Flying by the seat of my pants does have its benefits

Carrie Carlisle

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As we approach the end of school year finish line, two very district camps of mum emerge.

One is ultra organised, super efficient, calm and collected. A spreadsheet personified, and trotting about in spotless kitten heels.

The other looks like Forest Gump, aprés his three-year run around the U.S.A. (Yes, including the shaggy beard if, like me, you also are a fully paid-up member of team Perimenopause.)

I'll let you guess which camp I have pitched my raggedy tent with half the poles missing in.

I spend most of the last few weeks of the school year apologising.

"Sorry I forgot to come to my daughter's second sports day of the week. I knew it was happening, I just turned up at the wrong school."

"Apologies for donating a bottle of Calpol to summer fair bottle pull, it was the only unopened and in date item in my entire house."

My chaotic calendar-keeping isn't even reserved to school days at this point.