Term time.
It shouldn't make a difference.
It doesn't make a difference.
Except that it does. Because the whole mad English world is geared up to that structure of 6 weeks on, one week off. 6 weeks of ferrying small people around like Kentucky Fried on skates, and then one week when you breathe ready to do it all over again.
It is a choice.
Of course it is a choice.
When I first started home educating I signed up for any HE activity or workshop on offer. Being at home with small (very small) inconveniently-boisterous children was like sensory deprivation torture. Or sensory overload. Either way, torture.
[Note: Just because I home educate doesn't mean I have to *like* children. I am not a I love nurturing little people type of mum. No. I am a please, someone, tell me they can go to bed now because the day needed to end four hours ago and it still hasn't yet mum.]
Then as the kids got bigger and I actually really wanted to see the kitchen occasionally instead of living on jam sandwiches and hula hoops in parks and play centres, I chose to opt out of the many many and increasingly available activities.
I still try to keep the whole out-the-house-doing-stuff thing to a manageable load. I do.
But the age gap is widening. A teen and an eight-year-old are worlds apart. One is just starting to learn to read; the other interacts with adults as, well, an adult. This demands that they are driven a billion miles in different directions at the same time on the same day to meet their particular social needs.
Ok, exaggeration. But seeing as my children have just learnt the word hyperbole, I feel permitted to demonstrate the point. Truth is, once term time comes, there will be few days when we are not supposed to be somewhere at some time. Regular commitment. It's like being married to home ed, without the bonus of a free toaster and a set of crystal champagne flutes and videoing your best mate do her drunk-at-wedding dance.
So. Catch me mid-term. Go on then.
Ask me whether my home ed children socialise with others.
I am likely to poke you in the eyeballs with index and middle finger.
Socialisation? Pah
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Sunday, 2 September 2012
Monday, 12 April 2010
Creativity in the classroom
Interesting post here from John Lehrer's science blog about creativity in the classroom.
A snippet (for those to lazy to read the whole thing):
"Look, for instance, at daydreaming. It's hard to imagine a cognitive process that's less suitable for the classroom, which is why I was always castigated for staring out the window instead of looking at the blackboard. In a culture obsessed with efficiency, daydreaming is derided as a lazy habit or a lack of discipline, the kind of thinking we rely on when we don't really want to think. It's a sign of procrastination, not productivity.
In recent years, however, it's become clear that daydreaming is actually an important element of the creative process, allowing the brain to remix ideas, explore counterfactuals and turn the spotlight of attention inwards...
...Of course, daydreaming is less helpful when we're supposed to be learning our multiplication tables, or studying for a standardized test. In such instances, the lack of focused attention is a classroom failure, and not a potentially useful state of mind. The danger, however, is that we're teaching our kids a very narrow and stultifying model of cognition, in which conscientiousness is privileged above all.
The solution, I suppose, is rather banal: we really do need arts education in our schools, if only to give kids a break from this one-size-fits-all model of thinking. Because sometimes we need to daydream. And sometimes we just need to let it all out, even if we haven't raised our hand. "
So, next time I take a wrong turn in my car because I'm daydreaming, I can just put it down to having a very creative brain.
A snippet (for those to lazy to read the whole thing):
"Look, for instance, at daydreaming. It's hard to imagine a cognitive process that's less suitable for the classroom, which is why I was always castigated for staring out the window instead of looking at the blackboard. In a culture obsessed with efficiency, daydreaming is derided as a lazy habit or a lack of discipline, the kind of thinking we rely on when we don't really want to think. It's a sign of procrastination, not productivity.
In recent years, however, it's become clear that daydreaming is actually an important element of the creative process, allowing the brain to remix ideas, explore counterfactuals and turn the spotlight of attention inwards...
...Of course, daydreaming is less helpful when we're supposed to be learning our multiplication tables, or studying for a standardized test. In such instances, the lack of focused attention is a classroom failure, and not a potentially useful state of mind. The danger, however, is that we're teaching our kids a very narrow and stultifying model of cognition, in which conscientiousness is privileged above all.
The solution, I suppose, is rather banal: we really do need arts education in our schools, if only to give kids a break from this one-size-fits-all model of thinking. Because sometimes we need to daydream. And sometimes we just need to let it all out, even if we haven't raised our hand. "
So, next time I take a wrong turn in my car because I'm daydreaming, I can just put it down to having a very creative brain.
Sunday, 21 February 2010
I don't like to be smug but...
...'Schools are churning out the unemployable'
according to The Sunday Times, February 21, 2010
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/columnists/guest_contributors/article7034975.ece
[Apologies to all those who send their children to school, but I AM going to have a smug Home Educator moment. I deserve it. I earned it. Just bear with me while I make rude signs to Mr Badman et al. and his cronies while quoting from the article...]
"...Sir Terry Leahy, the chief executive of Tesco, put it bluntly. Too many children have been leaving school after 11 or 13 years of compulsory education “without the basic skills to get on in life and hold down a job”. He said 5m adults were functionally illiterate and 17m could not add up properly. “On-the-job training” cannot act as a “bandage or sticking plaster” for “the failure of our education system”.
A CBI survey revealed that literacy and numeracy were not the only problems.
More than 50% of employers complained that young people were inarticulate, unable to communicate concisely, interpret written instructions or perform simple mental calculations...
...The DWP has made it clear: work is where the inflated claims for our state education finally hit the buffers. At every stage we have a system in which the expediency of politicians and the ideology of the educational establishment take precedence over the interests of pupils.
We have children who can barely read and write scoring high marks in their Sats because it makes the school, and therefore politicians, look good. We have exam boards competing to offer the lowest pass mark because it allows heads to fulfil their GCSE targets. We have pupils pushed into easy subjects at A-level — which excludes them from applying to a top university — because it benefits the school. And we have universities that offer a 2:1 degree, as the IT company director put it, to “anyone who bothers to sit down and take the exam”. "
according to The Sunday Times, February 21, 2010
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/columnists/guest_contributors/article7034975.ece
[Apologies to all those who send their children to school, but I AM going to have a smug Home Educator moment. I deserve it. I earned it. Just bear with me while I make rude signs to Mr Badman et al. and his cronies while quoting from the article...]
