For the past few years I have interviewed The Boy with a set of questions created by Emma from A Matter Of Choice; the questions never change but it's really interesting to see the difference in his answers.
First Week Memories
This is a memory post. One for me, not one which will interest anyone reading it really. My blog tends to be a mix of real life events, play activities, reviews and photographs. 95% of it is written with the audience in mind, sometimes there comes a post where it is so I can remember something. This is one of those times.
Tuesday
I took The Boy into school at our allocated time, and we were accompanied in by the headteacher who was coming to check on the new pupils. I didn't mind her walking in with me as she's actually a parent from my school, so have spoken a few times with her. I handed The Boy over to his new teacher who showed him his peg, hung up his P.E. kit, book bag and told him where to put his lunch bag. Apparently I didn't need to send a second bottle of water in for him to keep in the classroom. We went into the classroom, I showed him where the toilet was and he asked the teacher if she'd like to play dominoes with him. Kissing him and walking away broke my heart, and I was ready for my little self-indulgent weep when I found the headteacher next to me again. While I understand that she was trying to reassure me, I was a bit miffed that I was robbed of my tears. This was a big moment for both of us.
It was only when I got home and the sun broke through the mist, that I realised I'd forgotten to give him a hat. I couldn't nip one in for him as I didn't want to disturb him.
When I picked him up at 3.20pm, he was happy to see me and I noted the big difference between nursery staff who were happy to share what he'd done that day and how much he ate, a teacher doesn't seem to do that. As a teacher myself I get that, but as a parent on the first day, I'd have appreciated the opportunity to find out about my precious bundle and whether he'd been anxious or not. A lesson learnt for my own professional practise.
Over the course of the three hours following picking him up, I managed to ascertain that he'd; played tag with the teacher on the field (best bit of the day), painted a rainbow house, listened to Winnie the Witch, eaten most of his lunch (no yoghurt or mini roll but did eat his wrap, crisps & fruit which is good considering the dinner hall was a distraction), played dominoes, blew his nose himself, asked to go to the loo and had milk, banana and apple for snack. He couldn't remember any children's names, which is what he said about nursery too.
A successful first day then!
Wednesday
Nana took and picked up The Boy today, a difficult step for me, but needs must!
The Boy had a terrible night, and woke up with a horrendous hacking cough that sounded like whooping cough. His nose was both blocked and streaming, and it was the type of grottiness that would have seen him stay home from nursery, but not something that I could do to him on only his second day of school. A hearty dose of Calpol and he was in the hands of Nana to take to school.
After I'd staggered home from school, I had time to give him a cuddle before I whacked some pasta on for him to eat dinner. This earlier dinnertime is something that's really tricky to adjust to when I'm working until 15 minutes before he needs to eat. Time to stock up on some Little Dish meals for my working days until I can batch cook him something that can be reheated easily.
Thursday
Another Nana day, and I am finding it particularly difficult to not be the one to pick him up at the end of the school day. To not be the one who sees that little face, carries the lunchbag with a few scraps left in it or the bookbag with the latest painting, not hold his sticky little hand, catch his stumbles on the 500 yard walk home. It's tough. Especially as this week is hard work in school and I'm not getting home until gone 5pm.
I came in exhausted and found a little boy with huge, dark, purple shadows under his eyes, pale and physically shattered. One thing that I am noticing is that The Boy is wolfing down his dinner, portions that he would struggle with before. It astounds me because he's not that much more active than with me, but it must be the constant stimulation and ongoing chatter.
Today I've established that his favourite part of the day was playing on the field. I knew this school was the right choice; nestled away in the corner of our town, no through road, rolling banks on a large field, it's the perfect surburban school. He also came home with two more paintings; the bow from yesterday, and a fabulous painting. It was clearly of something but I couldn't quite work it out at first, until he told me it was a xylophone. I was astounded.
Friday
The Boy was absolutely shattered today walking to school and I expected tears, but luckily he was still very excited to be going. It was the first day that I'd taken him since his starting day and mum hadn't explained what they did in the morning first thing, so luckily the teacher saw me hovering as she walked around to the classroom at 8.55 a.m. He tottered in quite happily with her, but the final turn and wave before he went into the building was a real heart-wrencher.
I managed to get all the washing done (but not dry because of the weather) during the day, and one or two blog-posts. I am trying to get into a new routine so that our weekends are free for playing together.
After school, The Boy and I played together in the garden quite happily and he chatted about one or two other things that he'd done in school. He's not very forthcoming in his information as he can never remember what he's done, or so he says. I nipped in to get a drink for us and I heard a huge wail; he had fallen backwards off the swing and nearly winded himself. He has never fallen off his swing before, so it shows how tired he is. Cuddles, chocolate and Peppa helped sort him out. It just shows how desperately tired he is from school.
