Job role: Mother. Job spec: organisational skills. That's it.

Well the illustrious day finally arrived, overcast and chilly as is the nature of British weather. I thought I had been the epitome of Ms Organisation, so that I was going to be completely ready to roll this morning. However, last night as I began making the packed lunches for today so that it would be one less thing for me to think about, I noticed that the bread was 5 days past it's use by date. I was going to go with it regardless, but thought the feathery cobwebs of mould might be spotted by a teacher so changed my mind.

I sent husband out into the dark and rainy night to dig into our cavernous chest freezer that hums along quietly to itself in the garage, mostly ignored and often forgotten. I prayed that there might be a loaf of frozen bread loitering in its bowels. And indeed, praise be, there was. So that little crisis solved, I was convinced I was definitely, positively, absolutely ready.

My timings this morning would have made generals in the armed forces weep, such was their precision. I had everything accounted for down to the last minute. And that last minute was scheduled to be our photo taking minute. I turned on the camera and was greeted with the black screen of death sporting a cheery message of: change batteries. Oh joy. I had two small boys, both clean, relatively neat, not covered in strawberry jam despite having had it for breakfast, posing and saying cheese - and nada. So I had to try and charge the thing for just long enought to get me enough battery life to capture the big moment. By dragging out the final pees and ensuring everything was in place (trike at front gate - check, bag in car with lunchbox for pre-school - check, shopping list and wallet for post school drop off grocery dash - check) I managed to squeeze enough power into the camera to squeeze off a few shots.

Son 1 was remarkably calm about the whole going to school experience, neary a tantrum or rail-clinging episode in sight. Admittedly he wouldn't let go of my leg once inside the classroom and refused to write his name of the board but once he'd spotted a computer, he was off like the wannabe geek that he is, and that was that. No final tears from him or me. I was summarily dismissed.

Son 2 was practically horizontal about going to pre-school for a full day. Barely said goodbye before sauntering off to play with the trains.

And so it came to be that I had two children being educated while I got to visit Sainsburys in peace (we never ended up going yesterday). I even managed to fit in several hours of work and managed to pick both children up at their allotted times without any drama.

Feeling rather like the world's most perfect mother ever, I opened both of their bags and read the plethora of notices that spewed out. My feelings of omnipotence vanished fairly sharpish. There are at least 20 different dates between now and the end of October that I need to remember. Everything from PTA meetings to after school football to the harvest festival and coffee mornings. Plus I need to remember which days I've said son 1 will have school lunches and what day of the week he has to take something for show and tell, not to mention the weekly allotted themes. My brain feels as though its seeping gently out of my ears.

In the face of this mountain of random stuff to remember, I've succombed and ordered a Family Life Planner from Organised Mum because it does seem that it will be the only way I possibly manage all these school and pre-school requirements. Not to mention our ridiculously busy social life that seems to be going on between now and Christmas. And of course there are a few work diary items I probably need to record too. Although right about now, running a business seems like a breeze in comparison to keeping up with the school requirements. And this is day 1. Pray tell what the next 16 odd years are going to be like? Actually don't.

Anyway, I have laundry to fold, clothes to iron, lunch boxes to make and marrow chutney to get on the boil because I can think of no other way to get rid of the goddam things which just won't stop growing. But first I need to order some pirate aprons for son 2's third birthday party which is a spit and a fart away. I might wash it all down with some wine.