"...Sir Terry Leahy, the chief executive of Tesco, put it bluntly. Too many children have been leaving school after 11 or 13 years of compulsory education “without the basic skills to get on in life and hold down a job”. He said 5m adults were functionally illiterate and 17m could not add up properly. “On-the-job training” cannot act as a “bandage or sticking plaster” for “the failure of our education system”.
A CBI survey revealed that literacy and numeracy were not the only problems.
More than 50% of employers complained that young people were inarticulate, unable to communicate concisely, interpret written instructions or perform simple mental calculations...
...The DWP has made it clear: work is where the inflated claims for our state education finally hit the buffers. At every stage we have a system in which the expediency of politicians and the ideology of the educational establishment take precedence over the interests of pupils.
We have children who can barely read and write scoring high marks in their Sats because it makes the school, and therefore politicians, look good. We have exam boards competing to offer the lowest pass mark because it allows heads to fulfil their GCSE targets. We have pupils pushed into easy subjects at A-level — which excludes them from applying to a top university — because it benefits the school. And we have universities that offer a 2:1 degree, as the IT company director put it, to “anyone who bothers to sit down and take the exam”. "
Sunday, 25 October 2009
We are not hidden!
The early findings into research on home educated children's social contacts are here which demonstrate that the assumption that home educated children are 'hidden' is laughable.
In fact the term 'home education' is a bit of a misnomer; many HE children spend a large proportion of their time out of the home: learning in the community, mixing with people of all ages. How easy is it to cram in a social life if you are restricted to 15 minutes playtime at school, or in the hour squeezed between getting home from school/homework and tea-time/bedtime?
The schools around here are currently on half term, so we are trying to arrange playdates with my children's friends who are school children; many of the school kids are booked up all week, trying to meet all these friends that they share a classroom with, but never actually get a chance to play with. And people think that home educated children have limited socialisation..?
In fact the term 'home education' is a bit of a misnomer; many HE children spend a large proportion of their time out of the home: learning in the community, mixing with people of all ages. How easy is it to cram in a social life if you are restricted to 15 minutes playtime at school, or in the hour squeezed between getting home from school/homework and tea-time/bedtime?
The schools around here are currently on half term, so we are trying to arrange playdates with my children's friends who are school children; many of the school kids are booked up all week, trying to meet all these friends that they share a classroom with, but never actually get a chance to play with. And people think that home educated children have limited socialisation..?
Thursday, 2 April 2009
Some thoughts on home education...
Some food for thought...
When I tell people that we home educate, they often say 'Wow! You're brave! '
When you look at statistics like this I wonder which parent is the braver - the one who keeps their child out of school or the one that doesn't?
As always, some interesting comments on this blog about the threat to home educators in the UK:
http://sometimesitspeaceful.blogspot.com/2009/03/maintaining-status-quo-is-out-of.html
Each week:
450,000 children are bullied in school
Each year:
more than 360,000 children are injured in schools
at least 16 children commit suicide as a result of school bullying
an estimated 1 million children truant
more than 1 in 6 children leave school unable to read, write or add up
When I tell people that we home educate, they often say 'Wow! You're brave! '
When you look at statistics like this I wonder which parent is the braver - the one who keeps their child out of school or the one that doesn't?
As always, some interesting comments on this blog about the threat to home educators in the UK:
http://sometimesitspeaceful.blogspot.com/2009/03/maintaining-status-quo-is-out-of.html
Friday, 20 March 2009
Legal power to dictate exam content (article)
Yet another interesting article about the education system...
'Ed Balls seeks power to dictate what textbooks GCSE and A-level students must study'. The Guardian, Thursday 19 March 2009
http://www.guardian.co.uk:80/uk/2009/mar/19/education-ed-balls-books
"The schools secretary, Ed Balls, is seeking a new legal power to dictate the basic content of every public exam in England, in a move that would give him or any future secretary of state the right to decide which books children must study at GCSE or A-level.
The law would allow the government to set "minimum requirements" for qualifications. One senior exam board source said it would give ministers "mind-boggling power" over exams if it got on to the statute books.
Opposition MPs will attempt today to remove from the apprenticeships, skills, children and learning bill the clause that gives the secretary of state control of basic qualifications content. Guidance published alongside the bill says it could be used to specify "which authors' works needed to be studied for someone to gain a GCSE in English".
Ministers insist the power would be exercised only as a last resort, to preserve the teaching of Shakespeare, for example, if there was a suggestion it should be scrapped from the curriculum.
The bill will break up the Qualifications and Curriculum Authority into Ofqual, an independent exams watchdog, and a smaller Qualifications and Curriculum Development Agency (QCDA) responsible for qualification design. Announcing the move last year, Balls said it would protect the exam system from political interference, as Ofqual would be independent of ministers while the QCA is answerable to them.
But the contested clause, which has gone unnoticed in the sprawling bill until now, has raised concerns among exam boards and opposition MPs, who fear it will in fact strengthen ministers' ability to interfere with the exam system for political gain.
David Laws, the Liberal Democrat education spokesman, said: "What is taught in schools should not be dependent on the whim of some here today, gone tomorrow politician. And the idea of Ed Balls or Gordon Brown determining which parts of history children are taught, or which books and poems they should read, is a rather frightening one.
"This revelation simply serves to highlight that while the government is pretending to be creating a more independent system of qualifications, curriculum development and oversight, what is actually happening is that ministers are retaining huge powers to meddle in both what is taught and how standards are measured."
The parliamentary committee scrutinising the bill is due to debate the clause today. Ministers promise that the power would be used only in "exceptional" circumstances, and that the law makes it explicit they cannot interfere in grading, assessment or structure of exams.
In a letter to the Liberal Democrats, dated 14 March and seen by the Guardian, the schools minister, Sarah McCarthy-Fry, insisted the effect would be to limit their interference and protect the exam system. A memorandum of understanding is promised, to set out exactly when ministers could use the power.
