In a galaxy far, far away November 21, 2009

Star Wars reigns supreme in this household, and I think I better jump on the bandwagon before I am left behind, lost forever in the mediocrity of Planet Real Life.

  

C, at 4, is now an expert on all that is Star Wars. From the entire cast, to the names of every single creature/planet/spacecraft. He also knows that it was dreamt up by none other than George LUCAS - ‘like me mummy!’ he says. C’s middle name is George. Give it time I’m sure he will be telling people that the creator of Star Wars is a long-lost relative.

 

C & H have had light sabers. Blue and Green. The colour, apparently, is very important.

 

Luke has a blue one.  Luke & the colour blue is C’s favourite. H is YodaGreen. I told C I would like a purple one, and he informed me that colour light saber belongs to Mace Windu ( Windoo??- not sure). I have to believe he is right, as I have no clue. Nor do I have a clue about Boba Fett, Taun Taun’s or why Padme had that bizarre lipstick thing going on.

  

What I do know, however, is how C has managed to accumulate such a lot of knowledge on a subject in a short space of time. Okay it isn’t the Russian Revolution, the Alphabet or objects that are green. Instead it is a clear demonstration to me, that the desire to learn about a subject is all you need to learn about that subject.

  

 Motivation? Right here, thanks. Willingness to expand on the new found knowledge? Check. No need to test to see if the knowledge has been retained. No planned outcomes or objectives, coursework or measurement against what others may know about the subject.

  

From Star Wars Lego, drawing pictures, looking at space rockets and planets, to role playing. It’s all there. It may not be my chosen subject, but I can facilitate it- and I can learn alongside too ( I have already learnt how to Duh-duh-duh-duuh-dee-duh-duh-dee-duh) to the Imperial Death March, and I am out of this world at being Darth-Vader-with-the-funny-breathing (although I’m pretty sure I never heard Darth say, ‘I will just come and kill you when I’ve washed this plate up- but hey, we improvise well).

  

Dying is my speciality- I am soo good. I can do slow & agonising, to quick- fire, draping myself over furniture as I go. I can do dead-come-alive-for-one-last-grab, and dying-crawl-across-the-floor-rasping. The bit I like best is the 40 seconds of face down on the floor having a rest, before I am shoved over and find twenty little fingers trying to prise my eyelids open amid howls of laughter.

  

Sounds horrific? I wondered too about that too, pre-kids. Never would my kids have toy guns/swords etc. Encourage fighting role play? No way.

  

But you know what? They will use anything to make a ‘weapon’ with, whether you like it or not. Fingers, Duplo, sticks, teddies, my dressing gown belt(!)

  

These days I wonder something else entirely- that children may need to act out these themes of death and fighting in the safe confines of play- where the idea isn’t to hurt but to understand what motivates others to fight or protect themselves. Perhaps it is a part of emotional development that I shouldn’t stop, or distract from right now.

  

So I join in- with my hairbrush ( I’m all for imaginative play).

 

‘I’ve got my Light Saber,’ I declare, leaping into action.

 

I get The Withering Look from C- one that could melt Han from his carbonite and possibly free Leia-in-a-gold-bikini from Jabba’s clutches .

 

‘That’s a hair brush mummy’.

 

 

Oh dear. Strong in this one, the sarcasm is.

 

 

 

 

I’m all CRB’d out, thanks November 12, 2009

*sigh*

 

What a week. If  home educators haven’t been accused of being mentally ill , pregnant women accused of being unfit because of their houses being half-decorated,  mothers fined for feeding the ducks, then all the rest of us should never, ever look at a child, go near a child, help a child or indeed be within a hand-span radius of a child. Unless of course you have a magic bit of paper that tells you and the whole, wide world that you are safe, safe, safe.

 

Take today for instance. I went to a meeting today that just so happened to be in a Children’s Centre.

The ones that have sprung up like posh little lean-to’s at the side of most primary schools. They are heated VERY well, have lovely carpetskitchenswhiteboards&ergonomicallydesignedchairs. Posters adorn every wall in joyous colours. And its all for the kids, and anyone with any (good, wholesome and clean) interest in kids.

Never seen a kid in one. However…

 

At my meeting today we were told, in no uncertain terms that we were to leave the building at or preferably before 12 noon. The meeting was to finish then, and there could be No Lingering. No popping to the loo, no running back for forgotten coats or queries. Move directly to the Door, and do not pass go.

