After three years of marriage she’s leaving me. It’s all come as a bit of a shock but I guess really I should have expected it. There’s been talk of it before, but thankfully it never happened. This time it looks different though. I’m slowly coming to terms with it, and trying to look positively at just how Samuel and I are gonna cope without her here. For a whole 48 hours.
It must have been a tough choice though. Stay here with SJ and me and the leftover kids, or go to an activity centre for 3 days with most of the year group. Hmmm… Either way, sleepless nights and long tiring days are almost guaranteed. I’m not sure which is harder to look after though: us or 60 nine year olds.
Joking apart I must confess to being a little anxious about it. I’m sure we’ll manage fine, but it will be strange. Last year the other teachers went so we weren’t seperated with a newborn, but this year that excuse doesn’t work. I guess if we’d thought it through then we could have done something about it 9-10 months ago but that may have led to other problems.
We all went to look at the centre to get an idea of what space there was and what activities could be done. SJ loved it – lots of space, large lake, other kids playing football. Could have left him there for ages.
Of course, that’s always one of the biggest fears on trips like this. Losing a child. Confession time: I’ve done it! Not something I talk about much, but I managed to lose a child once in a Churchyard. Thankfully only for a few minutes: I realised he was missing by the bottom of the road, but he had no idea we’d all left. He was ok and (perhaps more importantly) so were his parents. Phew!
Reminds me of a story I heard about a Sunday School outing to the sea almost twenty years ago. There were 17 children and the required number of adults, carefully calculated by dividing the height of the tallest child by the average windspeed, or whatever the formula was back then. Being a diligent (or paranoid) Sunday School leadership, the children were counted frequently throughout the day. Every time there were 17. They had a fantastic day, no problems, no lost or drowned children, and at the of the afternoon it was time to get the train home. As ever the children were counted onto the train. As ever there were 17. They took their seats and chattered the whole way home. Just to be sure, once again, the children were counted off the train. Eighteen. In fact, it turned out there had been eighteen most of the day. A young lad had joined the group and followed them around for most of the day. I’m reliably informed that the Police reunited him with his anxious family swiftly and they all lived happily ever after.
Suddenly the thought of being on my own with SJ for 48 hours is quite appealing. It certainly seems that I’ve got the easier few days!