The First Day
I have been avoiding this day for weeks now.
I knew it was coming and practically we had everything prepared. The uniforms were stamped, washed, ironed, and hung on tiny wooden hangers ready for selection. The lunchbox had been practised. Various water bottles shaken upside down vigorously to see if they were suitable. Proper shoes bought from Clarks. Canvas shoes bought for the first few weeks when it's still hot and he's wearing shorts. Heels broken down so as not to cut little ankles. Lunchtime discussed. Dinner ladies talked about. Independent toileting has happened. Nose blowing practised. His name written over and over again, trying to correct the misformation of a certain letter which has come from nowhere. Snack time explained.
Tears wiped away in private.
Many tears.
Yet the 2nd of September still happened, just as I knew it always would.
And he is ready for school, and he's excited by it. He needs the social interaction and the challenge. Quite frankly he also needs squashing (and as a teacher, saying that doesn't come easily!).
Good luck my clever, funny, bright and sweet little boy. Enjoy your time at school, make friends but stay true to who you are, share and be friendly but don't be walked over, be polite and kind, be yourself because that it who everyone loves. I love you with all my heart, thank you for letting me guide you these past four years, and here's to the next chapter.
—
The Boy… Aged Four
Building on from last year's post, this is a memento of what The Boy likes at the grand old age of four.
Back To School: Aldi School Uniform (Review)
It is with a slightly heavy heart that I am beginning to accept that The Boy will start school in September. He's tremendously excited, and I must confess that I can't wait to see him enjoying school in the way that all three of us hope he will. He's going to a really lovely school very close to home with a huge rolling field and small class sizes; I couldn't ask for more.
And so with the acceptance of school comes the realisation that a whole new realm of requirements is needed:
- school uniform
- school shoes
- PE kits
- coats
- name tags
and the list goes on and on…
We've now reached the point where life could become a little expensive with everything that The Boy will need for school. Luckily help is on hand from Aldi; tomorrow (Thursday 25th July 2013), they are launching the UK’s cheapest supermarket school uniform.
And when I say cheap I mean financially frugal, not poor quality!
Aldi sent me a school uniform to try out with The Boy, and included a thick Winter coat (£9.99) with reflective panels for him as well:
We were sent:
- 2 polo shirts
- 1 round neck sweater
- skirt or trousers
- = £4
I've had instruction from my sister that life (as a working mum) is easier if they have a fresh uniform each day, therefore that means I could buy The Boy five complete outfits for the grand total of £17.50.
£17.50!
In a very well known high-street clothing store (where my sister gets her children's uniform) one outfit costs £14 and a week's worth would be £73.00.
I know which store I will be going to!
Regular shoppers of Aldi will know that they have weekly special buys which are incredible bargains, but once they have gone then that's it, no more! So pop down to your local store tomorrow and stock up before you have to start buying the expensive uniforms instead!
I was sent these products for the purpose of this review, my opinion is honest and unbiased.
A Change Is Coming
When did my little boy become old enough to start school?
Because it appears that in September, he will be doing just that.
And I'm not ready.
I'd like to pretend that he's not ready but that would be a lie. He is ready. He's ready to have the further stimulation which a trained Reception teacher can offer (I'm juniors trained). He's ready to mix with other children more regularly and make friends. He's ready to learn more formally (not that much more though, thank you Foundation Phase). He's ready to learn the discipline which can only be gained in a classroom.
He's ready.
Don't get me wrong though, he's still very emotionally young and I do think he will struggle with the full days and being away from us for so many hours. However, as the school only has one opportunity in the year for entry, we have little choice but for him to start in September or wait a year.
This is why we accompanied him into his new school a week ago for his induction into Reception. It's the only time that he's been there, and will be the only opportunity before he starts full-time education for the next fourteen years (just writing that is making me cry, he's so little still!). I do have a problem with the lack of link-building, but again can do nothing about it.
We walked down the road, around the corner and into the school. We were greeted, given name stickers (mine said 'Mum', I felt like scribbling 'my' on the end of it), and shown to the Reception class. This is where I discovered that it is a lot larger than the one block that I knew of from when I had a nursery-nursing placement there; in fact they had another building at the back of this with a covered courtyard in between. They had a gardening area, bikes and trikes to ride along the painted road layout on the ground, a small timber trail, climbing frames and a fenced off area. There was so much to explore.
The Boy was completely enthralled with it all, "Mummy! They have glitter and glue! Shall we do some craft? Oh look mummy there's Shopping List! Mummy shall we play some music?" I have no doubt that he will enjoy playing with the other thirty six children, cared for by the two teachers and two LSAs; all seemed caring and 'on the ball'.