 

Why?

 

Well, apparently the superduperlovely Children’s Centre also houses the canteen (methinks that they just chopped a bit of the school off and rebranded it).

 

The shiny-faced and possibly ravenous children have to cross from their school, across the foyer and into the canteen. Our meeting- a women’s group of voluntary workers were in a secure room off the foyer.

 

The children must not meet us. Nor see us, nor ever know that we were there.

 

Again, why?

 

Are they so dangerous, these children, that they might eat us, claw our eyes out, demand our child-safe credentials?

 

Ahh- that I can do. You see, I’m all good. I have the bit of magic paper, as do all the other ladies. In fact I have had about 7 of these magic bits of papers in the last few years. And I have been referenced too. And Police Checked.

They haven’t done a DNA profile or fingerprinting on me yet. I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. I am expecting a full-body x-ray invitation any day soon. Just in case I’m ‘packing’ a bag of sweeties or a basket of puppies in my handbag.

 

If it’s not me that’s the problem- it must be the kids that are a problem for me. Mabe they have a secret conker-hoarder that somehow avoided being frisked on the way into school ( those darn conkers can cause a nasty slip injury- there’s a poster on the wall to prove it).

 

This is accepted. The meeting went ahead, and we scurried out like guilty people, lest we accidentally got in the way of A Child. Why did I accept it? I’m not sure. Groupthink maybe, a slow surrender to whatever will be will be. A desire to be part of the meeting that morning.

 

I regret it.

 

But now, in my own home, with my own children, whom I didn’t need to be CRB checked to have, and don’t need to be CRB checked to raise while under 5 (so far), and for whom I will most definitely be saying NO to being licenced  in order to facilitate their learning- I realised, too late, that I should have stood up and asked very loudly, WHY?

 

 

Having the time November 5, 2009

 

Our little family managed to have a little more time recently since Flicka the pony died, and withdrawing C from playgroup, but it has been so strange getting used to it. We still rush around for some stuff, getting to work , getting husband to work etc, but more and more I have been discovering going at a much slower pace.

 

The good bit is saying ‘yes’ to more things. So now there is no time limit on dog walking- if those leave need kicking some more, the little Lucii get to kick them ( and I grit my teeth and try not to think hidden dog crap etc).

 

 Need to pop to the shops? Yes we can walk. Though it does mean that a 10 minute walk is now an hour because we go at fairy-step pace with H.

 

Yes we can crawl after the snail in the garden to see where he is off to (unless I can no longer ignore the urge to pee, or finally the hunger pains strike).

 

Shall we build a Star Wars rocket whose pieces are spread through 3 giant buckets of Lego? Yes ( though it took three sodding hours to find that essential last lost piece, and for once C didn’t lose interest before we found it-worst mummy luck).

 

Ahhh.

But still all good fun, and it’s getting easier to quit asking them to hurry up as much.

Now maybe it’s because we are new to this HE stuff, or maybe it was because of holding a conversation with C that didn’t include a) the noise a light saber makes  b) exactly how much Star Wars toys is too much for Santa to bring – but we took a ‘thing’ and ran with it the other day.

 

It started with the public toilets at our dog walking spot. A grand start. The light was flickering on and off, which sparked the conversation about a power cut we had last year. Our street was on a mobile generator for three days (noisy, but at least we could all watch telly and cook). We moved onto electricity, pylons, sub-stations, and finally the power station. Um, which we live near. Well, about 10 miles away. C wanted to go right then and see it.

 

I said ‘No’ and then wondered immediately. Why had I said no? We were in the car anyway, we hadn’t got many plans, and it was raining. So we went. Now it isn’t my idea of a riveting day out, and nor are we in at a stage where we could discuss the politics of a coal-burning power plant- but both kids we in awe of the giant cooling towers and the gas stacks that looked like rocket launchers (of course).

 

Now, on a journey C will point out every sub-station he can recognise (turns out those yellow hazard pics of a person being electrocuted are pretty effective as a signpost), and counts the pylons. Yay.

 

But we had time and we had fun, and we did some learning.

Next week it could be the sewage works- count us in!!

A little bit of satisfaction… October 26, 2009

…as we walked past The Primary School today. There is a poster on the notice board giving school admissions dates, and telling the likes of me that my child will be ‘due’ to start school in Sept 2010. Not eligible, not invited, not if required or desired.