However, exam boards fear that the measure is too broad. Bene't Steinberg, head of public affairs at Cambridge Assessment, the parent company of the exam board OCR, said: "Cambridge Assessment believes that teachers and academics are the best people to decide what goes into a qualification. However, if politicians must keep their hands on the levers of qualifications, this clause needs checks and balances. The government has explained that it will only use the power in exceptional circumstances and in line with a defined process. We don't see why that should not be put into the act and made law to protect future generations."
McCarthy-Fry said: "There is currently nothing in law to stop ministers intervening on anything in relation to qualifications so, by establishing an independent regulator of qualifications that is accountable to parliament, ministers are actually putting limits on the influence they can have.
"Ministers will rightly have no role in grading, assessments or standards. They will only use powers with regard to the curriculum in exceptional circumstances - for example, intervening to ensure Shakespeare remains a core part of what our children learn." "
'Ed Balls seeks power to dictate what textbooks GCSE and A-level students must study'. The Guardian, Thursday 19 March 2009
http://www.guardian.co.uk:80/uk/2009/mar/19/education-ed-balls-books
"The schools secretary, Ed Balls, is seeking a new legal power to dictate the basic content of every public exam in England, in a move that would give him or any future secretary of state the right to decide which books children must study at GCSE or A-level.
The law would allow the government to set "minimum requirements" for qualifications. One senior exam board source said it would give ministers "mind-boggling power" over exams if it got on to the statute books.
Opposition MPs will attempt today to remove from the apprenticeships, skills, children and learning bill the clause that gives the secretary of state control of basic qualifications content. Guidance published alongside the bill says it could be used to specify "which authors' works needed to be studied for someone to gain a GCSE in English".
Ministers insist the power would be exercised only as a last resort, to preserve the teaching of Shakespeare, for example, if there was a suggestion it should be scrapped from the curriculum.
The bill will break up the Qualifications and Curriculum Authority into Ofqual, an independent exams watchdog, and a smaller Qualifications and Curriculum Development Agency (QCDA) responsible for qualification design. Announcing the move last year, Balls said it would protect the exam system from political interference, as Ofqual would be independent of ministers while the QCA is answerable to them.
But the contested clause, which has gone unnoticed in the sprawling bill until now, has raised concerns among exam boards and opposition MPs, who fear it will in fact strengthen ministers' ability to interfere with the exam system for political gain.
David Laws, the Liberal Democrat education spokesman, said: "What is taught in schools should not be dependent on the whim of some here today, gone tomorrow politician. And the idea of Ed Balls or Gordon Brown determining which parts of history children are taught, or which books and poems they should read, is a rather frightening one.
"This revelation simply serves to highlight that while the government is pretending to be creating a more independent system of qualifications, curriculum development and oversight, what is actually happening is that ministers are retaining huge powers to meddle in both what is taught and how standards are measured."
The parliamentary committee scrutinising the bill is due to debate the clause today. Ministers promise that the power would be used only in "exceptional" circumstances, and that the law makes it explicit they cannot interfere in grading, assessment or structure of exams.
In a letter to the Liberal Democrats, dated 14 March and seen by the Guardian, the schools minister, Sarah McCarthy-Fry, insisted the effect would be to limit their interference and protect the exam system. A memorandum of understanding is promised, to set out exactly when ministers could use the power.
However, exam boards fear that the measure is too broad. Bene't Steinberg, head of public affairs at Cambridge Assessment, the parent company of the exam board OCR, said: "Cambridge Assessment believes that teachers and academics are the best people to decide what goes into a qualification. However, if politicians must keep their hands on the levers of qualifications, this clause needs checks and balances. The government has explained that it will only use the power in exceptional circumstances and in line with a defined process. We don't see why that should not be put into the act and made law to protect future generations."
McCarthy-Fry said: "There is currently nothing in law to stop ministers intervening on anything in relation to qualifications so, by establishing an independent regulator of qualifications that is accountable to parliament, ministers are actually putting limits on the influence they can have.
"Ministers will rightly have no role in grading, assessments or standards. They will only use powers with regard to the curriculum in exceptional circumstances - for example, intervening to ensure Shakespeare remains a core part of what our children learn." "
Sunday, 8 March 2009
"Not how intelligent is the child but rather how is the child intelligent?"
Interesting article...
http://www.guardian.co.uk/education/2009/mar/08/abolish-league-tables-seldon
Soulless schools cursed by league tables and dominated by "formulaic" exams are squeezing the lifeblood out of education, leading headteacher and political commentator Anthony Seldon will warn tomorrow.
The 21st-century obsession with teaching "facts" harks back to Thomas Gradgrind's utilitarian values in Dickens's Hard Times, he will say in a hard-hitting lecture to the College of Teachers. The result is a system that stifles imagination, individuality and flair.
In an extraordinary indictment of the national examination system, Dr Seldon, master of Wellington College and biographer of former prime minister Tony Blair, will claim that we are forgetting the very purpose of education. "Many parents, many teachers, will recognise it. Schools need to be liberating places, but it is very hard to do it with the utter throttling, choking straitjacket of the national examination system curriculum," he told the Observer
In Britain, he advocates a severe cut-back of external testing and examinations, which he claims have increased because of a lack of trust of schools, heads and teachers.
One option would be banishing national external exams until the age of 18, as they do in the United States. He also argues that GCSEs and A-levels, should be "swept away" in favour of exams, such as the International Baccalaureate, with its primary years, middle years, and diploma-level programmes.
Schools are "dancing to Gradgrind's drum-beat of facts, facts, facts more than ever", he will say in his inaugural lecture on his appointment as professor of education to the College of Teachers. And the spectres of the Victorian Gradgrind and his unimaginative but aptly named schoolteacher, Mr M'Choackumchild, still "strut the classrooms of the world".
School authorities, schools and teachers are now valued for one thing alone: their success at achieving exam passes, says Seldon, who introduced happiness classes to Wellington College, one of Britain's leading public schools. "We have embraced dullness and so close are we to it, we do not even see what has happened," he will tell the college.
He will also criticise faith schools, claiming "all too often they have narrowed, not opened, children's minds and hearts".
