Mission Impossible



For those who have been following the rather lengthy saga, chronicling my attempt to return to teaching after an extended career break; the end is in sight.  I think I have completed all the ‘Mission impossible’ requests as stipulated by the agency and should very soon be given the green light to return to the front line.   Having moved houses eight times and countries a couple of times since finishing Teacher Training, I chose to forgo the monumental task of scouring my loft for my degree certificate and for a not so small fee, I was able to obtain a certified letter from the University validating my qualifications.

After thorough research (worthy of a master’s degree), I was finally able to ascertain that I would indeed need to turn myself in at my local police station to have a full set of fingerprints taken so that I could send it off to South Africa, along with other documentation in order to secure a Police Clearance Certificate.  This is needed to confirm my good conduct for the years I have lived there.  So having been informed that I must not be accompanied by any children as I would be taken into the custody department; I presented myself for what I am hoping will be my one and only finger printing experience. To the friend who assured me that there wouldn’t be ink involved because the process is now done electronically, I can assure you that there was copious amounts of ink because I needed a hard copy of the document. At this stage, I would like to  point out that finger painting with a class of six year olds is a less messy, stressful exercise.  Never mind, within half an hour, minus £70 pounds and after having used half a box of ‘Grimex’ wet wipes, I found myself in possession of the much needed fingerprints.  Perhaps I should have asked to have some mug shots done whilst I was there? It would almost have completed my 'day as a suspect' tour of the station!  So now all I can do is wait for the formal okay from the teaching agency and with any luck, I’ll be working again after the October half-term holiday. 

In the meantime, I have been attending to the needs of my family and juggling the schedules of four busy children.  Little Miss Elnino seems to be experiencing a lull and thankfully only got into trouble once out of the last two full weeks of school.  My eldest has realised that college is not all fun and games and is having to buckle down and work really hard on all her assignments.  Her ‘snappish’ teenage behaviour of last school year seems to have resurfaced and because I asked too many questions about a particular project, I was told that it wasn’t worth explaining as I wasn’t the ‘brightest crayon in the box’ and wouldn’t understand it anyway!   Don’t teenage girls have a colourful way with words?

Although I am beginning to wonder if my intelligence is diminishing with age!  That’s certainly how I end up feeling every single time I take one of the children to the Doctor’s office. This morning, I managed to secure an appointment for my youngest son after having spent half an hour pressing redial just to get through to the receptionist at the Medical Centre. (From 8 til 8:30am, the craziest time in a household of five but the only time at which if you do get through, that you are offered a same day appointment. No wonder they play the message reminding callers that all calls are recorded for monitoring and teaching purposes because they know if they didn’t that the receptionist would receive an earful each and every time because callers are so frazzled!)  Back to my point, most times when I take my children to the Doctor’s, I am made to feel like an overanxious imbecile who should know that her child is only suffering from a virus but clearly today was a day when I should have known how ill my child was and brought him along sooner! He is now tucked up under a blanket on the couch and is dosed up on antibiotics for a chest infection. 

Motherhood clearly isn’t for unintelligent sissies but I don’t think I can be failing in all areas because my eldest son, on returning from a day at his Dad’s said, “I love coming home on a Saturday night because you have the house all warm and cosy.  You have music playing and I can smell yummy dinner cooking!” The little humbugs know just what to say to melt my heart don’t they? 

I shall continue living life as it currently is until I return to work in the near future.  It's certainly never dull around here.  To anyone who knows me and saw me at the car wash last week, I apologise for my maniacal behaviour!  I was attempting to lather, scrub and rinse my car all for the price of the one token car wash!  Let's just say, Mission Impossible, is my middle name!