”Due”. As in scheduled or expected.

Thanks, but no thanks.

Apparently the ‘closing date’ is 11th December, so that will be another happy ‘deadline’ to miss.

Sunday Strolling… October 25, 2009

We completely forgot about the clocks going back last night, and wondered why Birches Valley Health Sculpture Trail was so quiet this morning.

We had a lovely peaceful walk which both boys loved, and I’m pretty sure no education or learning was involved (How could there be? There was no desks, pens or paper…and it’s a Sunday ).

Firstly the park- C & H played hard, but this was the only pic that wasn’t blurred trying to catch up with them:

 

 

 

I think exercise like this is called 'PE' in school

 

 

 

Onto the trail, and worshipping womankind:

 

Or as C called it; ''The monster with the big bottom''. Um....

Some beautiful health and nature inspired artwork by local artists, schools, students and community groups:

We found a secret path into a teeny wood

 

A dark and scary teeny wood...

 

Where ''Tree Fairies'' ,as C called them, live.

 

Little doors and rooms carved into the branches

 

We've been reading about the Hare...

 

... and the Tortoise, as our bedtime book

 

Three bears, three chairs

Flash Forward? October 17, 2009

While snuggling H down to sleep tonight ( in my bed no less- shock horror!) I have had various things swimming around in my head. A little scenario that kept coming back and back, and goes far beyond the persecution of home educators. A vision of the future perhaps?

 

It was prompted also by many friends I know wondering and failing to understand exactly what my problem was about ‘being registered’. 

 

Indeed, one friend, a primary school teacher, was amazed that it was legal to home educate as well as requiring no registration. 

 

Surely, she said ‘they’ should know what I intend to do when my kids are of ’school age?’ I asked why, and she replied that ‘they’ needed to know my children were being educated.

 I told her that was one of my responsibilites as a parent, and one that I didn’t undertake lightly. She shook her head sadly at me- probably wondering how she could help me see the light.

So..maybe I can help her see another light. Where parenting has to be registered. And checked. And tested. After all ‘they’ need to know that ‘parenting’ is being done just right. Probably with a curriculum and perhaps some PATS? ( That’s Parent Aptitude Tests in case she’s wondering). Perhaps the odious Gina Ford can head the review, with Jo Frost and Clare Byam-Cook eagerly weighing in with their ‘evidence’?

There is a whole raft of kids to whom this applies, that are currently ‘hidden’. Those under 5’s who have thus far escaped detection, but to whom all beady eyes will soon be turning.

So my sceanrio goes a little like this:

 

Doorbell:Ding Dong

Mrs. Smith [answers door]: Hello?

Local Parental Authority: Hello Mrs. Smith, I’m your LPA for your Parenting visit, can I come in?

Mrs. S[confused]: Parenting visit?

LPA: Yes. We wrote to you 2 weeks ago to say we were coming for your parenting review.

Mrs. S: Did you? I didn’t receive anything…

LPA: Well never mind, I need to come in now for your appointment.

Mrs. S: It’s not very convenient right now, can you come back another time?

LPA: Mrs Smith, I’m afraid you cannot refuse our visit. It’s The Law.

Mrs. S: Oh, well…er, you better come in then.

[Inside there are toys on the floor, baby Johnny is dressed in a vest and nappy. He is chewing on a mug coaster while attempting to crawl into a washing basket].

LPA: Hmmm.

Mrs. S: So what do you need to know?

LPA: Well I need to have a chat with little Jenny…

Mrs. S : Johnny.

LPA: Pardon me?

Mrs. S : His name is Johnny, and he’s a boy.

LPA: Er…quite. I need to check you are parenting ‘Johnny’ in a suitable and efficient manner, and I need to have your report for your expected parenting objectives for the next year. Oh and I need to interview Johnny too. Alone, or with a trusted individual.

Mrs. S: Er…right…well…

LPA: Let’s get straight to it. Parenting. [eyes up soggy coaster] Do you provide Johnny with suitable educational toys, bought with safety in mind and tailored for individual aptitude?

Mrs. S :  Um…He plays with a wide range of things. Children’s toys, but also daily household things- jugs, wooden spoons, that sort of thing. He loves my hairbrush….. ( tails off when she sees LPA’s raised eyebrow)

LPA: I see.[scribbles furiously] Let’s talk about clothes. I assume he does have some?

