was OK enough to turn and talk to me.

''If I tell you something , you promise to keep it a secret'' she said
''I had 13 puddings at lunch, the dinner lady said we could have extras because they'd only have to throw it away, so I was running up to grab number 14 when I fell''

You see, what had actually happened was Summer had embarked on a competitive pudding eating competition with some friends and she was in the lead by one pudding cup. She ran to the canteen for number 14 but slipped on some soggy chips and fell back wards smashing her head onto a table.
She was sick because she had eaten 13 pots of ice cream, which then made her tired - so whilst they were waiting for the ambulance she decided it was best to have a little nap, and was actually quite annoyed that the PE teacher kept slapping her about the chops to wake her up.

''They said I couldn't move mummy! so what else was I supposed to do - I was tired and full''

The school obviously took this a concussion.

I could have totally eaten my fish and chips and caught up on the Mindy Project.

My dad made the 2hr journey up and came to collect us from the hospital a few hours later after the all clear from the doctors.
I decided to go to the shops and buy some cake - my dad had asked me to pick him up some vodka , to settle his nerves he said (issues)
No sooner had I stepped into Waitrose and grabbed a bottle of Smirnoff did I bump into a teacher from Summers school.
The last she saw of my daughter was passed out on the hall floor in the recovery position and here her mother was a few hours later clutching a bottle of vodka. We then embarked on a polite conversation about how Summer was as she eyed the bottle and judged me.

Awkward doesn't even cover it

I should have stayed and had my fish and chips.

Day 74 - Fairy

She woke me up yesterday – that never happens

She creepily snuck into my room and stared at me silently.

‘what’s wrong’? I asked

As soon as I said those words her face crumpled up and she started to cry.

‘I left it under my pillow and she didn't commmmmeee wahhhh waahhh’’  erggh  Monday mornings should never start this way.

I had no clue what she was on about or why she was so upset. She had something held tight in her hand  that I made her un-clench.

A molar – a big old nasty molar.  

Then I started putting the pieces of the jigsaw together. Her tooth must have fallen out and she put it under her pillow for the tooth fairy – who obviously didn't come. Jesus what happened to getting a head up!

‘why didn't you tell me? ‘’ I marveled at how she had managed to keep the excitement of losing her first molar all to herself since yesterday.

‘’It fell out at school, I wanted to  test to see if the tooth fairy was just you’’

I am always still so surprised that Summer still believes in Fairies, Santa , Easter Bunny ….her dad.

As you can imagine I haven’t been the most consistent over the years at keeping these magical mysteries alive.

There was the Easter when I completely forgot  which day you gave the eggs– by the time I remembered (on the Sunday) Tesco Express had sold out. So I simply didn't tell Summer it was Easter.

Then there was the following Easter where I’d slept in and forgot to lay out the eggs and only realized when Summer sat crying in the living room – I quickly dropped the bag of eggs out of my bedroom window to strategically land on the front door step, and then listen as Summer cried over a batch of broken Easter Eggs.

Many a Christmas had gone by with Summer finding her presents , or walking in on me wrapping them. The tooth fairy though  was probably my biggest parent nemesis. She'd lost 11 teeth so far and I could safely say the tooth fairy has  done her job properly about 5 times, the rest have been huge let downs, IOU notes, foreign money, a bar of 80% dark Green&Blacks, .

So no wonder Summer had chosen to test me and the tooth fairy ...... she was devastated, inconsolable that she hadn't come. I tried to give her explanations

‘Maybe they don’t like molars’’

‘’Maybe it was too windy for them to fly’’

‘’Maybe if you didn't sleep on the landing they’d know where to go’’

As she walked into school head held low – I vowed to try and keep these magical moments alive for as long as I could, The fairy would come that night.

So that night we tried again for the tooth fairy. Summer wrapped her tooth, stuck it under the pillow and I waited for her to go to sleep.

I totally fell asleep too – but by the grace of god at 4am I had a terrible wind induced stomach cramp and I was awake frantically searching the house for  something decent to stick under her pillow.  With no other option than a £20 note I snuck upstairs and placed the money under her pillow – having every intention to ‘borrow’ the money back off her in the morning.

The next day I woke up feeling relieved that I had done the decent thing for once – and Summer seemed happy too.

She was excited and nervous wondering what the tooth fairy had left her and wanted me to go look with her.  I fiend excitement too and made a dramatic act out of lifting the pillow.

I lifted one

I lifted two pillows

I searched a teddy bear

‘OHHHHHHHHHHH noooooooooo     wahhhhhwahhhhhh’ Summer cried

I moved the bed , looked under it…..where the heck was the £20 note!!!  

All that was under her pillow was her dirty molar!....crap I’d forgotten to take the tooth when putting the money down

Summer was in tears, devastated once more that she had been stood up.

I was completely baffled – where had his money gone. Was it all a dream, had someone sneaked into her room and took it….the cat maybe.

I was tearing apart her room, turning it upside down looking for my £20.

‘’Oh well’’ said Summer, who had seemed to have straightened herself out ‘’I guess we could try again tonight and see if she comes with something ‘’

She had the money – the devious cow had the money – and she knew that I couldn't say anything about  it because I wasn't the tooth fairy and I wasn't meant to know.

I knew that she knew, but we both couldn't say that we knew ………

This is war!

Day 73 ..... Little White Lies

'' We were a bit concerned last week after Summer mentioned something about home''

I am sat in the parent liaison officers room at Summers school.....Again

I feel numb, I cant believe I am here . again after so long and so quickly into the school year. I left Summer nervously in the reception area, she's as white as a sheet.
We were called 48hrs ago to come in and 'discuss some issues' which they couldn't explain over the phone. Never a good sign, So I had 48hrs to grill Summer. Try and get some answers so I could prepare myself.

When I asked her on Wednesday she couldn't think what it could be - I wanted to tie her to a chair in a dark room with a spotlight beaming on her whilst I blew cigarette  smoke in her face and showed her pictures of her toys - that she'd never see again unless she spoke.

I reeled off some possibilities

- Something you saw on the laptop?
- Something you saw in my bedside draw
- If I say the word Lube what does that mean to you?
- Something you did to the cat....hamster??

But nothing gave me even a glimmer of insight into what she had said at school. I went in unprepared.

Her teacher was with the Parent Liaison Officer - he looked really nervous, as if he'd been told all sorts of horror stories about me (Summers 'file' must be bigger than the Magna Carter).