In Britain, universities wield huge power over the sixth-form curriculum, yet do not encourage students to stretch themselves beyond their A-level requirements, he will allege. "A tutor of admissions at an Oxford college recently admitted to one of my colleagues at Wellington: 'We are not looking for broad-achieving and rounded students at this college. In fact , we are not rounded people ourselves.' "
University and school teachers are not themselves to blame, he will argue. But, he will add, the rigid system is having a negative impact on pupils and university students: "They are showing more signs of depression, eating disorders, self-harming, and alcohol/drug abuse, than at any point in recorded history. But they also have better resources, more computers, better buildings, and more money in their pockets than at any point in their history.
"What has been lost? Why has affluence and knowledge not brought us wonderful schools and remarkable universities?"
He will claim that schools have concentrated on a very narrow definition of intelligence: the logical and the linguistic, at the expense of cultural, physical, social, personal, moral and spiritual intelligence. He will add that we should be asking: "Not how intelligent is a child but rather, how is the child intelligent?"
Seldon will argue the case for bringing back playing fields, placing orchestras and music at the heart of the curriculum, and offering dance, physical exercise, outdoor adventure and challenge to everyone.
League tables are "the biggest curse", and have inflicted more damage on British education than anything else, he will claim. The well-being of students needs to be taken "far more seriously", and school sizes should be cut.
"Dickens's message is as timely and urgent for us in 2009 as it was in 1854," Seldon will argue. "It is that soulless, loveless, desiccated education damages children for a lifetime. Education should be an opening of the heart and mind. That is what education means; it is this, or it is nothing."
He will conclude: "Walk on every head teacher, inspector and every local and central bureaucrat who has squeezed the lifeblood out of education."
http://www.guardian.co.uk/education/2009/mar/08/abolish-league-tables-seldon
Soulless schools cursed by league tables and dominated by "formulaic" exams are squeezing the lifeblood out of education, leading headteacher and political commentator Anthony Seldon will warn tomorrow.
The 21st-century obsession with teaching "facts" harks back to Thomas Gradgrind's utilitarian values in Dickens's Hard Times, he will say in a hard-hitting lecture to the College of Teachers. The result is a system that stifles imagination, individuality and flair.
In an extraordinary indictment of the national examination system, Dr Seldon, master of Wellington College and biographer of former prime minister Tony Blair, will claim that we are forgetting the very purpose of education. "Many parents, many teachers, will recognise it. Schools need to be liberating places, but it is very hard to do it with the utter throttling, choking straitjacket of the national examination system curriculum," he told the Observer
In Britain, he advocates a severe cut-back of external testing and examinations, which he claims have increased because of a lack of trust of schools, heads and teachers.
One option would be banishing national external exams until the age of 18, as they do in the United States. He also argues that GCSEs and A-levels, should be "swept away" in favour of exams, such as the International Baccalaureate, with its primary years, middle years, and diploma-level programmes.
Schools are "dancing to Gradgrind's drum-beat of facts, facts, facts more than ever", he will say in his inaugural lecture on his appointment as professor of education to the College of Teachers. And the spectres of the Victorian Gradgrind and his unimaginative but aptly named schoolteacher, Mr M'Choackumchild, still "strut the classrooms of the world".
School authorities, schools and teachers are now valued for one thing alone: their success at achieving exam passes, says Seldon, who introduced happiness classes to Wellington College, one of Britain's leading public schools. "We have embraced dullness and so close are we to it, we do not even see what has happened," he will tell the college.
He will also criticise faith schools, claiming "all too often they have narrowed, not opened, children's minds and hearts".
In Britain, universities wield huge power over the sixth-form curriculum, yet do not encourage students to stretch themselves beyond their A-level requirements, he will allege. "A tutor of admissions at an Oxford college recently admitted to one of my colleagues at Wellington: 'We are not looking for broad-achieving and rounded students at this college. In fact , we are not rounded people ourselves.' "
University and school teachers are not themselves to blame, he will argue. But, he will add, the rigid system is having a negative impact on pupils and university students: "They are showing more signs of depression, eating disorders, self-harming, and alcohol/drug abuse, than at any point in recorded history. But they also have better resources, more computers, better buildings, and more money in their pockets than at any point in their history.
"What has been lost? Why has affluence and knowledge not brought us wonderful schools and remarkable universities?"
He will claim that schools have concentrated on a very narrow definition of intelligence: the logical and the linguistic, at the expense of cultural, physical, social, personal, moral and spiritual intelligence. He will add that we should be asking: "Not how intelligent is a child but rather, how is the child intelligent?"
Seldon will argue the case for bringing back playing fields, placing orchestras and music at the heart of the curriculum, and offering dance, physical exercise, outdoor adventure and challenge to everyone.
League tables are "the biggest curse", and have inflicted more damage on British education than anything else, he will claim. The well-being of students needs to be taken "far more seriously", and school sizes should be cut.
"Dickens's message is as timely and urgent for us in 2009 as it was in 1854," Seldon will argue. "It is that soulless, loveless, desiccated education damages children for a lifetime. Education should be an opening of the heart and mind. That is what education means; it is this, or it is nothing."
He will conclude: "Walk on every head teacher, inspector and every local and central bureaucrat who has squeezed the lifeblood out of education."
Tuesday, 2 September 2008
I saw a mouse! Where?There on the leeks! Where on the leeks? Right there! A little mouse with clogs on...
We went to the allotment again yesterday. I must be a glutton for punishment!
I did a little bit of hoeing and discovered - in between the weeds - that a few months ago I must have planted 2 more rows of carrots. I would have prefered to find a forgotten tenner in a back pocket, but carrots aren't to be sniffed at. We picked some more runner beans and the raspberries were looking productive. My liliputian cauliflower still hasn't grown any bigger (I'm not sure why I was expecting it to).
And my pumpkins? Ah well. A neighbouring allotment has pumpkins the size of cinderella's coach. Mine? Well, the biggest one is the size of a toddler's tiny football. Small and perfectly formed. I wont mention the others.
The highlight of the day was seeing a tiny mouse in amongst the leeks. At first I thought it must be a shrew as it was so tiny, but it didn't have a long pointy nose. The mouse didn't run away, just trotted slowly into the sweetcorn patch. Ds2 even managed to touch it! I'm pretty sure it was a wood mouse because it looked like the one here:http://www.natureportfolio.co.uk/mammals/previews/source/foA0442.htm
though I'm no expert on mice.
