Here we go again.

School's out. That should bring a ripple of excitement to me as a mother, but does it? Well, it does but alongside too is that I am holding my breath. Literally. So I cleaned out the fridge last weekend in anticipation, preparation maybe. And started to restock on stuff that would interest a person, who has been behind gates for a while. While there, I begun to think back of my days in boarding school.

Those were the days. In class five is when it all begun. Then, I viewed it as torture leaving my warm household to go live with total strangers. I remember so well the first day. I was so small, not even able to wash my clothes well. I will never know what prompted my parents to take me to boarding school then. Perhaps for lack of good schooling nearby.  I would cry myself to sleep the first few weeks, but wake up to the stern reality that I was on my own and there to determine my destiny. I missed my family terribly. There is nothing worse for a child than to sit there spooning a hot bowl of porridge while thinking of mummy's special breakfast back home.

There were all sorts of stuff to scare a little girl there. First, the headmistress was stern. And I mean real stern. She would look your way and you would begin to confess your sins beforehand. Then would come the slap. Memorable, bint-el-sudan scented. The lingering scent(smell) would be a constant reminder for the rest of the day that you had to behave yourself otherwise. And she wore glasses.

The school was a mission one. That means that there was a big catholic church(mandatory), convent, hospital and inevitably a grave yard. That bordered the school fence. And so on some saturdays, we would revelently watch over the fence as people buried the dead. Which would give us nightmares for days. There was even talk of ghosts. And so you can imagine waking up to go to the wash rooms at night, when it's all so quiet, with the tall trees swaying outside and only the security light on.There were no curtains too. Perfect recipe for terror.

With time I learnt to wash my clothes well(even the white blouses) and to put all sweet memories of home back. That was my first lesson on patience and the power of hope. Hope that tomorrow would come and I could go back home to mummy. Hope that after a while I would get out of that place to a better place. I did get out of that school to the secondary school right across the fence, yes. By then I knew enough about getting what it is I wanted and the fight for survival. Tough little cookie.

And my kids complain school life is hard. Even with the special diet, and teachers who make calls to parents if there is an issue, the works. I tried telling them how we grew up once but was met with rolling eyes. And so I am preparing to welcome theme home. That will involve some sacrifice on my part and hubby's too. Like learning afresh how to knock on their bedroom door and ask that the volume be brought down. And hubby will have to reliquish his hold on the remote. We also have to get used to the now-you-see-it, now-you-don't syndrome. How else do you explain the close to empty fridge that you are sure was well stocked just a few days back?

And now for the seven things you dont know about me. OtienoHongo, here goes.

-I am a firm believer of God, depending on divine wisdom to guide my daily walk.

-I cherish promise keepers. If you make a promise please keep it and if you cannot please state the same.

-I love watching Dr phil is no secret. Anything that helps me understand the working of the mind is cool.

-I laugh a lot. Loudly too. If you can make me laugh, then you are close to my heart.

-I feel deeply for issues of atrocities on women and children. I guese I dislike those who push their weight around.

-I love white chocolate.

-I aspire to highlight issues on every day life.