''We were doing circle time - it's where we discuss our thoughts and feeling'' ohhhhh shit.
''we were discussing what made us sad and angry'' ohhhhhhh shit
''she said it makes her angry when... '' he looks so nervous - Jesus what has she said!!!
''well, you see, she said she gets upset that she has to sleep on the landing''

a deathly silence falls over the office.

and then I just burst uncontrollably into hysterics '' are you kidding me?????!!!!''

The teacher starts to giggle with me - he realizes this is silly , but he gets shot down by a searing look for the Parent Liaison Officer (stupid job title). Back to deathly silence.

''you don't believe her do you - you don't believe she has to sleep on the landing?''

I cant believe I have not slept in 48hrs because of this - I cant believe Summer has come up with this!

Then I remembered last week - the night before I went \away to Germany with the girls for a few days. The house was packed so I asked Summer to sleep on the sofa. She refused and threw a huge tantrum and set up camp on the landing - this is where the monsters cant reach her apparently. After an hour when she didn't get bored and give up I made her go downstairs to the sofa. She said she'd make me pay for this .... and she did.

Day 72 ....Read between the lines

You have to look at the benefits of your child having a learning difficulty like Summer does. There are some real advantages of having an illiterate 8 year old.

For example when it all gets a little too much you can write ‘’ When will this end!!’’ in your own blood on the kitchen wall and she is completely oblivious and unharmed by your outburst.

You can leave your phone unlocked, highlight key paragraphs in 50 Shades of Grey and watch Geordie Shore on mute with the subtitles on.

I resigned myself to the fact that Summer may never know what it is like to read a great book or text her friends at 100mph. But she had other skills that we could develop to get her places, and besides those shelves in Tesco’s don’t stack themselves!

But Summer was catching on that she was missing out.  I’d get a dirty text come through and laugh so loud that she’d want me to read it, or there would be an evil note pinned to the fridge for part-time dad ‘Go Jerk yourself back to Jamaica you C@*t’

She’d demand I read her everything – like I was her sight dog. 

I developed a real knack of thinking on my feet. 

‘ohhh that’s just a note for daddy telling him how much I love him and not to forget the milk’’

But she knew I was deceiving her.

So over the year she’d try and read everything, anywhere, any place. She’d be breaking down phonics at bus stops. Tackling sentences from TV ad breaks like that stammering kid off Educating Yorkshire, ‘’whore, whore whore whore ssssssss whore ssssss eeeeeee HORSE!!!!’

 She was determined to read. She was just not getting anywhere with it. Teachers said one day she’d just click. But it wasn't happening, her peers where coming home with huge chapter books and Summer was still entertaining Biff and CH Ch Ch Ch iiiiiiiiiii ppppppp books.  

I felt for her, because I had the same issues as a kid, as anyone who has read this blog more than once will realize I am dyslexic, but I had a mum who was a teacher and who could give me the time and patience I needed. Summer and I can’t read a book together without one of us feeling the need to knock back a shot and light up a fag.

So I left her to it – late at night with a torch under her sheets trying to read a Haynes mechanics manual from 1976. ‘Shhh shhh aaaaa fffff shhhh aaaaffffttt, shaft ,shaft BREAK SHAFT!’’

This went on and on well into the early hours, for weeks and months. My little stuttering, Tourette’s offspring next door in her room determined to read anything andeverything she could lay her hands on.

Things gradually improved for her, she got quicker and slicker with her reading.

Then one night … well it just clicked

‘’P P P Paul*, L L LLL Luke*, J JH JO JOH  John*’’ is she reading the bible again? Was she going to make me listen to all the disciples’ names? bloody salvation army!

Then I heard ‘’7 out of ten, 8 out of ten, 2 out of ten’’ (She’s better with numbers)  

She kept reading

‘’ furrr furrr first time weeeeeee d-i-d it’’ 

‘’Arr arrrms of a God t tttongue offff a…… th fir th thirsty dog’’

What the hell??

‘’so ggoooood I can’t wa walllk st str straii straight’’

Huh? This isn't the manual book

‘’H heeee wanted a t ttt iiiiii tit waaaa waaaann…..’’’

HOLY JESUS MOTHER OF CHRIST!

SHE’S FOUND MY SHAG LIST!!!!

*Names have been changed to protect those involved

Thanks for the huge warm welcome back, remember to comment below on the blog and share. 

Day 71 : Guess who's back...

It’s been a while hasn’t it? I’m sorry I ever left you; I didn’t want to ….but she made me.
 You see my little blog was going somewhere, people liked my funny little stories and word was spreading. 365 Days of Summer had gone international. I had a following in France! New Zealand!! Blackpool!!!!!!

People, important people wanted more, made me promises that if I just finished the blog – got to day 365 we could work with you. An E-Book, a book, a show one day! – Just keep writing.

And I’m thinking….’this is it’! This is my happy ending because the years of battling, the guilt, the social services calls, the cock blocking and judgment I have endured for being Summer’s mother would finally pay off – just keep writing and finish the blog.

 And so I sat and waited for Summer to be Summer, because every day she gives me a nugget to write about, every day there was an inappropriate comment, a ‘situation with your child again Ms R’ from school, an eye roll from the public – my muse always gives me something.

 So I waited

 And waited…… and she looked back at me blankly, sat quietly with a smug half smile on her face. I could almost hear her say ‘’I’m not your performing seal mummy, this…. what we have here…this will play out just the way I want it to ''

And she gave me sweet F.A.,nada, zilch, NOTHING!
 I couldn't finish the blog – I had nothing to work with.

 For 18 months she kept it up – even going as far as joining the local Salvation Army!
 And I just couldn't write any more and all my hopes and dreams were crushed once more by Summer.

That is until last week she gave me a slither to work with.
 ‘ohhhh this is nice, strawberry’’ I heard her lip smacking in my room whilst I was enjoying a harassment free shit in the loo.
‘’mmmm mummy can I have it all’’ she asked.

 ‘’yeah’’ I said annoyed that she found the Haribo.

 I flush, I walk in to see her watching CBBC sat on the edge of my bed, the bed side draw pulled out, sucking on a sample packet of strawberry lube. ‘’ this is nice mum, where did you get it? Can I have the blackcurrant one?’’

 And I’m so happy – so overjoyed that my little muse is back that I even suggest we knock up some rice pudding and use it as Jam.

