School.

MEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRR (that's supposed to resemble a foghorn) IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT, IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT... you have two weeks left to submit your child's school application.

Fuck. How did we get here?

Before I even needed to think about schools for my daughter, I said to my husband "I won't be one of these psycho mums who moves house just to get into the best school, I won't frantically read through ofsted reports everyday in the run up to the deadline, I won't turn crazy... I won't" PAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I got crazy.

There are two schools I'd be happy for her to go to. And another that I would love for her to go to. One of these we haven't viewed and I KNOW, you're all like WHAT THE FUCK?! I know. Thing is, we don't live anywhere near these schools and because I've been changing my mind every twelve seconds about when we are going move to the area the schools are in, I've kinda messed up and left us zero time to view the one we haven't seen yet. It's not the end of the world, I know. It's a great school (according to their website) and I got a good feeling from their website and I KNOW that's not the same as us viewing it and getting the same feeling but like I said, I messed up.

Anyway... I said I wouldn't get crazy. Every time I try to talk to my husband about it, he glazes over which is a great help. I think he's tired of neurotic mum who is now obsessed by this whole process (I've even read up about the role of parent governors, brainstormed ideas for the PTA fundraising events and planned what talks I'll do in the school... see... CUCKOO). I've befriended (kind of) the head of one school and can see us sitting down for coffee in her office and her asking me to come in and teach art. So basically I work there now. In my head.

It isn't just me, is it? Oh god, it is.

I want to be relaxed about the whole thing but I just have the most awful memories of school. I hated it. And I really don't want that for her. I'm sure it won't be the same (providing we get one of our three choices, which I'm pretty sure we will... OH GOD DID I JINX IT?), it's just hard. Nursery turned out to be such a traumatic time for her (she's still getting over it) and it's scarred me.

But there are always cash bribes, right?!

Cuckoo, cuckoo.