Despite the distraction of the mouse event, the kids were none too pleased to be down the allotment again so I bribed them with the promise of chips at the local shopping centre if they didn't moan too much. We managed barely 2 hours before world war 3 broke out among no2 and no3. It was probably something to do with who had whose leaf or stone or twig or something. [one of those very-important-to-kids-but-totally-irrelevant-and-very-annoying-to-mortgage-paying-adults kinda things]. It seemed a good time to leave.
Sometimes I wish I could spend more time (and less distracted time) at the allotment, and have a beautiful plot like the organic gardening magazines. Of course the allotmentees who are retired have imaculate plots. I swear they must trim the edges of their plots with nail scissors. Am I envious? Moi? Nah...course not..{g} When I get to the point where I feel the urge to measure the width of the grass path to make sure it's parallel (not kidding, it really happens at our plots), then I'll know I'm ready for the funny farm.
Today we went to a friend's house. The children are in school (today was their last day of the summer hols before the new school term), but were home educated for a short time. Our kids get on really well, but like most of their schooled friends it's always difficult to find a time to see them. We end up squeezing the occasional couple of hours between the end of the school day and bed time. I wonder how others manage?
Anyway, seeing the mouse yesterday has got this song ringing in my head. I can't remember the tune for the verses, but the chorus has stuck in my brain. If I have to put up with it then, like the cold virus, I have a responsibility to share it with others (hey, germs are good for you). So, be prepared to be infected...
A Windmill In Old Amsterdam
A mouse lived in a windmill in old Amsterdam
A windmill with a mouse in and he wasn't grousin'
He sang every morning, "How lucky I am,
Living in a windmill in old Amsterdam!"
Chorus:I saw a mouse!
Where?
There on the stair!
Where on the stair?
Right there!
A little mouse with clogs on
Well I declare!
Going clip-clippety-clop on the stair
Oh yeah
This mouse he got lonesome,
he took him a wife
A windmill with mice in,
it's hardly surprisin'
She sang every morning,
"How lucky I am,
Living in a windmill in old Amsterdam!"
Chorus
First they had triplets and then they had quins
A windmill with quins in,
and triplets and twins in
They sang every morning,
"How lucky we are
Living in a windmill in Amsterdam, ya!"
Chorus
The daughters got married and so did the sons
The windmill had christ'nin's when no one was list'nin'
They all sang in chorus,
"How lucky we am
Living in a windmill in old Amsterdam!"
Chorus
A mouse lived in a windmill, so snug and so nice
There's nobody there now but a whole lot of mice.
Thanks to the following website for supplying the lyrics.http://www.sparklytrainers.com/blog/archives/2003/04/29/a_little_mouse_with_clogs_on.html
I did a little bit of hoeing and discovered - in between the weeds - that a few months ago I must have planted 2 more rows of carrots. I would have prefered to find a forgotten tenner in a back pocket, but carrots aren't to be sniffed at. We picked some more runner beans and the raspberries were looking productive. My liliputian cauliflower still hasn't grown any bigger (I'm not sure why I was expecting it to).
And my pumpkins? Ah well. A neighbouring allotment has pumpkins the size of cinderella's coach. Mine? Well, the biggest one is the size of a toddler's tiny football. Small and perfectly formed. I wont mention the others.
The highlight of the day was seeing a tiny mouse in amongst the leeks. At first I thought it must be a shrew as it was so tiny, but it didn't have a long pointy nose. The mouse didn't run away, just trotted slowly into the sweetcorn patch. Ds2 even managed to touch it! I'm pretty sure it was a wood mouse because it looked like the one here:http://www.natureportfolio.co.uk/mammals/previews/source/foA0442.htm
though I'm no expert on mice.
Despite the distraction of the mouse event, the kids were none too pleased to be down the allotment again so I bribed them with the promise of chips at the local shopping centre if they didn't moan too much. We managed barely 2 hours before world war 3 broke out among no2 and no3. It was probably something to do with who had whose leaf or stone or twig or something. [one of those very-important-to-kids-but-totally-irrelevant-and-very-annoying-to-mortgage-paying-adults kinda things]. It seemed a good time to leave.
Sometimes I wish I could spend more time (and less distracted time) at the allotment, and have a beautiful plot like the organic gardening magazines. Of course the allotmentees who are retired have imaculate plots. I swear they must trim the edges of their plots with nail scissors. Am I envious? Moi? Nah...course not..{g} When I get to the point where I feel the urge to measure the width of the grass path to make sure it's parallel (not kidding, it really happens at our plots), then I'll know I'm ready for the funny farm.
Today we went to a friend's house. The children are in school (today was their last day of the summer hols before the new school term), but were home educated for a short time. Our kids get on really well, but like most of their schooled friends it's always difficult to find a time to see them. We end up squeezing the occasional couple of hours between the end of the school day and bed time. I wonder how others manage?
Anyway, seeing the mouse yesterday has got this song ringing in my head. I can't remember the tune for the verses, but the chorus has stuck in my brain. If I have to put up with it then, like the cold virus, I have a responsibility to share it with others (hey, germs are good for you). So, be prepared to be infected...
A Windmill In Old Amsterdam
A mouse lived in a windmill in old Amsterdam
A windmill with a mouse in and he wasn't grousin'
He sang every morning, "How lucky I am,
Living in a windmill in old Amsterdam!"
Chorus:I saw a mouse!
Where?
There on the stair!
Where on the stair?
Right there!
A little mouse with clogs on
Well I declare!
Going clip-clippety-clop on the stair
Oh yeah
This mouse he got lonesome,
he took him a wife
A windmill with mice in,
it's hardly surprisin'
She sang every morning,
"How lucky I am,
Living in a windmill in old Amsterdam!"
Chorus
First they had triplets and then they had quins
A windmill with quins in,
and triplets and twins in
They sang every morning,
"How lucky we are
Living in a windmill in Amsterdam, ya!"