Day 70 - And there he was

So there he was, 8 years later buying a pack of fags in my local newsagents, looking just as ruggedly perfect as he did all those years ago when he had me pinned up against a sweaty club wall.
8 years ago he was an up and coming DJ and producer (just like all the boys were 8 years ago), and after three weeks of bunk ups and parties I grew tired of his lifestyle and moved on to the next party and bunk up...so was my life for a while before Summer.
Separated from part-time dad (who was then just called Part-time boyfriend) I was a size 12, tanned, blonde with money in my pocket living every day like it was the weekend, only seeing the sunset bleary eyed from a London club car park, gurning my face off.
Over the 8yrs , I'd watched (only semi-stalkingley) him make it big (ish) to now, with his own radio show and music videos that get teenage girls up and down the land wet.
And there he is .....waiting for his change and fags.
And shit here I am .....5 stone heavier, dressed like a goth, greasey hair staring at him open mouthed clutching 3 bags of skips.
Ohhhh where do I hide where do I go .... Do I say hi, do I act cool?, no.....hide .....hide. This is not the image I want him to have of me. The awkward conversation, the look of regret, I'd say something stupid, he'd give me a sympathetic tap on the arm.
I turn in circles looking for a hiding place, my fat arse shuddering a stack of wine gums. I sneak behind him and take cover behind multi pack boxes of Mc Coys, the shopkeepers nervously eyeing me up.
"Mum!"
Ohhh fuck...Summer....forgot she was here.....oh I hope he doesn't think it's his! Ohhhhhhh I need to hide her too now.

"ssssshhhhh" I call her over to my hiding point.
He spots her bounding towards me...his eyes following the fluffy head monster and he smiles at her, Summer recognising him from his instagram feeds i show her constantly, she smiles back as she hurtles towards me.
"Mum isn't that man ......."
Bang
Straight into the fucking crisp boxes that tipple me over.
And there I am ,8 yrs later, 5 stone heavier, dressed like a greasy goth, spread eagle on the floor surrounded by 100 packets of Mc Coys as my daughter laughs so hard she starts farting and wetting herself at the same time as the shopkeeper shouts at me in Bengali .
And there he is offering me a hand , staring into my eyes, smelling the same as he did 8 yrs ago.... The faint look of recognition on his face...he's processing me......looking into my soul..... I'm smiling up at him "I know you don't I ?" he says ?........ Yes! Yes you do and yes ....yes I will ..... Yes, yes she could be yours if you squint and don't ask for a DNA test...yes,yes,yes............ "your one of cleaners at the studio aren't you ? " ......... And there he goes, into his tinted windowed prestige Mercedes having been given a bad Hispanic accent by me pretending to be Rosa.

Day 69 - it's a hard knock life

It's rare that I get the opportunity to get Summer from school, part of this is due to my working hours the other part is due to the stares of the other mums in the playground .....the whispers "ohhhh that's Summers mum" and that the last time I saw the head we both threatened to sue each other over where Summer learned the word 'lesbian' both of us denied responsibility so a small claims court seemed the ideal way to resolve things at the time.
Every time I'm at the school there seems to be some undesirable feedback I get from my child's day. Last Monday  I picked her up from after school club, not too concerned as these people only have her for 2 hrs a day and they seem to really like her.
As I waited for Summer to finish her game and collect her bag, one of the team came over to say how well Summer had behaved. I tried to hide my shock and said that I too felt she had  matured somewhat over the year.
"she.s a real character though isn't she" ohhhhh here it comes - a real character means, a real handful, a real nightmare .......a real little shit!
"she tells some fabulous stories....she had us all engrossed ".......shit, "Summer hurry up, get your coat" I don't want to stick around for this...
"such an imagination, she was telling the whole room that she sleeps in the cupboard each night, the kids where listening open mouthed"
"Oh you know kids, active minds! .....Summer put that boy down,get your coat,we are off""I said
"it's just the detail you know....the kids were asking her questions , like how to you stay warm, and quick as a flash she answered, she said , I cuddle up to my dog and he keeps me warm.....well when she said that my heart just broke" she says giving me this concerned look . Shit i think this woman actually believes her.
" kids hey!" come on summer move it!
"it's just that they can also be sooooo honest , and you know there are some families where kids don't have a bed of there own , and if only they asked a friend or someone to help they may get a bed donated you know...." oh shit, please stop woman please. I'm so uncomfortable right now , and not just because Summer is giving me a wedgie.
" I don't want to intrude but you can try free cycle , people give away free furniture all the time"
" she has a bed" I cut her off and start to drag Summer to the car
"it's free cycle.com, my husband has a van" she yells after me

Securely in the car I take a deep breath.
"why Summer? Why! Why did you tell everyone u sleep in the cupboard with the dog"
She looks genuinely embarrassed - both of us red faced hanging our heads in shame in the car.

" we need to move house mummy , I told everyone else we have a swimming pool and water slide too. Now everyone wants to come over"

There is no continuity to her lies, bedless but with a bespoke swimming pool!

So tonight I'll make he dreams come true and make her sleep in the cupboard with the smelly dog and maybe she'll wake up to a pool, a pool of the old incontinent dogs piss.

New Friends

I'm gonna keep to the basics on this one - there's been a bit of writers block the last 6 months - but that doesn't mean that Summer has matured into a little angel.

Far from it.

So this story happened a few weeks back. 

Summer holidays, bored at home, I cant take any more and I have only done a two week stint this year. During my 2 weeks on duty - I have seriously considered packing my bags in the middle of the night and legging it. 

A lack of routine and school work created a bored fuzzy monster who used me as her play thing. I felt like the pretty boy in Pentonville.

so one day - we are watching TV and Summer gets up and goes to the kitchen, takes a sandwich bag and disappears. Thats fine by me - she couldn't fit her head into the sandwich bag and suffocate so no need to monitor this situation - also i never intend to make her a packed lunch ever again after she complained to the head about my inedible soggy sandwiches. So go for your life with the sandwich bags. 

After a while I notice whispering from the landing. 

''your warm aren't you?'' Summers says in a creepy little voice

''Summer!!!! what you doing come here now''' I say

She doesn't come

''your darker than you were before'' she whispers '' i like it'' she creeps on

''Summer your being weird - get down here now!!'' 

''You wont let me bring my friend, so I'd rather stay up here with them'' 

ohhhh ya bastard - you've got so bored you've brought back the imaginary friend. ''no mummy its not imaginary its real - I can see him'' 

she slowly comes down the stairs all the while whispering to her ''friend'' she is reassuring him. ''its ok - you dont have to worry, we can watch Disney, you'll like Disney'' 

she pops her head round the corner and holds something behind her back.

