Punctuality rant

How hard is it to be punctual? Ok I am not the most organised of people and can sometimes be a couple of minutes late when meeting friends, but at least I apologise and appear suitably rushed and flustered.

As the person in charge of administrating attendance at school it is my job to make sure all the children are in school on time, and to check up on any who are not. Being new to this side of things, I went on a training course today, and I have to admit I'm a little overwhelmed. Put the marks in wrong, or in the wrong order and it is deemed illegal. Giving a child the wrong absence code could amount to fraudulent activity by the school and accusations of cooking the books to get the figures above the required percentage. And the timing of latecomers is crucial- any latecomers after 9am are classed as "unauthorised absence/missed session". Furthermore, it is a requirement of my job to immidiately telephone any pupils that have a missing mark once the register closes, in the interest of child welfare and safety. This in itself is a long winded job, one which would be made much easier if a) parents phoned when their kids were sick/at the dentist/moving house and b) if they actually got to school on time.

Sadly it is the same faces on a regular basis that miss the register. I am torn between giving them a ticking off or welcoming them with a "glad you are here" face. I usually go for the latter as I realise it is not usually the fault of the children. But you know, I would much prefer it if the parent didn't skulk behind the gate whilst ushering Tillybud inside, but instead just held their hands up and said "Sorry, we missed the alarm". Which in fairness, some do!

But the worst offender has to be that of the late after schoolers. Most nights there are one or two littlies still waiting 15 minutes after the bell goes for hometime. However tonight, one little poppet was not collected until 4:25, an hour and ten minutes after the bell went and 25 minutes after my official clocking off time. Just across the playground there were also children still around, only they were paying £6 each for the priviledge of After School Club care. We had desperately tried to ring someone to no avail, and had comforted Poppet when she thought mum had disappeared of the face of the earth. But no thanks nor apology were pro-offered for the school's (ie my!) goodwill here.

And so I was late for my evening meal, late for my baby's post-work breastfeed, and late seeing my poorly big girl who had been crying for her mummy all day. And J was not pleased. "If only you could be on time" he sighed as he dished up claggy pasta. I wish.