Mrs. S: Of course! I was just getting him dressed when you rang the doorbell. I…I…I  can show you if you like…

LPA: I’m sure I believe you Mrs. S…Now onto feeding. I am assuming he’s weaned now. He’s…( checks notes) ahh 7 months… you must be really going well with the puree then?

Mrs. S: Well we have been taking his lead really. He eats finger foods when he wants but mostly he still prefers breastmilk.

LPA: Finger foods? Breastmilk? Mrs. Smith, surely you realise you don’t have to still breastfeed? And I don’t think finger foods are particularly suitable. What would Annabel Karmel say?

Mrs. S: We are both happy with baby-led weaning and breastfeeding….

LPA: Well it might be worth putting in the report when you intend to stop, as a goal to work towards. [wags finger] You don’t want a clingy child now!

Mrs S: I’m sure we won’t…

LPA [interrupting]: Righty onwards…We need to decide what you intend to manage parenting-wise over the next year. Over to you Mrs. Smith- what are your goals?

Mrs. S: I …er…I hadn’t really thought about it. I wanted to go with the flow and go at Johnny’s pace really. I wanted him to develop and learn the things he wanted to learn.

LPA: Ahh there’s a problem there you see, Mrs Smith. We need to know how Johnny is doing and if he is doing it the same as all the other kids. We have attainment charts to tick off.  Shall I start? These are standard things…hmmm let me see, we are a little late in getting to you- a shortage of LPA’s you see. So from 7 months to 19months…ahh. How about these: crawling, walking, teething, feeding with cutlery, talking at least 50 words, ooh and potty training. How does that sound Mrs Smith?

Mrs. S: Are you serious?

LPA: Of course my dear. We need to know that you are able to provide a parenting curriculum for Johnny, that prepares him for school, then a job later on. We need to know you are up to the task and are keeping him safe. That reminds me- do you have socket covers and baby gates?

Mrs. S: Teething? Potty training?

LPA: Yes my dear. Although…it is often a little difficult to do a PAT on potty training, but often we just require you to show us the finished product in the potty. Which we can take away to DNA test. We don’t want any cheating do we? [Chuckles].

Mrs. S  [faintly]: A PAT?

LPA: Yes, Johnny will need to undertake some PATS at the end of the year. We need to know if you have achieved your goals, and our rigorous testing can show us if Johnny is attaining the standard you have set for him. If not ( lowers voice), we can issue a Mandatory Daycare Order.

Mrs. S: A what?

LPA: An MDO. If it appears that Johnny needs more professional parenting, we can make you send him to a Daycare Provider. After all, they are the experts. They know everything there is to know about parenting. In fact..I see a day where the  Daycare Provision will be compulsory from 6 weeks, and where everyone will send their children!

Mrs. S: Oh my God! I need a drink…

LPA : You like a drink in the day then? Hmmm I better get onto interviewing Johnny to see what he thinks of his mother drinking…

Mrs. S: I meant water, I feel a little ill….

LPA: Oh. Well, anyway, I need to interview Johnny. Without you.

Mrs. S: I’m not sure that Johnny will be happy with me leaving you with him…

LPA: Well…what about your designated ‘Safe Adult?’

Mrs. S : My what?

LPA: Someone whom you can leave him, but isn’t you or your husband. In case you try to answer for him.

Mrs. S: He’s 7 months old…

LPA: Do you have someone? Health Visitor? Daycare Provider?

Mrs. S : He doesn’t go to any daycare, and he doesn’t really know the Health Visitor, we haven’t been to her since he was 6 weeks old.

LPA: Why not?

Mrs. S: Well…it’s not compulsory, and I felt we were doing fine on our own. She’s there if we need her, but we haven’t so far.

LPA: Hmmm. So little Johnny doesn’t have an adult he can confide in?  He’s quite the hidden child, isn’t he Mrs Smith?

Mrs. S [shaking head vigorously]: Nooo..we go to lots of mother and baby groups, singing, swimming, breastfeeding support groups. We have a busy life, really.

LPA: A-ha so you don’t parent him mostly in your home then? He doesn’t seem to have a set routine at all.

Mrs. S: He’s 7 months old…He’s doing great the way we are raising him.

