School Runs – Love Hate?

Photo was taken this afternoon by my 5 year old on our walk home from school,I have my long cane in my hand and her book bag has been flumped on the path.

Love it or hate it school runs are one of those things as a parent at some point the majority of us find ourselves stuck with.

I am very fortunate that for the most part on a morning my dad will take Jemima for me, and on a afternoon my mum will collect her, thus saving me valuable spoons as her school is about a miles walk, yes their is a bus service but it is unreliable and cabs as a round trip just to get there and back let alone twice a day would be approx £10 so is financially not viable. It is times like this I despise being visually impaired as means I am unable to have the luxury of being able to drive a car.

On a Wednesday my parents aren’t around in the afternoon so it is down to me, so time to ensure I am adequately dressed so I don’t either over heat or freeze, gotta love auto immune systems that are defunct and fail to work on top.

I digress, I don’t like the school run as well a) getting to school means crossing a couple of major roads, yes their are crossings, but today for example some moron decided to wait till I was literally half way across the road and then sped up and got literally mm from my cane tip! Seriously sighted humans what is with the stupid? or are you just plain ignorant? b) I hate the making small talk with other parents, as they are all so cliquey, yes a few are tolerable but is that due to taking pity on me due to multiple disabilities or cos they give a shit? Example last year when I had a breakdown etal “let us know if you need anything” 30 people said it well families yet how many could I actually rely on? oh yeah the usual suspects of 4 different families, the rest you ask? full of excuses and abilst nonsense! So I quit asking as it saved the anxiety of will they actually do it out of pity or cos they want to do the right thing?! c) their is the waiting around as the class finishes 15:30 but can guarentee the teacher wont open the door till closer to 15:35 so I am stood wobbly legged leaning on my cane for support and praying I don’t go kersplat and make a dufus of myself once again.

On the other hand, I love the walk home with my daughter, listening to her day, her wisdom of “no don’t go that way some unkind human has left a bin in the way n you will walk into it”. A precious bit of time without technology and to talk, but also reminds me she is growing up rather quickly (she is 6 on the 26th of January) and to me she is still a newborn nestled against me seeking my breast to nourish on.

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Author:

A parent whom happens to be gender fluid, pansexual, a survivor and lives with multiple disabilities

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