Losing sleep over nursery places

Fiona Leckerman writes I Mummy and she has made all the right moves in the vain hope her son will be accepted into the nursery of her choice…has he?  Have you lost sleep waiting for N Day?

Insomnia is a funny thing, like in flight turbulence, it sort of creeps up on you and you’re left bolted to your seat, unable to escape, forced to experience its potency. I’ve hit turbulence, night turbulence that keeps me from restful sleep. And, the cause is worry. Like all mothers I’m worrying about my children and in particular my little boy who finds out on Monday whether he has got in to the nursery we have chosen for him.

We filled in all the forms and attended Synagogue to get his points, as the crow flies we’ve positioned ourselves ready to be caught, and have been waiting, worrying and waiting. Waiting for an already forgone conclusion that he will most probably not get in. Although our unrealistic hope is still simmering away amongst the other worries within our boiling pot of parentage.

And, yes, I may be an actual Jewish mother, but my neurosis is shared with all my other mummy friends, friends who are applying to both Jewish and non Jewish schools. We all want our precious babies, our Boobalas, to get into a good local school. But, the true reality of it is there are too many kids for places available, so some of us, will inevitably miss out. No amount of chicken soup will save the day. Not even shtooping the Rabbi will improve our chances.

Of course our children will survive if they don’t achieve entry into the school we have crowned as King, the institution we have decorated with a golden halo and imagined our child adorned with shining medals which make manifest its scholastic righteousness. Of course they will thrive somewhere else as they would’ve done there. Their achievements will be as great and their failings as supported. Their lives will be as enriched. My education was not hampered by my admission to the all girls school, known (mockingly) as the Whore House on the Hill. Despite its failings as a school I am neither a whore, nor (as it happens) do I live on a hill. I managed to do quite well academically.

So why the chest tightening worry? Why the tears? (oh, there’s been a few!) Why the fever burning up in discussions with the other mums. I’ll tell you exactly what it is, it is our total lack of control. We who have fed, watered, bathed, clothed and held our children’s hands up until this point, are suddenly left adrift and impotent.

And, so we wait as N Day approaches, my sleep depletes, and I can’t help but think that all this is only for a nursery place. Next year we have to do it all over again.

Fiona Leckerman aspired to be on Broadway, hot stepping under the spotlights of a packed theatre. She got as far as backstage in the West End. But, she gave that all up to become a Mummy and has found that this is her greatest starring role. With her Blog I, Mummy she chronicles her passage through the sleepless nights to create a thoughtful array of mummy musings that are truthfully open and often funny. Follow her on twitter @fifileflo for witty updates of that journey.

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