''let me see it Summer!''...she shakes her head

'show me what you have behind your back'' ...she refuses again

knowing that this could go on all night - i just shrug and tell her to get on with it. 

Knowing that her battle is won - she skips to the sofa with her new little friend in hand and snuggles down with him to watch TV.

I don't know if the Summer holidays had caused some part of me to die - or that maybe I had now seen it all for Summer - but as she rested the sandwich bag filled with her own urine on her knee, I knew I/ we needed help. 

''really Summer?? this is you 'friend''

''I LOVE him'' she replies

I'm not prepared to fight and struggle over a bag of piss - I have had enough of Summers piss soaking into my skin - so I leave her too it. Thinking that if this is for attention she will soon get bored. 

Of course it doesn't, Bag 'O' Pee joins for the remainder of the evening, Is introduced to the pets, the neighbours, part time dad. It's told all her secrets and admired for her cloudiness.

I let it go on - in silent protest until she falls asleep clutching her bag of pee and gently release it from her clasp.

retire to bed and google ''Child Therapist''

Day 67 (after 3mths) Pancake day

lets make some memories, lets do Pancake day. Lets cook together and eat our spoils and remember this day, the smell of the batter, the lemon hitting or throats, flour in our hair and sugar on our fingers.

or as it is with Summer lets have tears, swearing and NHS direct on speed dial.

After work I brought all the materials needed for a successful pancake making session. A choice of no less than 5 fillings and an essential non- stick pan.
Summer cracked eggs into the bowl with vigor as I whisked the flour and milk in - this is it, we are doing it, making memories. Her little feet on tip toes peering over the bowl as she tastes the batter, I reach above her into the cupboard to get the sugar and her eager eyes follow me - eyes follow me so that she may learn. As the cupboard door opens- out flies a pot of Jerk seasoning and my world goes into slow motion. The peppery powder flies through the air like an ash cloud, Summer mouth open surveys the cloud that is about to consume her, my natural instinct is to protect the Pancake mix.
''FUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKKKKK''
oh I said that without moving my lips,
''Fuck, Fuck oh Fuck i'm blind''
She has turned bright red and is squeeling grabbing her eyes in agony. Im not in pain so I didnt say that....
'Water, I need Water FUCK, Bloody water ''
I run the tap and start chucking water in Summers face.
''not the hot tap you IDIOT......JESUS CHRIST, im dying''
Can I tell her off for swearing at a time like this? - she is shaking in shock after all.
Should I take her to the hospital - certainly not while she is screaming Fuck at the top of her voice. hold this wet towel to your face while I close the windows case the neighbors hear this.
Just standing next to her my nostrils are burning - I run through the ingredients on the pack to see if its dangerous, but I cant make it out because its all in Jamaican.
''Ingredients: Nuff hot pepper n scotch bonnet
Warning: nah smoke dis shit man it a gah burn you to rassssss''
Again another danger of living with part time dad - if I had hooked up with a nice middle class white man the worst this would have got was a dash of horseradish in the eye.
After 20 mins or so she opens her eyes and I commend her for her bravery.
I cant help thinking that my little bundle of joy will be OK in the next bout of riots should the pepper spray come out.

no one is eating pancakes tonight

Day 66 - Sick in the head

My dad has come to stay for a bit - for a bit is what I'm hoping it will be, for a bit until his girlfriend lets him move back on or he joins that monastery he keeps harping on about. I have just got to keep it together for a bit.

this is just perfect - just fabulous - because that means there are now 4 of us squeezed into a 2 bedroom house. My bedroom now looks like a Romanian flat share with a series of mattresses on the floor and me, Summer and part time dad squeezed in like sardines. Meanwhile my dad is keeping suicide at bay by re arranging my kitchen cupboards, shoe cupboard, cutlery draw - even my vibrators had been lined up into size order. 

Summer is loving the situation - its another beating heart to destroy. She takes great pride in kicking a man when he is down '' you been kicked out? your soooooo old to be kicked out? will you die alone now then?''

While he is here I decide to make him useful, he can do the school run - that will teach him - we all know that Summer is at her finest on a cold dark winters school morning - how sprightly she springs out of bed, and is washed and dressed waiting eagerly by the door, ready and raring to go! 

Summer did not disappoint - it took dad over an hour to get her dressed, he prepared her 3 different breakfast and finally off they set already 15mins late for school. Dad doesnt know where the school is, but I told him not to worry - you just head straight up the road and its on the left - Summer will show you the way. 

Problem is you have to pass 2 other primary schools on the way. Summer knows this and used it to her advantage. Apparently she went all the way into the first schools playground and into the corridor before bursting out laughing and telling granddad she was just tricking him as they were chased out for trespassing by a caretaker, then he fell for it again at the second school! By the time they actually got to her school my dad was screaming at her to stop walking into random schools and to just tell him the name of her school. She refuses and stares at him with no emotion.  Apparently it wasn't until he made the school secretary confirm that Summer was a pupil did he release her into their care. 

They have been late every day of the week so far. 

In other Summer news this morning Summer kicked up her usual fuss about being cruelly forced to go to school where she will be subjecting to such horrors as growing cress and finger painting!! - but this time she started crying and screaming that she did not want to go  saying that she felt ill and doing this fake coughy gaggy thing. Seeing that my dad could not handle a full day alone with Summer I insisted she go much to her dislike '' I will get them to send me home anyway - I will say I am ill'' 

So when I got a call 2 hrs later I knew she was up to her old tricks '' Ohhhhh Summer is poorly, she doesn't look right, she is crying, we think she should go home!" can these people not see her for the devious mentalist she is?

I send Dad to get her - telling him to take his time - and ordering him not to show her any sympathy or fun. 

I phone a bit later to make sure dad picked up the little faker on time - '' she threw up in your car  - it was like a fountain of vomit - I am literally scooping her sick out of your ashtrays, its everywhere'' 

The first thing I ask '' Is my car all right?''

The little fucker knows how to prove a point 

Day 65 - Pull the Other One

So 2 days into my new job, and I get a call from the school. 

Oh here we go again....

Lets start at the very beginning shall we.....

On Sunday Summer went next door to our patient long suffering neighbours to play football. Before I had time to light a cigarette and pour a glass of wine - she was back at my front door. 

''I've cut my foot!'' she had said matter of factly ''can I have a plaster so I can go back next door?''