We walked home afterwards holding hands with The Boy, him chatting about the activities and his uniform, declaring that he no longer wishes to go to nursery. I exchanged a look with my husband over our son's head, a look that said 'where has our baby gone?'. A look that shared nostalgia for the precious last four years of discovery where we have governed his routine, his learning, his play. A look that realised the days of freedom and nonconformity to a timetable were coming to an end.
A look that demanded one course of action…
—
His First Pocket Money
A few days ago I saw a discussion on Facebook about teaching children how to budget and the value of money. I entered into the debate and 'chatted' with Jen from Mum In The Madhouse (who has quite a few posts on this) about when to start giving The Boy pocket money. Personally I feel that at not quite four years old, he might be too young for it as a regular occurence but decided (upon discussion with Mr. TBaM) that we'd give him some holiday spending money in a little wallet. That way if he saw a little knick-knack or toy he fancied, he could make the decision on whether or not to buy it, guided by us.
Today, we were in Pecorama in Devon and in the shop he started looking at a few little toys and asking, "Shall we buy this?". This was the perfect time to start teaching him that things cost money and that he has to make a decision on whether he really wants something or not. My mum spotted a little wallet on the shelf and I popped £2.00 inside. I then showed him the wallet and explained that we were going to give him some pocket money for him to choose what he'd like to buy. In his hand at the time he had a wind-up train, but was eyeing up a squidgy, spiky, gel thing. He could have bought either for the money. Then he spotted a flag which he could also have afforded.
He stood in the shop, desperately trying to decide, and I fought the desperate urge to just buy all three for him. It was hard.
I patiently explained he could choose to buy one, but he couldn't have all three. He walked away from the flag, and put the squidgy thing down, picked up the train and trotted off to the counter to pay for it with his wallet. The young girl behind the counter was incredibly patient and she spoke to him, talking him through each stage of the transaction (where I also paid for the wallet!) before handing him his change and helping him put it in his wallet, and giving him his receipt and train in a bag.
Look how proud of himself he is!
The Boy wouldn't let anyone else carry his bag, and is very excited that he might be able to buy something else tomorrow with some more pocket money. He has no concept that £1 is more than 20p yet, that's a bit sophisticated for a 3 year old. However, this is the first step on the way to teaching him about finances and budgeting.
My little baby is growing up!
What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up?
"I want to be a clown, in the circus, and swing on ropes and bars," said The Boy.
I love that wish and I hope that he fulfills it!
Now when I was a child (circa. 1988) I wanted to be a bank manager, because I thought it meant that I'd get to count money all day long, and at the time that was one of my favourite things to do. Never in a million years did I envisage myself becoming a teacher; I honestly have no idea how it happened or even why. I think that I might have been pushed into it during sixth form because the private school I attended didn't know what else to do with me. As it was I failed to get into the only two colleges I applied for, and ended up studying to be a nursery nurse before becoming a 'mature' student (at the age of 21) training to be a primary school teacher.
I love my job, but I'm still not sure it's what I want to do long-term (despite having done it for 11 years!)
Therefore when Innocent asked me what inspired me, I had to stop and think with the help of their gift…
And it's that little chappy there on the mug, it's my son that inspires me; to be the best that I can and to fulfill my dream. I'll let you into a little secret here; I'd like to have a craft shop which runs tutorials in a studio room.
One of the co-founders of Innocent (Richard Reed) has recently had a series on television, entitled 'Be Your Own Boss', where he selected new businesses with innovative ideas which he could invest in. As Innocent started out as a stall at a small jazz festival with the three co-founders selling their smoothies, it's great to see them paying it forward to other potential successes. They tested their audience by putting two bins labelled 'yes' and 'no' at the front of the stall, with a banner asking “should we give up our jobs to make these smoothies?”. At the end of the weekend the 'yes' bin was overflowing.
Maybe my craft shop isn't such an elusive dream?
I'll leave you with a few gems from The Boy:
- Daddy, what do you want to be when you're growned up?
- Mummy what would you like to be when you're tall like daddy?
- Daddy, when you were three, you were my child and I was the daddy, weren't you?
What Role Does Technology Have In Our Children's Lives?
I'm writing this during an INSET where the speaker has introduced her session on challenging More Able and Talented children by showing a photograph of four nursery age children who were playing on iPods and not communicating, thus illustrating her concerns about the use of technology by children. This angered me slightly; it was shown out of context with little information about the children's task, what they were doing immediately before or after.
It's started me thinking about the technology that The Boy uses, and why.
On a daily basis, The Boy can help unload the dishwasher, turn on the television, select channel 614, play puzzles on the iPad, take photos on his camera, turn on the washing machine and play on one of his preschool games on the laptop. Don't get me wrong here, we also do art and craft, jigsaws, book reading and general playing. However my point is, that The Boy uses a lot of technology, and with a father who's a software developer and a mother who's an ICT coordinator then it's difficult for him to avoid it.