LPA: Well that’s for me to decide, Mrs Smith. I think I have enough evidence about you and your parenting to make my report. I shall let you know our judgement on your suitability to parent in due course. Have a good day!

Mrs. S [confused and frantic]: Wait! Stop! NOOOO!!

***

I wonder if my friend would even get it then?

 

 

Conkers and Darth Vader October 13, 2009

    I’ve been neglecting writing anything for a few weeks, as I’ve spent more time reading other blogs and watching the drama unfold from the Select Committee. I’m feeling really at a low point with it. To write about our days home edding has felt like its been too ’tainted’ to manage.

But write I will, because I feel that it’s so important not to lose sight of why we chose this path with C and H, even when it seems that choice is in jeopardy.

It almost feels that we’ve done nothing much recently, but only when I stop to think, do I realise we have done so much. We have done lots of autumn walks and are relishing in the nice weather and the falling leaves. We’ve spent quite a lot of time searching for conkers and acorns while the parks and fields are quiet. It’s been peaceful and relaxing. We’ve done baking, painting, counting, visiting libraries, parks and farms, building ( Lego), climbing and going to various baby/breastfeeding groups

 H is walking more than being carried out on walks, although it can be difficult sometimes when boys and dogs all want to go in different directions. H is getting used to following along much more than running away, and C is finding out that sometimes he has to compromise when H gets to choose where we walk next.

We are playing a lot of ‘Star Wars’ too when walking, as this is C’s new passion. We are all recruited to the cast ( I get to be Princess Leia- minus the bun-hair) while H is either Darth Vader or R2D2. Shaun tends to be Han, and C is pretty much always Luke. The dogs double as Storm Troopers/Darth/ Chewy. It gets a lot of strange looks as C often comes charging out of a bush shouting that Stormtroopers are after him…

C’s other new passion is cutting with scissors. We finally cottoned onto the fact that he is very much left-handed, and bought left-handed scissors which have helped him so much with his ‘work’. We do not own a catalogue with all pages intact, and the growing pile of pictures for the Christmas wish list is getting scarily large.

I’m pretty sure this wasn’t how the cutting started out, but we suddenly have found ourselves in a place where every toy is desired. It’s a massive difference from last year when all he wanted was a packet of Spiderman pants. Not sure how to handle the present wish list situation just yet- will  have to think some more.

Going to attempt some pictures, bear with me :

 

 

Darth ‘H’ Vader

 

Luke ‘C’ Skywalker

 

Stormtroopers!

A bullying life lesson October 2, 2009

 

How will they learn to cope in the real world if they haven’t had bad stuff happen to them in school?’

 

 I got this comment *again* this week when talking to someone I know in passing. She was telling me terribly important stuff about how my kids would be missing out on all the social interaction in school, the good and the bad. She felt that being on the receiving end of bullying was preparation for adult life.

As an example, she let me in on a little tidbit of info- her daughter had been bullied in the previous school year by a boy who spent a fair bit of time slapping her, throwing objects at her and being generally disruptive in class. She concluded by saying that she had struggled to get support from the school, but for the time being things had settled down. She had found herself helpless to aid her daughter, the (supposedly good school) could not help, and the daughter didn’t find any solutions herself. The bully simply moved onto a fresh target. Sorted.

Unfortunately so had another bully moved on, and her daughter is now being targeted by a girl who desired some fresh blood.

It astounded me to the depth to which this kind of behaviour is ‘accepted’. Not accepted in that a parent doesn’t feel distressed- this mother obviously did, but that the bigger picture seems like a yawning chasm to her. It was school and this is what happens to some kids. What other choice is there?

Why and how does this treatment by a child to a child (or indeed a teacher to a child- which has just set off another memory I might need to come back to later) seem to be such good preparation for adult life?

I felt defensive that she thought that in missing this treatment my children somehow would be unprepared for adulthood.  So I asked her where in her adult life had she been physically assaulted in her place of work, without consequence for that person? Where had she felt compelled to return day after day a place where physical harm was taking place, feeling there was no solution or no one to help? That she could not choose to leave, find another place of work?  Would she have put up with it, returning happily day after day managing to learn and do the best work possible?

I could have wondered more with her, but I realised I could not demonstrate another perspective to her, because she really didn’t want to question her own choice, just mine.