The cut was more of a slice - one of those ones that leaves a flap of skin over the wound. no real blood, looks worse than it is..... So I patched her up and off she went to play. 

That was the last I saw or heard of the cut.

Fast Forward Tuesday morning. The normal mad rush of getting her lazy arse out of bed and looking vaguely presentable for school, we rush around the house hurling abuse at each other then jump in the cab. With only 10 mins before my train pulls in we sprint down the drive way to the school and the she stops. 

I look back and wave her to hurry up, as she starts to move I have a feeling that trouble lies ahead. 

She is limping. Limping like Quasimodo, like an Afghan war veteran. 

''stop it stop limping, what are you playing at, hurry up'' 

she looks up and smiles, I can read that girl like a book. 

She resumes her normal stride as we make the last 100 yards to her classroom, where on seeing her teacher the limp resumes again. ''Stop it Summer..please don't do this'' She smiles her classic cheeky smile that says  ''I will and there is nothing you can do about it''

I am surprised they waited so long to call me really - a call at 12:30pm meant that Summer must have method acted all morning without success. 

''Hello mum, its Miss Stick you nose in your business and judge you from Summers school, we have Summer here'.....well done good start. No surprises.

''We have Summer here and she is in a lot of pain with her foot'' 

in the words of Essex I think ''Oh Shut Up!!!' 

''She can barely walk and we are quite concerned about the cut, Summer thinks its infected!'' ahh yes Summer my daughter who took her medical degree aged 5 - she is the next Dougie Howser.

''To be honest we are surprised you brought her in today, we understand you are in a new job but is there no one else you could have left her with?, it is not our responsibility to look after children who come into school sick''

I hate you woman. I hate you for being sooooooo stupid as to be the only person on earth that actually believes Summer. 

''She was fine when I left her'' I say realising what and awful cliché that is, classic response of an abuser.

There is no point fighting it - I am the mum who feeds her child soggy sandwiches, who allows her to watch sexy music videos, who sends her into school maimed. 

I have no fight in me too argue - I call my neighbour to see if she can get Summer and then call back to confirm that someone cares enough about Summer to pick her up. '' does she know her neighbour?'' you stupid moron woman. ''oh and also Summer has been sat here with me and she was telling us that she watched a scary movie with her cousin Natasha - she said she was very frightened. Is this true?'' no, no this is not true she hasn't seen her cousin for at least 6 months! Summer if your foot is hurting you so much why are you telling them about horror movies - stick the knife on deeper why dont you! 

Arrrrgggghhhhh shut up woman, shut up Summer - god if you want to go into care you are going the right way about it, and the way I am feeling I might just let you go. So there it is I am back at the top of the list for shitty mothers. 

I am mad very very mad 

-- 

Day 62 - With Gritted Teeth ...

I have been waiting for nearly 6 years now to figure out if I am going to be lumbered with and almighty huge orthodontist bill come 2019.

When Summer was born - like all children, she was born toothless - apart from that recent freak birth where some Romanian kid was born with a full set of gnashes. When she was taken out of my womb and I looked at her for the first time - I thought this girls gums don't look right - she is going to have a gap tooth at the front - actually that was the second thing I thought, the first was ''why is this kids face hairy'' - Jesus with those 2 defining features you wonder why the bonding period was strained.

Everyone told me not to be silly - how could I tell by looking at her gums that she was going to have a gap tooth. To me it was obvious, she had this ridge that came deep down in the centre and it was about a cm wide! no tooth was going to get through that - plus part time dad had a gap tooth - which he then went on to cover up with a really bad set of platinum teeth - which when done in a back street down the Old Kent Road by an Iranian refugee turned out a brassy silver - in short he has the mouth of Jaws from the James Bond Films on a good day.

When Summers teeth began to come through - my fears where confirmed. Before me was one almighty gap, please do not underestimate me when I talk about this gap, tis not a slither, tis not a crack in the door. Someone has taken the door off the hinges here!! No word of a lie this gap is a whole big tooth wide. Which I work out to be a 5mm wide actually - which is a huge amount of open mouth to have. I thought as more and more of her teeth grew the gap would get smaller - it didn't, if anything it got bigger.

Everyone who sees her would say how cute she was with her missing tooth, ''its not, its her gap'' I would have to inform them quickly. I think about people in the public eye with gaps, Madonna, Vanessa Paradis, Amy Winehouse - but there gaps are insignificant in comparison.

Part Time dad and his Jamaican lot say that in their country its believed to be a sign of Riches to come - hmmmmm well that clearly wasn't the case for PT Dad who count corned beef as a luxury meal.

I even took her to the dentist to see what he thought - he was quite optimistic, he thought I was overreacting (OK so asking for a 5 yr old to have veneers fitted is a bit much) but he was convinced that when her adult teeth come through the gap will close. He asked me bring her in for regular check ups - I reckon he is planning on retiring off the cost of those braces in 6 years time.

So I sit and wait for those sodding two front teeth to fall out, the right has been on wobble mode for about a month now. I wobble it, she wobbles it but it wont budge, every other tooth around the front two is popping out in a matter of days - when she smiles at the moment it looks like a chess board.

Yesterday when a non important lower molar fell out - a half heartedly shoved a pound under her pillow. But I told her that the tooth fairy sent me a text - saying that if she can get her front teeth out by Christmas she is in store for an extra special treat. Lets face it I need to know what those teeth are planning - in case I have to get saving!

Day 61 - Son of a Preacher man

‘’Ding Dong’’

Bollocks – another Saturday morning disturbed by the door bell. It should be illegal to ring on door bells before 1pm on a weekend. Not only do I have to contend with some random at the door but I have to deal with Summers obsession with answering it as quick as she can, No matter what is going on, how partially dressed we both may be she will haul ass and sprint to the open the door regardless that my nunny may be on show or that part time dad is strutting around in those ridiculous fertility killer boxer shorts.

So there it was, the door bell going off, Summer running down the stairs with just a vest on and me scrambling to find some leggings to cover my hairy legs before she exposes me. I scream at her to stop, cover up, don’t answer the sodding door!!!!

‘’who the hell is it?’’ Summer bellows through the letterbox.

Leggings, leggings where are my leggings?

‘’is you mother in?’’ I can hear a man’s voice question – god I hope she covered up

‘’she is getting dressed – is that for me?’’