Chorus
The daughters got married and so did the sons
The windmill had christ'nin's when no one was list'nin'
They all sang in chorus,
"How lucky we am
Living in a windmill in old Amsterdam!"
Chorus
A mouse lived in a windmill, so snug and so nice
There's nobody there now but a whole lot of mice.
Thanks to the following website for supplying the lyrics.http://www.sparklytrainers.com/blog/archives/2003/04/29/a_little_mouse_with_clogs_on.html
Friday, 29 August 2008
'Give Children books, not SATs'
Two posts in one day?
Saw this link on an email list and thought I'd refer to it here.
http://www.independent.co.uk/news/education/schools/michael-rosen-give-children-books-not-sats-910225.html
Michael Rosen: 'Give children books, not SATs'
'...."Testing does something to children, something to teachers, something to parents, something to the whole conversation about education," he says. His everyday speech, you notice, has the same lively stream of consciousness as his poetry.
But by far his biggest concern is what testing has done to his greatest love: books. Literacy standards at 14 fell this year, according to Key Stage 3 tests. Rosen is currently tub-thumping on behalf of the National Year of Reading, a campaign to celebrate the written word, and has written a poem for the cause – printed exclusively today . What he wants above all is to re-inject a sense of enthusiasm into the study of literature in schools. Love books, he says, and school will be a cinch; over-test children, sterilise the English language, and you only make it harder...'
Here's the poem. It's lost some of the formatting when I cut and pasted it, so I've tried to restore it a bit. Sorry Michael, probably made a pig's ear out of it...
'Words Are Us', by Michael Rosen
In the beginning was the word
And the word is ours:
The names of places
The names of flowers
The names of names
Words are ours
Page-turners
For early learners
How to boil an egg
Or mend a leg
Words are ours
Wall charts
Love hearts
Sports reports
Short retorts
Jam jar labels
Timetables
Words are ours
Following the instructions
For furniture constructions
Ancient mythologies
Online anthologies
Who she wrote for
Who to vote for
Joke collections
Results of elections
Words are ours
The tale's got you gripped
Have you learned your script?
The method of an experiment
Ingredients for merriment
W8n 4ur txt
Re: whts nxt
Print media
Wikipedia
Words are ours
Subtitles on TV
Details on your CV
Book of great speeches
Guide to the best beaches
Looking for chapters
on velociraptors
Words are ours
The mystery of history
The history of mystery
The views of news
The news of views
Words to explain
the words for pain
Doing geography
Autobiography
What to do in payphones
Goodbyes on gravestones
Words are ours.
www.michaelrosen.co.uk
Saw this link on an email list and thought I'd refer to it here.
http://www.independent.co.uk/news/education/schools/michael-rosen-give-children-books-not-sats-910225.html
Michael Rosen: 'Give children books, not SATs'
'...."Testing does something to children, something to teachers, something to parents, something to the whole conversation about education," he says. His everyday speech, you notice, has the same lively stream of consciousness as his poetry.
But by far his biggest concern is what testing has done to his greatest love: books. Literacy standards at 14 fell this year, according to Key Stage 3 tests. Rosen is currently tub-thumping on behalf of the National Year of Reading, a campaign to celebrate the written word, and has written a poem for the cause – printed exclusively today . What he wants above all is to re-inject a sense of enthusiasm into the study of literature in schools. Love books, he says, and school will be a cinch; over-test children, sterilise the English language, and you only make it harder...'
Here's the poem. It's lost some of the formatting when I cut and pasted it, so I've tried to restore it a bit. Sorry Michael, probably made a pig's ear out of it...
'Words Are Us', by Michael Rosen
In the beginning was the word
And the word is ours:
The names of places
The names of flowers
The names of names
Words are ours
Page-turners
For early learners
How to boil an egg
Or mend a leg
Words are ours
Wall charts
Love hearts
Sports reports
Short retorts
Jam jar labels
Timetables
Words are ours
Following the instructions
For furniture constructions
Ancient mythologies
Online anthologies
Who she wrote for
Who to vote for
Joke collections
Results of elections
Words are ours
The tale's got you gripped
Have you learned your script?
The method of an experiment
Ingredients for merriment
W8n 4ur txt
Re: whts nxt
Print media
Wikipedia
Words are ours
Subtitles on TV
Details on your CV
Book of great speeches
Guide to the best beaches
Looking for chapters
on velociraptors
Words are ours
The mystery of history
The history of mystery
The views of news
The news of views
Words to explain
the words for pain
Doing geography
Autobiography
What to do in payphones
Goodbyes on gravestones
Words are ours.
www.michaelrosen.co.uk
Sunday, 27 July 2008
"No Gender Differences In Math Performance"
Think boys are naturally better at maths than girls? Think again.
'Boys are not innately better at maths than girls, and any difference in test scores is due to nurture rather than nature, researchers suggested today.
According to new research published in the journal Science, the "gender gap" in maths, long perceived to exist between girls and boys, disappears in societies that treat both sexes equally. When girls have equal access to education and other opportunities they do just as well as boys in maths tests.
The research, led by Prof Paola Sapienza of Northwestern University in the US, investigated whether a global gender gap exists and whether it was the result of social engineering rather than intrinsic aptitude for the subject.
"The so-called gender gap in math skills seems to be at least partially correlated to environmental factors," Sapienza said. "The gap doesn't exist in countries in which men and women have access to similar resources and opportunities."
Researchers analysed data from more than 276,000 children in 40 countries who took the 2003 Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development Programme for International Student Assessment (Pisa) - the internationally standardised test of maths, reading, science and problem-solving ability.
Globally, boys tend to outperform girls in maths (on average girls score 10.5 points lower than boys) but in more "gender equal societies" such as Iceland, Sweden and Norway, girls scored as well as boys or better.
For example, the maths gender gap almost disappeared in Sweden, while in Turkey girls scored 23 points below boys in maths.
Average girls' scores improved as equality improved and the number of girls reaching the highest levels of performance also increased, the researchers found. In Britain, girls fared only slightly less well than male classmates, with female pupils scoring an average of 0.7% less.
The research also found a striking gender gap in reading skills. In every country girls perform better than boys in reading but in countries that treat both sexes equally, girls do even better.
