What's it like to be ... the new kid on the block?

The playground is a battle field..

I moved from Sydney to London just over 4 years ago.  I had a couple of work contacts but that was it.  I didn't know anyone. I had a baby and I didn't know anything or anyone else with a baby.  I started an internship with a leisure magazine which is completely different from being a lawyer, which I used to be.  Again, I didn't know anything and I didn't know anyone.  I joined a tennis club to play social tennis. I didn't know anyone. Notice a recurring theme? - either I'm friendless or I'm always the new kid on the block.  However, this is not a woe-is-me-tale.  Far from it. There are millions of people at one point or another who find themselves in the position of being the new kid.  Such is the way of the world.  Almost 5 started Reception at a Preparatory School a fortnight ago. She didn't know anyone. Almost 5 started school but in reality it felt like I had started school.  The playground is a battle field. Let me enlighten you.

It's not the kids I am talking about - it's the parents and a whole new world. Absolutely everybody gets checked out and everyone gets a nickname whether you like it or not. But here are the general ones:

'High Impact Parents' : aka Hippies or playground mafia. They rule the school.

'Chummy Mummy': aka Mrs Big, hugely community-spirited and knows the timetable.  All seeing all knowing - who you bought your Chelsea tractor from and whether you have gel-nails or acrylic. Too friendly to dislike.

'Sweaty Betty': aka Sporty Spice, always turns up in various sporting/riding outfits on the way to something after drop off.  No-one believes she's had children from the size of her hips.

'Crummy Mummy': often late, looking dishevelled and forgotten something. Incredibly nice and nice to be around or 'Scummy Mummy' on a bad day. A bit terse and always wants to give up smoking but doesn't quite get there.

'Earth Mummy': aka Ommi Mummy - yoga, green, cycles to school and thinks about her carbon footprint.  Stares down the mothers driving their Chelsea tractors at drop off.

So over the past fortnight I've had: a curriculum meeting on maths, writing and spelling (bear in mind that Almost 5 is almost five years old!); drinks night to meet other parents; coffee morning to meet other mums, meetings with the parents association, weekly newsletters, nearly new uniform sales, reading and writing homework and Almost 5 introducing herself to me in French. 

The highlights:

• a frantic panicked email sent around to all the new mothers seeking urgent help! - crisis - her cashmere knit from Matches had been eaten by moths in her armoire over Summer and she was desperately in search of a 'cashmere' clinic to repair it.  We now all know that such a clinic does exist in Fulham thanks to Cashmere Mum. 
• party bags are still permitted at birthday parties this year, despite a couple of mothers suggesting that we all agree to ban them as they are un-green and a waste of money. Poo poo Green Mums.

I also overhead a mother commenting that mothers are divided into two categories: either a "Baby-on-Board" kind of mother (ie the ones who put those stickies on their car) or you're not. Not that I know what that means.

So which type of mother am I? I do drive a Chelsea tractor, I do occasionally arrive in sporting outfits on my way to tennis. I am anally organised and I do know the timetable but I don't squarely fall into a particular type and maybe that's the point. Perhaps we're a combination. They'll probably all be lovely and we'll end up being friends by the end of first term but that's a long long way away and besides I'm more interested in finding out what my nickname is for now....