God what is going on down there – she has opened the door – leggings where are my leggings

‘’it is a magazine that we are giving out, it’s for your mother, Jesus can save you, do you believe in Jesus little one’’

‘’yeah she is ok but I think Rhianna is better’’ says Summer

Sod the leggings – I’m leaving Summer to it

‘’maybe you could get your mummy?’’

‘’no.....what’s in the magazine?’’

‘’it’s about how to raise a child’’ this preacher must see the ironic situation he is in right now!! ‘’there are a lot of bad children out there – look at the rioters this summer, they were children’’

‘’ no, cha, that’s lies... the man who gave my nan the TV was huge and fat..... he wasn’t a child’’

Shhiittt leggings, leggings got to get down there

‘’and my dad was saving the burning puppy shop at the riots and he is not a child, i mean he is stupid but he is like 57 or 80 and he smokes, so he isn’t a child. Mum couldn’t go to the riots, she was sick, she did a pee in a cup and left me for 2 days, I saw fires’’

‘’is your dad home? Your mum?’’

‘’I’m coming’’ , just.... got.....  to...... squeeze.... . into.... these..... Skinny....jeans            

I get to the door panting and chaffed to see this visiting Jehovah and his petrified 10 year old son hiding behind him. Before I can say a word he thrust the parenting manual into my hand, squeezes my arm sympathetically. Grabs his son and legs it down the road.

Day 60 - Break - Fast

We keep getting busted in the morning Summer and I.

For the last month or so a mum from Summers school stops her car whenever she sees us on the morning walk to school. The problem is for the last month or so I have taken to giving Summer her breakfast on the run. Its always been a struggle to get something down her in the mornings and with her penchant tardiness. So the morning rush results in her getting a honey sandwich stuffed in her gob. This is the eaten messily in the good samaritains prestine car. "Is that a sandwich she has there for breakfast?" She asks uneasy at the sight of the sugary carby meal. Had the bread been toast I suspect I would have got away with it. If this wasn't bad enough, when summer refused her honey sandwich one morning I shoved her a cereal bar, a coco pop cereal bar in her mouth and off we trotted to school. Had this been served in a bowl with milk on top I would have definately got away with it. This time she wasn't going to hide her disgust "is that her breakfast?l she asked shocked and horrified.

"Oh no " I nervously laugh " she had something else at home"

"No I didn't mummy'

"Ssh now Summer, mummies talkng"

"Yh but your lying.,"

I can feel the judgement bearing down on me like the coco pops monkey beating my chest. I have to get away from these burning eyes, the awkward silence!

" Do u mind walking summer in so I can  jump out and catch my train" the lady pulls over and practically chucks my abusive self out the car.

I make a run for it and abandon Summer in the back of the car still eating that fucking coco pops bar. That's it now, Summer is alone to tell her the truth about me. Not just breakfast time but maybe last night when she ate 4 aero desserts!

You know if she didn't pick us up we would burn those calories, offsetting her nutrionless breakfast. So in fact it she who is damaging my child! Yeah. Hell yeah.

In Summer news she broke up a fight between the cat and the dog and then took the cat to her operating theatre upstairs where she proceeded to pull out clumps of loose hair from the cats neck with tweezers and trim the rest with nail scissors. The  Cat naturally went ape shit on Summers ass and was rewarded a can of Tuna

Day 59 - If you go down to the woods today

I haven’t blogged for a while – and I think it’s because I don’t really have that much to moan about. Don’t get me wrong Summer is still an arse and part time dad still watches Babestation – actually he now records Babestation as Summer found out to her horror today.

Yes things have been going well for me since I turned 30.

Firstly I got a mortgage so I can stay in my mums house – it was a great feeling when we ripped the ‘For Sale’ sign down. It’s nice to have your Saturday’s back to yourself and not having to find new ways to deter people from buying your house, there are only so many times you can force a cat to pee in the hallway and Summer got so into our regular patter she began to think the house was actually haunted.

So with this newly acquired debt, comes responsibility and I have also had to take on a new job with longer hours and more stress. My friends tried to put me off, ‘’if you take this new job yeah you can pay your mortgage, get a car, and a cleaner but you will never see Summer’.....I handed my notice in there and then.

In Summer news, my friend and I took her sons and Summer to Keston Ponds for some good old fashioned wood walking round the ponds. It was delightful to see them run around the trees and jump in the stream. Not so delightful was watching Summer get stuck in a mud pool. Bare in mind there were 5 of us and only Summer the smallest one manages to find the UK’s only sinking mud spot. In a matter of seconds she was knee deep wriggling for her life. The other 2 kids were clawing at the mud trying to rescue her. I made the mistake of trying to help and ended up flat on my face .  by the end of our little wholesome walk. Summer had lost both Pugg boots to the mud and was  so soiled that she had to strip naked and walk back bare foot through the woods past families walking off there Sunday lunch wearing nothing but my leopard print snood. It looked like we had rescued  Mogli from the Jungle.

Day 58 - Bonkers Conkers

Today was nice. On collecting Summer from school I was presented with a surprise!

She was all sweaty when I got there , so I recoiled when she gave me a kiss- it’s essentially her fault for demanding to wear Ugg boots -sorry Pugg boots (Primark brought) leopard print leggings and a  long sleeve top on the hottest day of the year. We need to stop watching the only way is Essex.

Anyway...I am just heading out the classroom door when the after school club lady stops me. ‘’Oh yes, I need to give you this’’

Shit what is it, another medical slip, an exclusion letter, extra homework, social services letter....

‘’its a note home from her teacher’’ shit shit shitty shit.  I skulk back to collect the note that will ruin my weekend.

But neh, yeah of little faith mummy,  tis but a certificate of achievement ‘’Star of the Week’’ I have heard about these awards but thought them a fanciful piece of fiction, Summer bringing Mr Tumnus home for tea and cake was more likely .

On the back there is a hand written note from the teacher....to me... because I am her mother and I have born a star (see day 56 I told you so) Now I know how Mary felt – not my mate Mary,I mean  Jesus n Mary.

I start to read...

‘’In PE yesterday...’’ oh PE , not Star of Math or English....PE, never mind a star is a star ,more people know Usain Bolt than some Mathalete anyway.

‘’Summer worked well in the group and chose  to .....’’ I love the way her teachers always write ‘chose ‘ to  because Summer will only take part and excel in something she has chosen to do.

‘’Chose to develop a sequence of movements to create a dance’’ errrr isn’t that what dance is ??

‘’She listened very carefully to the music that was playing and kept with the tempo and the rhythm’’ Hell, she is black what you expect woman.