On average, girls have reading scores that are 32.7 points higher than those of boys (6.6% higher than the mean average score for boys). In Turkey, this amounts to 25.1 points higher, and in Iceland, girls score 61.0 points higher.
Sapienza said: "Our research indicates that in more gender equal societies, girls will gain an absolute advantage relative to boys."
So how deep-rooted our gender stereotypes are within the education system? Are us parents as guilty as teachers of perpetuating them?
for the full article)
No Gender Differences In Math Performance
Science Daily (July 27, 2008)
Science Daily (July 27, 2008)
'— We've all heard it. Many of us in fact believe it. Girls just aren't as good at math as boys.
But is it true? After sifting through mountains of data - including SAT results and math scores from 7 million students who were tested in accordance with the No Child Left Behind Act - a team of scientists says the answer is no. Whether they looked at average performance, the scores of the most gifted children or students' ability to solve complex math problems, girls measured up to boys.
"There just aren't gender differences anymore in math performance," says University of Wisconsin-Madison psychology professor Janet Hyde, the study's leader. "So parents and teachers need to revise their thoughts about this."
The UW-Madison and University of California, Berkeley, researchers report their findings in the July 25 issue of Science.
Though girls take just as many advanced high school math courses today as boys, and women earn 48 percent of all mathematics bachelor's degrees, the stereotype persists that girls struggle with math, says Hyde. Not only do many parents and teachers believe this, but scholars also use it to explain the dearth of female mathematicians, engineers and physicists at the highest levels.
Cultural beliefs like this are "incredibly influential," she says, making it critical to question them. "Because if your mom or your teacher thinks you can't do math, that can have a big impact on your math self concept." '
But is it true? After sifting through mountains of data - including SAT results and math scores from 7 million students who were tested in accordance with the No Child Left Behind Act - a team of scientists says the answer is no. Whether they looked at average performance, the scores of the most gifted children or students' ability to solve complex math problems, girls measured up to boys.
"There just aren't gender differences anymore in math performance," says University of Wisconsin-Madison psychology professor Janet Hyde, the study's leader. "So parents and teachers need to revise their thoughts about this."
The UW-Madison and University of California, Berkeley, researchers report their findings in the July 25 issue of Science.
Though girls take just as many advanced high school math courses today as boys, and women earn 48 percent of all mathematics bachelor's degrees, the stereotype persists that girls struggle with math, says Hyde. Not only do many parents and teachers believe this, but scholars also use it to explain the dearth of female mathematicians, engineers and physicists at the highest levels.
Cultural beliefs like this are "incredibly influential," she says, making it critical to question them. "Because if your mom or your teacher thinks you can't do math, that can have a big impact on your math self concept." '
******************************************************************************
and, what I believe is the same story, as described in rather more detail in The Guardian:
Boys not better than girls at maths, study finds
Education Guardian
Friday May 30 2008
Education Guardian
Friday May 30 2008
'Boys are not innately better at maths than girls, and any difference in test scores is due to nurture rather than nature, researchers suggested today.
According to new research published in the journal Science, the "gender gap" in maths, long perceived to exist between girls and boys, disappears in societies that treat both sexes equally. When girls have equal access to education and other opportunities they do just as well as boys in maths tests.
The research, led by Prof Paola Sapienza of Northwestern University in the US, investigated whether a global gender gap exists and whether it was the result of social engineering rather than intrinsic aptitude for the subject.
"The so-called gender gap in math skills seems to be at least partially correlated to environmental factors," Sapienza said. "The gap doesn't exist in countries in which men and women have access to similar resources and opportunities."
Researchers analysed data from more than 276,000 children in 40 countries who took the 2003 Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development Programme for International Student Assessment (Pisa) - the internationally standardised test of maths, reading, science and problem-solving ability.
Globally, boys tend to outperform girls in maths (on average girls score 10.5 points lower than boys) but in more "gender equal societies" such as Iceland, Sweden and Norway, girls scored as well as boys or better.
For example, the maths gender gap almost disappeared in Sweden, while in Turkey girls scored 23 points below boys in maths.
Average girls' scores improved as equality improved and the number of girls reaching the highest levels of performance also increased, the researchers found. In Britain, girls fared only slightly less well than male classmates, with female pupils scoring an average of 0.7% less.
The research also found a striking gender gap in reading skills. In every country girls perform better than boys in reading but in countries that treat both sexes equally, girls do even better.
On average, girls have reading scores that are 32.7 points higher than those of boys (6.6% higher than the mean average score for boys). In Turkey, this amounts to 25.1 points higher, and in Iceland, girls score 61.0 points higher.
Sapienza said: "Our research indicates that in more gender equal societies, girls will gain an absolute advantage relative to boys."
_________________________________________________________
I have loads of photos of this past weekend camping at the sailing club to upload, but it's late now. I'll hopefully get a chance to write about it all tomorrow. In the meantime, lots of unpacking to do and a few grubby children to get to sleep.
p.s. apologies for the formatting on this entry; I know the paragraphs seem to be squished up. Blogspot has decided for some reason to take out the spaces and lines that I put in...can't get my head around it, so will have to leave it for now.
Monday, 2 June 2008
Bracknell Forest and Blue Peter Badge
[this was edited March 2009 to add a title to the blog entry]
Been a few days since I've written on the blog (explanation later), but we had a lovely time celebrating dh's birthday on Saturday at Bracknell Forest. The kids spent quite a bit of time playing in the fantastic playgrounds, running around with sticks, climbing up the wooden fort etc. We probably could have spent all day outside doing just this (for free), but I bought some tickets for the 'Look-Out centre' - a hands-on science centre that far excels anything we have locally.
Trying out the drum machine
Demonstrating on the drums, before being pulled off by his brother!
(Sorry, video is wrong way around!)
I even splashed out and bought them tickets to the 'Spies' science show that was put on at regular intervals, though I did have regrets about this afterwards as we all found it rather disappointing. I suppose having 2 scientists for parents everything aimed at my kids' age group is a bit dumbed-down for them. It did do one thing for me though, I left the show freshly inspired that even a wallflower like me could do a better job (momentary feeling of smugness and confidence) and with ambitions for future job-hunting... Plus it gave the kids the idea that setting fire to baking powder was a good idea. Do I want to encourage that? I'm not sure.
