It was the kids last day at school yesterday, but it was also my last day there too (Yes bitchface it's all about me, me, me!) The kids seemed quite content that they had half a ton of haribo to take with them, their cameras, an autograph book and a handful of sharpies for their friends to sign their school shirt. Big Girl had her Hip Hop Pop street dance class before school and at the end of the practice the instructor sent Big Girl out to get me so I could watch them perform the dance that they had been learning. Normally I video everything but I stood there watching her dance with her friends and trying to soak up every last moment and commit it to memory. And with my memory the way it is that's no mean feat!
Then it was time for them to line up in the playground and go into class. I gave them both a kiss and cuddle and told them to enjoy their last day and then the whistle blew. And as I watched them walk into their classrooms I realised that it was the last time I would ever see them do that at this school. And I cried. It started with just one or two tears escaping out of the corner of my eyes which were hidden by my sunglasses but then one of my school mum friends put her arm around me and the floodgates opened.
I sobbed and sobbed. And sobbed a bit more. I'm not a pretty crier either. My face goes red and blotchy, my eyes swell up and my mascara runs so I end up with panda eyes. I'm so sentimental, especially since being ill. My experiences have made me appreciate the little things in life and taking the kids to school is one of those things that I never take for granted anymore.
I ended up going for coffee with 2 school mum friends, good cop and bad cop (aka bitchface! That's her friendly nickname and yes, I do call it her to her face!) Good cop had a cry with me and we reminisced over the years of our friendship. A couple of months ago I was sat in her lounge telling her that we were considering moving but wasn't quite sure about it. She is a fellow believer and when I told her how there were places in the school we wanted, that the hospital in Nottingham was a good one and I could do shared care with them, that Hubby had been offered Voluntary Redundancy and some other things she said that it was the Big Mans way of telling me that the time was right. She believed that He was clearing the way for us to move and that I must be brave to take the leap. Now that the time had come to actually go we were both really sad that we wouldn't be seeing each other every morning in the playground and were having our little cry. Bad cop comes in and says "what the fuck you crying about?" Which is just her way. And I love her for it. There have been times when I've felt really low and sometimes dare I admit to it, a bit sorry for myself. But she comes round with her 'stop crying and just get on with it' attitude and it forces you to take stock and get on with things. Sometimes being surrounded by people who are sympathetic and pander to you feeling sorry for yourself it actually does you no good. Occasionally I do need a day wallowing in bed asking 'why me?' But doing that too often or for too long is the thin edge of the wedge and can lead onto really down times. So having someone to snap you out of it and bring you back to reality can be helpful. And over the years I've learnt to take her brutal honesty with a pinch of salt and tell her to "fuck off" every now and again.
So we're sat there chatting and I check the time. Bigger, bugger, bugger. I had a smear test and GP appointment booked in and I had 5 minutes to get there. And I remembered that I hadn't really had a tidy up. Down there ⤵️ It was ok but not really neat but I realised that I didn't have time to go home and rectify that. I figured that the nurse must have seen some pretty minging minges so mine shouldn't be too bad!!! I'm trying to fit as much in before I go and I thought I might aswell have my smear done at the GP surgery now because the nurse at the new surgery in Nottingham might be a bit of a butcher.
I went to see my GP afterwards to get prescriptions for enough medication to tide me over throughout the move. As she was doing them I noticed that on her screen was the cost of the medication. Do you know how much 2 months of my fentanyl (painkiller) patches cost?? Go on, have a guess. Higher, higher...are you in the thousands yet? Two months worth of patches cost nearly £3500! I couldn't believe it. I often bleat on about the prescription charge being high but when you realise the real cost of the medicines we get prescribed it's actually bloody good value. I walked away with prescriptions worth around £5000 in total. Thank God for the NHS. Without it I would be dead. No question. If we ever went to a system like America then people like me would not be able to afford the insurance premiums (if anyone would insure me at all!) so therefore would be priced out of treatment.
After my GP appointment I met up with Bestie and went to an appointment with her. I was there as babyminder, a job that I love and will miss desperately. Afterwards we made a trip to Iceland to get a load of ice lollies. I had promised the kids that I would get some for them to share with their friends in the park after school. We have been very lucky to have a big play/skate park next to the school so, in summer especially, we go straight out of the school gates and into the park for an hour. I will miss that. It's been a great way to make mummy friends because we are all hanging around while the kids are off playing whereas at other schools (the new one included) people come out of school and go straight home.
After getting back from the shop I just about have time to grab the kids a change of clothes for the park, some drinks and other supplies and I'm out of the door heading back to meet the school mums for one last coffee together. What I wasn't expecting was the bag of gifts that they gave me. They got me a really cute charm for my pandora bracelet and a necklace with a medalian with the school saint on it.
Picking the kids up from school I was ok. I think I had done most of my crying earlier in the day and had run out of tears! Big Fella came bounding out of school shouting "bye" as he rushed off to play football with his mates. Hubby and I waited and waited but she didn't come out of the classroom. She appeared and beckoned is in. She was struggling with all the stuff she had hoarded at school. She had her PE kit, lunch box (from last week, grim) all her pencil cases and then the huge goodbye card that her class had made for her. What a contrast to Big Fella. Both of their teachers were unfortunately away with another class' residential trip so it was a shame they weren't there on their last day. Big Girls teacher had said goodbye on Friday last week but Big Fellas teacher was on a course and didn't bother to say goodbye on the Thursday which did upset him.
We set up camp in the park with picnic rugs, camping chairs and the all important ice lollies. I enjoyed sitting chatting some more and the kids were having a great time. The weather was amazing (thanks to the Statue of Prague that got posted on Facebook!) and I got some lovely pictures. There was one photo that we took in the park of Big Girl and her friends 4 years ago so we tried to recreate that. It will be funny to compare the two and see how they've all changed.
To finish the day off the kids each had their best friend over for a sleepover while I went out to the pub with all the school mums. They bought me 2 lovely personalised balloons and despite being on water all night I had a great time. Bestie came out too; she knows most of them now from doing school runs for me or meeting us in the park after school. She came in handy when she had to nip back to my house to get my bottle of liquid morphine. My tummy hasn't been great the last week and I think everything that's going off is affecting it. They say the gut is sensitive to emotion (St Marks are doing research on that I believe) and I've certainly been emotional.
It was a long day but it was filled with some of the people that I love most in the world. I'm gonna miss the school and all the lovely people there so much but, as I'm being reminded hundreds of times a day, there's Skype and FaceTime and email and text and what's app and Facebook and Twitter and loads of other ways to keep in touch. There's even talk of the lost art of letter writing being rekindled. I do love a letter. It's so nice to get something in the post that's not a bill.
So as the name of this post suggests, yesterday is the start of our goodbyes. The kids have got leaving parties next week with their school friends and we've got bowling with the Hingles planned. It's not Christmas Eve but it's kinda our thing now. I'm trying to squeeze in catch ups with people I've not seen but I have a horrible feeling that time is going to out. It's not like we're moving to another country though and we will be up and down over the next few weeks. That's going to help me because I'm better with a "see you later" than a "goodbye".
NB x
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