I feel sad that her daughter will attend a place for much of her waking childhood, in the company of peers who hurt her, in the company of adults who do not protect her, and she feels she has no choice in it, based on the fact that her mother feels she has no choice in it.  Just get through it, then take up the remnants after those school years ( the best of your life, remember) and rebuild/start your life, your identity, when you can get out.

I would much rather let my children have free will about the people they interact with, and the places they choose to be in because they are safe for them. Now. Not when they get to be of an age where they say No and realise they don’t have to put up with being treated like that.

I see it already emerging. If a child has hurt C i.e. in a play park, he moves away, has a quiet time on his own, and chooses a different course of playing. He rarely looks to me to find a ’solution’ in these situations. He doesn’t have to tolerate being hurt and still feel he has to go back for more. Likewise, if he has been the child hurting, I see other children quietly moving away from him and playing elsewhere. Often this is enough to send him a message to alter his own behaviour, and he is usually welcomed back without fanfare or reproach from the other children.

And what of the bullied children who grow to be adults who never manage to say no? Crippled by their own self worth, worried about acceptance from others? Those feeling of powerlessness that follow them into adult life? The children who never make it to adulthood?

I’m so glad my kids will miss this school lesson above all others.

 

A different path September 28, 2009

I was pondering today how we came to be on the path of parenting that we are travelling along, as C lay on the floor of a shop have an almighty tantrum regarding the ‘wrong’ bag of mini cookies being purchased. After the horrified stares of shop assistants and customers alike, and a swift exit, things appeared to have calmed down. During the course of the day we have had five more similar tantrums, all about various things, and all with little connection to each other. A very out-of -sorts day for C, but not an unusual one.

 

There are some days that seem impossible to overcome. I start to wonder if there is really something wrong with my eldest child in terms of behaviour. Have I somehow broken him? Will he ever stop? And what the hell I should do when C is at the height of his behaviour, that means we all get through it while having some sort of balance remaining?

 

The more I’ve watched C today, the more I have realised something. If there is a connection to his behaviour from one tantrum, to calm, then back to another tantrum- he doesn’t see it or manage to articulate it. As soon as he is calm, he forgets that it happened.

Instead of dwelling on just how awful, stressed or helpless I have felt, maybe I just need to do the same and forget about it? It happened, it’s done with, move on.

 

I guess the judgements I feel from others make it hard to move on. From strangers judging me and my child on that one encounter, to friends quietly cataloguing their own opinions about what they would have done if only they were C’s parent. Maybe I just need to be with people that ‘get it’ a little more, and ignore the people whom I will never see again, or whose opinions mean little to me.

 

My (home educating) friend ‘gets it’. Somehow things always seem fresher after a talk with her. It is easier to accept fallibility as a mother, to renew confidence in being able to remain calm and to know not all others measure your kid’s behaviour against your parenting yardstick.

 

My musings led me to another couple of thoughts.

Had we taken a different path and not met my home educating friend, he would have very likely been in our little local school round the corner next year.

And had C been born just four days earlier, he would have been in this ‘school year’. 

I just can’t imagine how that would have been for C if either of those two things had happened.

 

I suppose in the first instance, I would hazard a guess that C would still be having those tantrums in class, and would have been labelled pretty quickly as the ‘problem’ kid. The one who couldn’t keep still, had too much energy, talked too much, and asked too many questions. Maybe he would have been judged for having the wrong name?

I can imagine his spirited nature being crushed into compliance, his questions hushed and his need to run free measured out in small doses (weather permitting).

So maybe those outbursts of behaviour aren’t so bad after all? After all, the spirit in him makes me realise he will please himself not just others, and isn’t afraid to speak up.

 

And how did we get here? This home educating path wasn’t the route we thought we would be taking. Indeed we moved house specifically to send our (then unborn) child to my old school.

Then I found my home educating friend, who challenged my thoughts on many things- extended breast feeding, co-sleeping, larger families and not sending your kids to school. I recall questioning her at length all of those well worn FAQ’s which she very patiently gave her perspective on as if it was the first time she had ever been asked them. It was fascinating, and I wanted to know more. And more.

 

Who knows – if I hadn’t gone to that baby group she ran when C was 5 weeks old, we could be going down a very different path right now. One in which I would be more concerned about controlling behaviour, coercing behaviour or eradicating his behaviour in order that C would find it better to fit in at school.

