What is love?

School journey... Five days in Swanage with 40+ kids aged 9 to 10. Some friends say I deserve a medal, wine or donations in honour of a fallen soldier teacher- what have I taken away from it? The feeling that I am not ready to be a parent. Serious self doubt has hit me after this trip and for starts, this is not my first school journey! I went away with Year 4 with my last school and took Year 6 to France in the June of this year. 

There really is nothing better than a school journey. On the one hand, it is a very intense bonding session with other people's children where you come back drained, unable to form sentences and ill. On the other, you get to show the children a different side to their teachers- a side where you are not constantly moaning about the lack of reading they have completed, the times tables they haven't learnt or the homework that has disappeared into thin air... One where they see you hanging upside down from monkey bars, drowning in ball pits, almost sliding arse over tit in the mud or dancing like a wild thing to the Harlem Shake.

So yes, the lack of confidence... I suppose this bit normally happens to people before they have a baby. The moment where just before giving birth, you think, "Holy crap, I don't want this to happen!" Or having brought the newborn home from the hospital, the onslaught of well wishers have disappeared and you think, "What on Earth do we do with this squawking heap of flesh that totally depends on us?!" Obviously, I haven't stolen any babies and my experience is from 8 to 11 year old children. Neither is it as if people generally get a lot of parenting practise before they have a child of their own as most are thrown in the deep end (although, it might make my job a little easier if they did...As my husband says, "#justsaying") After the last 5 days, I worry that I am too lazy to be a mum, not organised enough and a bit too grumpy.

I suppose that being a mum is a bit like being a teacher in that generally, you only remember the moments of sheer brilliance or laughing at when it went so wrong that you were waiting for an official to come and take away your licence for being an adult. The other normal bits kind of melt away into nothingness- the moments where two seconds later you can't remember why you were disappointed with their behaviour but you have to keep the grumpy face on for a bit longer or where a voice continuously grinds on you. There is always that moment when that irritation turns into hilarity, like when they make a silly song about where they're staying or about someone washing their wellies (*cue:"Wicked Welly Washer" going through my head for the rest of the day or "Land Yachts... Only £9.99... It's so cool... Buy it now!") The songs will remain in memory whereas the naughtiness becomes forgotten.

In other news, I am now 31 years old (odd years tend to be better than even years) and I went to Guys for allergy testing (I am now allergic to the world). They had the same home telephone number on file from when my Mum and Dad came for genetic testing. I received a letter from Guys this morning and there was a hint of panic on opening it (could it be about the PGD?) but it just turned out to be a list of stuff about my allergies and how I am to avoid eating any fresh fruit, veg or nuts, have pets or generally live. Bloody Guys. They are the root of all evil...