It started when he was 20 months old and I would give him a bubble-popping app on the iPod; not for a distraction but to help him develop his hand-eye coordination and fine motor skills. I would load the app for him and he'd play for just a few minutes, it was amazing to see the tracking in his vision. One day I nipped out to the kitchen to get a drink and came back in to discover him switching between the apps and playing a matching pairs game. I'd never shown him that, he'd worked it out for himself.
Children are innately curious, technology is an amazing tool for encouraging this.
We have made a conscious decision to provide The Boy with a range of technology so that we ignite within him the curiosity needed to investigate further technological innovations…
"The advance of technology is based on making it fit in so that you don't really even notice it, so it's part of everyday life." – Bill Gates
This is true. The technology that our children will use in the future is inconceivable: who would have thought five years ago that I'd be carrying a high powered computer around in my handbag with tens of books on it, access to the Internet, a camera, 'board' games and films on it, let alone that I'd be able to access all of that within seconds of reaching for it.
Technology has its place and is a valuable tool as a platform for learning; it is not a demon to be criticised at teacher training days, and children using it is not something that should be frowned upon. Of course there are going to be those parents who use it as a babysitter or pacifier (and in some situations it's needed), but it's also an amazing and innovative device for developing so many skills.
So here's my question to you: what is your stance on technology in your children's lives?
A Natural Path To Follow?
I suppose that as I live in the same town as I grew up in, there are some aspects of my early life which are inevitably and unavoidably repeatable. For example, I'm a primary school teacher and while there are five schools here which I could work in, I teach in my own childhood primary school. I've been there seven and a half years and to be honest I find it comforting that I work in the place that I was so happy to attend as a child. And yes, I did manage to play on the past pupil aspect to get my CV in to my old headmaster for the possibility of an interview.
Another aspect of my own life which I find amusing to have repeated is that I have decided to not send The Boy to state nursery. It was a big decision for me (surely as a state employed teacher I should be supporting the education system?) but the reason it wryly amuses me is because my mum didn't send me to school at the normal age either. Technically I should have started in Reception three weeks after I turned four years old, but my mum fought the LEA's pressure and refused to send me to school until I was a year older where I went straight into Year One. She felt I was too young being an August baby, and kept me in private nursery a few mornings a week. Now it's time to send my son to state nursery, I'm pointing out how young he is and am refusing to launch him into the education system until he starts Reception. And he goes to the same private nursery as I did.
As a child I didn't attend any clubs or groups. I'd try them for one session but something would always crop up to put me off. In Sunday School, I fell and sprained my wrist (serves me right for running when I should have been) and didn't want to go back. Roller skating club? I fell and sprained my ankle. The concept of me on roller skates now makes me snort with derision as I have no sense of balance whatsoever. Mum was happy for me to stay at home and play, and money was tight so expensive sessions weren't an option either.
But this is where I want repetition to not occur. We attended Monkey Music for a year until The Boy absolutely refused to join in singing or playing instruments anymore. We have now been going to Tumble Tots instead since January and have re-enrolled for the Autumns term because he loves the physical challenge so much. I've already decided he'll go to Cubs etc. because I never did the the Brownies route. I think these organisations offer so much, and I do regret not having gone to them myself.
And this is where I find myself looking at my son and wondering about his future path. What will his hobbies be? Is this a case of nurture or nature? Am I sending him off to these extra curricular sessions because I never did them, or because he wants to? What will his preferences be? Is he sporty or am I making him so? I'm not into physical exercise at all, but Mr. TBaM was a cross country runner in secondary school. As it so happens, I genuinely think The Boy loves exercise which is why he goes to Tumble Tots.
Will he be musical? I'm not, although sometimes I itch to play the piano in our dining room (which incidentally is the old one from my infant school). I have no idea about what to do with the left hand, or any sense of tempo, but I love the idea of making music. We bought the piano (for £100! Bargain!) with the sole intent of our children being taught it, I think it is therapeutic and a valuable skill. The Boy genuinely loves tinkering around on it and I find him playing little melodies which are quite tuneful. I'm constantly singing him little songs that I've made up and the other day he made one up all by himself. Admittedly it only had one line repeated several times, but the tune was lovely and he changed the pitch a few times.
We love doing craft together, but yet again this is a hobby of mine. I did art GCSE, A level and specialism in university; am I enforcing this on him? Regardless he seems to love it, and it's food for the soul. We really enjoy cooking together, will he be a chef like his uncle? He adores technology, will he be a computer geek like daddy? He's handy with a screwdriver, will he be a mechanic like grandad? A gardener like my bampi?
There are so many avenues that he could follow and I wonder which path he'll choose. Will he have inherited a talent from his family? Will my encouragement for certain activities which I didn't experience, force his hand?
Do you wonder what your child will be when they are older? Do you worry you're developing their 'likes' for them?
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