 

Instead C has his tantrums, gets over it, and moves on. He gets to run and work off his energy in a way he sees fit. He gets to ask questions when he wants. He gets to show his whole range of emotions that he feels are necessary at the time, ones that make us all belong to the human race.

 

I get to be his mummy and ponder away some more.

A round-up September 27, 2009

We’ve had a busy few weeks here, well, I have anyway.  I haven’t updated much because I’ve been doing work on breastfeeding counselling stuff, helping to put breastfeeding guidelines in place at work and while also trying to clear out mountains of stuff from cupboards etc. By the end of the day it’s been easier to collapse on the sofa than try anything more taxing!

We’ve had a drama or two here though, as C-man was sent to hospital last week after a 3 day limp that the GP suspected was an irritable hip. As a nurse, I tend to imagine the worst, and visions of long weeks in traction due to something like Perthes disease swam through my mind. I was already at work that day and so joined Shaun, and the kids on the children’s ward downstairs. Cue the longest day not spent working in hospital in my life.

C-man was quite hysterical at having any doctor near him, and freaked when the student nurse approached with her tympanic thermometer- despite having let our GP do it not an hour before. I felt pretty sorry for the student nurse, but I’m sure she felt pretty sorry for me as I got headbutted at one point. A few sidelong glances from other nurses gave me the impression they thought I had one of ‘those kids’. I just saw a kid who was pretty scared, having only ever been in hospital to meet Daddy as he came out of work.

Unfortunately C-man required and X-ray and blood tests. He aced the x-ray, but we were pretty worried about the bloods, especially as it took a lot to persuade him the numbing cream wasn’t going to hurt him. Kudos to the nurses on the kids ward, they were great at distracting him while the blood was taken- he never noticed it happening until the doctor had finished. My faith in my hospital after recent scandal was restored, until the nurses discovered the doctor had labelled the blood of the kid before C-man and C-man’s blood with the same name. Both kids needed their blood taking again. C-man was great again- and so were the nurses, but I wasn’t entirely thrilled about the whole thing or the doctor. Plus by this time we had been waiting for nearly 7 hours. We were finally sent home to await results, and by this time C-man’s limp had drastically improved.

Back home, his blood results were fine, and although we have a follow-up tomorrow, I’m pretty sure that it will be put down to a bad knock.

 

On the home education front we are slowly pottering along in a very happy manner. We spend most mornings exploring new places with the dogs. I tend to return home with pockets loaded with feathers, conkers and pine cones ( I have started to refuse dandelions because I forget they are there and they go slimy).

We are making a real effort to get to the library before the books go overdue, and C-man is always excited to go. Last time it was more about DVD’s, which he has discovered the library lends out, but we did borrow Charlie and the Chocolate Factory which he has been enjoying as a first non-picture book. He’s taking an interest in some words, and often asks me to spell out some words for him to look at. And finally he has started to draw faces, and in particular his family (secondary to Buzz Lightyear though!)

He has never been particularly into drawing- he is happiest with glue, scissors and glitter normally, but we are now having a raft of crayoned pictures. I might have to frame a few dozen!

We’ve missed our Home ed group for the last month due to me doing a short breastfeeding peer support course on the same day, but we hope to return in early november as C-man is missing his friends there.

I have previously been worried about how C-man will mix with schooled children as their lives will be very different, but no-one has mentioned this to him, and he seems to integrate so well, especially with older kids, and girls in particular. I love this time when kids seem so unashamedly comfortable with themselves when playing. C-man’s typical introduction is ‘My name is C—, what’s your name? Do you want to play Fireman Sam with me?’

 Watching him tell another kids that he has to go for a wee or that he is scared of something without fear of humiliation is refreshing. And if a tantrum or strange behaviour occurs, other kids just seem to accept it without comment or judgement. Mostly this is with pre-schoolers, and I wonder when that changes? Older kids do not appear to tolerate acting out or innocent introductions quite so easily. Nor do adults it seems- many a time C-man has politely asked a fellow dog-walker the name of their dog, only for his question to be ignored. Apparently he isn’t ‘valid’  or ‘of age’ enough to warrant an answer, and it does sadden me that children get this rough deal by some people.

Anyhoo thats me done for the night- except to ensure this little link is here to peruse- the 2007 Elective Home Education Guidelines for Local Authorities so that it does not go strangely missing again.