School... what school?

Now don't get me wrong, I love my children dearly.... but.... isn't the point of having school age children that they actually go to school? In the last two weeks, DS has had three days off for public holidays, one day off (well, a morning at least) due to teachers being unavailable to teach and one day due to a teacher's strike - about the fifth one this year.

In France striking, along with fraud if the newspapers are to be believed, is akin to a national sport and sometimes it seems barely a week goes by without someone blowing a whistle and shouting 'everybody out'! When I saw all the fuss about the teachers in the UK going on strike with all the accompanying shock and horrorI thought wistfully, one strike in 20 odd years.. if only.

My favourite strike had to be the workers at the Paris Opera who, for some bizarre reason, had managed to slip into the 21st Century with a contract written by Louis the Somethingorother which gave them the opportunity to retire at 40 on 90% of their salary. I guess in Louis's day 40 was pretty damned old but now, for heaven's sake!

Back to schools. My DS's school has this lovely system whereby the teachers don't have to confirm whether or not they are strking until 8.45am on the day of the strike. Fine, but school starts at 8.30. So what do you do? Get them up with the lark and stick them on the school bus only to get the call at 8.46am to say that all their teachers are striking and could I come and pick them up please. This involves a round trip of 45kms in the gas guzzling Grand Voyager - I told you it was rural round here. Or do I keep them at home with all the implications that has on my busy social life (as if) not to mention my sanity. This parenthood business isn't easy.