‘’Her dance was magnificent’’ oh do calm down dear

‘’...and told the story of a conkers experience during Autumn’’ ......ohhhh kaaayyyy then, someone picked up the hash cake at the bake sale today.

What does a conker experience during Autumn?  It sprouts, grows out of its shell, drops to the ground and then kids use it as weapons.  Shit she would have to be talented to dance that scene.

When we get home I ask her to perform this MAGNIFICENT dance. She willingly agrees.  She wants me to get involved, Stand like a tree, this I can do. I stand arms out like a tree, she stands underneath my armpit, dramatically drops to the ground in a ball. Then rolls around the floor ( a little bit too proactively if you ask me)

And now as promised many moons ago (thinking that I would never have to) I am grudgingly obliged to buy her a present as she won Star of the Week, for her ability to sexualise a conker.

Day 58 - I have a dream

‘’you wanna hear about my dream?’’   was the first non abusive sentence Summer spoke this morning, before that was a series of Jamaican abuse and teeth kissing for daring to wake her up for school.

‘’there was a robot with lasers and it was killing people’’

I’m not really listening we have 5 mins to get out the door ‘’thats nice put your shoes on’’

‘’he killed you, daddy and the dog...me and the cat were fine’’  I am listening now because she says this with a smile and I vividly remember hearing her laughing in her sleep last night – now I know why.

On the way to the bus stop she pauses and looks into the fog ‘’this looks just like my dream, the monster is coming mum, he has lasers for arms – everyone is going to die, people will be dead in rivers’’ The people at the bus stop shuffle away from us.

‘’what will we do when it comes for us mum?’’

‘’its ok, Dad will sort him out there is no need to worry about monsters’’  I like to bring up Part time dad in public places, I think it surprises people that one can have a mixed race child and have  relationship with the father. It makes us seem modern and cultured rather than just another statistic. They don’t need to know he is a moron

‘’don’t be stupid mummy, Daddy would just save himself and the pub’’ now people know he is a moron.

All the way to school on the bus – Summer retells her dream at the perfect volume to ensure the whole bus is listening, as more and more people engage with her the more graphic she gets until she is wriggling on the floor gurgling showing how it will sound when the laser melts her belly.

No one is amused – they all look at me in disgust  - how can this small innocent child imagine such horrific scenes.  

‘’There is blood on the roads, there are zombies eating flesh and the only way I survive is by pretending I am a robot too and I must kill and lick the blood yum yum yum ‘’  I pull her down the school path as she screams and howls as the zombies in her mind are gnawing at school caretaker – who looks at her bemused as she whispers  ‘’save yourself, save yourself ‘’ to him.

I chuck her into breakfast club and she strolls into a room full of children eating jam on toast – I admire the new reception kids and remember how that was Summer just last year.

I mention to the club leader as I head out the door –‘’ don’t entertain her if she offers to tell you about her dream’’. They know this could mean trouble, this could lead to an army of kids scared and literally wetting their pants, As I walk away I see the class turn to listen to Summer, she throws her arms up in the air to tell her tale as the assistant leaps through the air to cover her mouth.  I wont be surprised if tomorrow I get a call from the school.

Day 57 - Dear Mum

Dear Mum

Today I turned 30! I want to let you know that everything is alright. That like you said the choices I made would mean that life may be a little bit harder than they had to be – but I am doing it, despite your initial doubts.

To be honest I always thought you would be here, not for me but for Summer, like when I played that game when I was a kid, when I would leave you with my baby while I picked my husband up from the airport in the Porsche. I think you would have wanted that for me. Not this life with part time dad and Summer being cared for by strangers 8 hrs a day and me being the breadwinner. God I wish I could just leave Summer with you sometimes.

I was never going to fit the norm mum, but I think you liked that in me, a rebellious streak that you never let live yourself, my fondness for taking the wrong path, the way I always turned out ok in the end drove you insane and I still do it. And we are , we are OK. We would be better with you; Summer would probably be better behaved with you around. But she is healthy, strong and loved.. . . . . and mental, I ‘m not sure you being here would have changed that.

I think you would be proud of me, proud that I didn’t fall apart when you left, that I did things the right way as you wanted and I am glad you instilled that drive within me.  I still try and make you happy with things I do even though you’re not here.

So today I am 30 – an adult, not your baby any more. I didn’t get your card with its neat hand writing and embarrassing message, but that ok, I know you were there. I know you were the one that closed the tattoo parlour when after my third Jaeger bomb I decided to get a tattoo behind my ear tonight, the one who made me get the last train home and text to make sure Summer is ok.

I’m 30 now and it’s time that maybe I stop waiting for you to come back and save me – I still think you died to just prove a point, and stubborn as I am I proved you wrong – but you knew I would.

We still talk about you – we live in your home (thanks for that!)  I cringe when I find myself doing the same nerdy things you did for me as a child to Summer.  She moans about my cooking and singing too.

You would have really enjoyed her mum – she is nuts,

But listen I am a big girl now – so bugger off and have some fun up there, get stoned  or something radical, hell get laid by a black man!! . I’m fine. Don’t worry. You taught me well

Love

S x 

Day 56 - Lunch

So we made it two weeks this school year before I get the call from the school office

‘’Hi mum, its Miss K’’ – in an instant my gut drops. Miss K only ever calls with bad news. She always starts off with the same line ‘’don’t worry Summers fine’’ you know, for once I wish she wasn’t fine. I wish the school would ring me because Summer is vomiting or running a temperature. At least then I could get a half day off work. No such luck for me – it’s always down to behaviour and I always get judged. Miss K really doesn’t like me. She has been there at the start of all my call ins to the head. She is the one who is concerned first about things like Summers erotic dancing at school and Summers insistence on running into walls to get plasters, she is the one that sees me drop Summer at school late when I am hung-over from a works party the night before (just the once).

. She is essentially the school secretary but she has been put on some half day course and transformed into parent liaison officer. Whatever that means. She has taken this extra responsibility on and with it power above her station and she is desperate to find a social services case. The easiest target so far is Summer.

‘’Summer has made a formal complaint to me’’ says Miss K – quite how a 5 yr old makes a formal complaint I don’t know. Does she do it via alphabetical flash cards or play dough animation ?

‘’She is refusing to eat her packed lunch’’  - so bloody what! make her eat it!

‘’ we here at (insert name of primary school) listen to children’’  she is reading this out of a manual. ‘’Summer is protesting about the quality of her packed lunch, the sandwich was soggy, she says the food is off and there is a funny smell in her lunch box’’ this all coming from a girl who I caught drinking washing up liquid yesterday.

Soggy sandwiches are part and parcel of school days aren’t they? – who has not had a soggy sandwich at least 10 times during their school life. I thought sandwiches were meant to be wet until I was 15!

I am smiling now at the thought of Summer protesting. Standing on a chair in the lunch hall making herself heard, demanding change, throwing her soggy sandwich to the ceiling and starting a petition. This is silly, and the school are calling me about a soggy sandwich. I wait for Miss K to crack, say how stupid  Summer is being, but she doesn’t, she is as appalled by the sandwich situation as Summer. She is taking this ‘formal’ complaint very seriously.

‘’Summer tells me that the lunchbox has been in the fridge for 2 days’’ Summer is a fucking liar and out to get me. I remind Miss K that this is not possible as she had the accused lunch box yesterday thus breaking this supposed  48hr fridge imprisonment.

‘’Summer is demanding school dinners from now on- we had to give her one today as we cant see a chid starve- you owe us £2’’ oh shut up – I now have to pay you £2 because you won’t let a child eat a soggy sandwich! And now Summer has rights to demand school dinners and you want a cheque upfront for £150 to cover the term. Tell Summer if she wants a hot meal at school she needs to get a job and then she can decide what she can and can’t have.

When I get Summer from school later she is looking sheepish, she knows she has done wrong, but she also knows she is victorious.

‘I am sorry they called you mum, I begged her not to, I told them It would make you mad’ yes Summer go on, imply that I beat you

‘’I just don’t want packed lunch anymore and this is the only way you will stop making them’’

And so I get my cheque book out and sign away a shit load of money for Summer to eat the same thing day in, day out – a tuna jacket potato.

Suffice to say on checking the lunchbox I found it empty – she had somehow managed to force herself to eat her lunch at the after school club, soggy sandwich and all.

Day 55 - Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star

I have become somewhat of an arsehole – a stage school mom.

I started 2 weeks ago when I joined Summer up to a performing arts school – I couldn’t afford it, but they promised to keep her every Saturday for 2 whole hours of dancing, singing and drama. All I heard was 2 whoooollllllleeee hours to myself, shopping, pampering, sleeping. All without the constant nag of Summer and her insistence on following me everywhere.

For her first session I decided to stay and peak through the window to see if she was enjoying herself, because if she wasn’t she would have just walked out, no negotiation, just off down the A2 heading home. A few other mums were there, turned out immaculately, clasping Chanel bags with pink frosted lips and highlights in their hair. I still had morning honey still stuck to my chin. I noticed how very subtly that they would try and push their way to the front to take a peer through the one small A4 window at their little stars, and then smugly turn back to the other mums and profess how wonderful ‘Shiraz’ is doing. One mother whose daughter was in the 6-8 yr old class was moaning about how her (by all accounts spoilt brat) child should be in the next class up on the account of her extraordinary talents (un noticed by me) and that the class was holding her back.  For the next 2 hours I had to listen to the most futile conversation about collagen injections ,Range Rovers, cello lessons and the difficulty in finding cheap eastern European help. I having non of the above tried to stay quiet clutching my bus pass. But they kept trying to draw me in, trying to get information on me as to what Summers talents were, what threat she might be to their own budding myley cyrus’s. I tried, I really tried not to get involved. But half hour before the class ended I cracked.

   ‘’Summer comes from a theatrical background’’ the room gasps, their botox cracks. ‘’I was in the west end as a child myself – a stint with Vanessa Redgrave as lead’’ This is true. ‘’Her father is musically blessed and was an international dancer’’ this is not true, he cant hold a tune or play a note but danced in a few music videos in his day, MC’d at a few raves.....why is this coming out of my mouth, stop, stop, stop. I can see them all pretend to be pleased and intrigued whilst snarling at me and watching Summer with one eye. ‘’Summer was doing dance earlier in the year but she was quite advanced and wasn’t being challenged’’ they all nod in agreement. Shut up, schhhhttttooooppppp. It got worse – I implied ever so slightly that my  new 4x4 was in the garage hence the bus pass. When in fact it’s been a right off sat outside my house with bricks propping it up for 6 months. What have I become, I am thinking about getting a spray tan!! It’s ok – Summer will hate it and we will never have to come back here again – they will just presume she got a scholarship to the Brits.

She loves it – she begs me to take her back, its the best thing ever. I am shitting myself as there is no way I am going to be able to magic up an Audi Q7 by next week – and what about the holiday to the Bahamas I told them I had planned thats only a month away!!!!! Bollocks me.

For the next week I obsess about keeping my own show alive, without making them find me out. Summer keeps irritating by singing this show tune over and over again (badly) ‘’Soft hands, blab la, Gold Curls bla, bla I’m not that girl’.... shhhhhh mum is trying to work out how to get an Audi. But then in dawns on me – if I cant muster these material things I shall make Summer a star, this will in the short term, leave the other mothers envying me, and in the long term score me an Audi (I would naturally take 50% as her manager). What happened next is heinous, its dreadful,....... I type the song words into google, I find the song ‘I’m not that girl’ from Wicked. I play it on repeat to Summer and make her perform it for me, over and over. I stop her midway and push her off the mock stage and show her how she should be doing it, how to punch the air, how to look longingly into the distance, never turn your back to your audience, project Summer Project!!!!! After the 14^th attempt she starts to loose interest and the feeling in her legs – no worries lie down and watch mummy do it – see how its meant to be done you fool. I am prancing about the room, singing at the top of my (well ranged) voice, at one point I even let out a tear. (my god I am good) Part time dad comes up to see what the racket is and quickly turns on his heels when he sees me on my hands and knees pleading to the Dress Circle.  It gets worse though. While Summer sleeps I set the song on repeat and play it to her all,night,long....I set my alarm early and wake her up for a quick rehearsal before school – and so it goes for 5 days and 5 nights. And £125 spent on theatre tickets......

Come Saturday ladies I will dust off my 10 year old Louis Vinton bag, put my false eyelashes on, drag Summers lifeless body to the class and death stare her through that A4 small window until she performs it just how I like it.

I will then ask the teacher to put her in the class above, leave late so I can catch the bus unnoticed.

She will be a star, my girl, you just wait and see....for the first time ever I am pleased at the ridiculous middle name Part Time dad gave her... Summer Destiny will be a star.