Change the pitch of your voice
The Castle fort in the playground
Chilling out!
Stopped on the way home for a pizza which was lovely.
Sadly not so lovely at 3am. I suppose it's a sign of our financial situation when I'm more concerned about how much the pizza cost that I'm throwing up - and what a waste of money it was - than the fact that I feel dreadful. By 6am I had visions of one of the Italian chefs doing something really nasty to my pizza to get back at dh for trying to teach the kids Italian in a very loud voice in the restaurant (he can't speak Italian), but that was probably just a moment of paranoia {g}.So, Sunday was a washout and I spent all day in bed feeling lousy. Thankfully dh took the initiative and got the kids out with their bikes to the park, something I've been promising them for ages, but with the 'bad back' situation haven't been able to. Actually I think dh was avoiding having to 'nurse' me (not something either of us are good at) and probably felt that taking 3 boisterous kids out for the afternoon was a preferable option!
Still feeling washed out today which hasn't made it a great day for home educating. ds1 finally finished typing out his Blue Peter badge application after some gentle nagging by me. The words 'blood' and 'stone' come to mind lol, but at least it's done now and ready to post tomorrow. Sometimes I try and visualise him in a typical school setting and wonder how any teacher would cope with a child who can take an hour to write a single sentence. Bless him. The school system must be full of lots of square pegs trying to fit into round holes. The only holes we have here are the ones that ds1 keeps chewing in the top of his t-shirts and the black hole that all the odd socks disappear into, oh and the hole that should be there if I ever get around to clearing all that clutter that I keep promising to. That's enough holes for one household.
_________________________________________________________________
Recently I've been revising my thoughts about our home education and wondering how I can possibly meet the needs of 3 very different children. How do other home educators manage? I'm not sure if they ever do. Of course school is always an option lurking in the background, but still very much a last resort, however many times I threaten the kids with it {g}.
There are a couple of village schools we could check out, and I suppose there is always the possibility that they might be so desperate for pupils that they would consider a flexi-school arrangement, so I like to keep this as my emergency plan for when things get really bad. Plan B or C or even a bit further down the alphabet, around S.
Of course my children have been out of school for so long now that I'm not sure how easy it would be for them to integrate into the system. Or perhaps it's me who would find it difficult to integrate back into the system. Just the thought of being told what to put in their lunchbox each day or told what colour socks to dress the kids in could potentially put me into a very challenging mood! Could I wash school uniforms and sew on all those name labels in without some feeling of resentment? Could I conform and let someone else tell my children what to do? Methinks not!
Our education has mostly been ruled by the learning style and needs of ds1. I guess this happens with most home educating families, the eldest child dictates the path we take.When I 'offload' to friends who have kids at school, their automatic solution to everything, to every problem, is for me to put the kids into school. But again and again when I look at this I realise it wouldn't solve anything, all it would do is exchange one set of problems for another.
So school is out of the question right now. And with ds1 only a few years off secondary schooling, I can't see any change of decision then. Secondary schooling around here is an even more scary prospect. Would I willingly and knowingly feed my kids to the lions? Daft question really.
So we have to decide how to move forward. How to meet their needs, so that each of them gets the best chances to develop their talents. I'm still trying to work out how that can be done.
Tuesday, 20 May 2008
A Home Educating Mum's Guide to a Quiet Mid-Life Crisis (wouldn't want to disturb anyone would we?)
Today Ds1 attended the first part of a First Aid course. As he frustratingly tells me, I gave him the choice as to whether to attend or not and when he said 'no' I said he had to go anyway. Well, he should consider himself lucky - at least I gave him the brief illusion of having a choice before I took it away from him. lol. Ah well...I figure my kids get lots of choice and freedoms, probably far more than many kids. Sometimes there are things that I think are important enough that I make the choice for them, and this was one of them.
Thankfully the car is still working after it's cam belt breakage and replacement. I did have my doubts last night when, on my way out to go to the home ed pub evening I found dh under the car tying the exhaust back on with wire. Oh joy. That's another thing that needs replacing (yet more money). So now the car sounds a bit like a tractor and everytime I put my foot hard on the accelerator it chucks out clouds of black smoke. I should be thankful for small mercies - at least it's not got bits dragging on the ground or anything too embarrassing.
Anyway, ds1 said the course was 'good', which is bloody marvellous compared to the response I was expecting, so we're off for part 2 tomorrow. This time we'll try and get there on time - a combination of poor organisational skills (me) and traffic (me again - I forgot about rush hour) led us to being late today. But, in true home ed style, there were people even later than us. It could have been worse.
Perhaps I should have just chilled out at that point, but we raced back home to drop dd1 off at preschool, spent an hour at the allotment (sowing carrots and planting out more sweetcorn) before racing back to pick up ds1 from the course at lunchtime. Then to the garage to get a quote for a new exhaust pipe.
------------------------------------------------
Most of the home educators I know are currently going through a bit of a confidence crisis and I suppose I'm not much different. The daily domestic plod, the overwhelmingly untidy and dirty house, the increasing list of 'to do's, the constant bickering of siblings and the lack of achieving any goals (particularly home educating ones) makes us all have moments when we suspect perhaps school could offer something more. At least school would offer free childcare and we're all in desperate need for that!
Among my circle of friends most of us are having - and have been having for several years - something resembling a mid-life crisis. It's come to that time when we've all decided not to have any more children and we've all started asking the question 'so what's next then? What's in it for us?' Of course it hits us home educating mums hardest because in the midst of domesticity and the responsibility of full time caring and education, there appears to be no light at the end of the tunnel - well not for another 10 or more years (by then we'll probably all be caring for our parents!) Other friends whose youngest children have now gone to school have started on their plans - retraining, doing voluntary work, working, going to the gym, spending time focusing on their needs after years of childcare - and I can't help but be a little envious. Ok, ok, I'm a lot envious!
And it affects us mums more than dads. Sadly I'm coming to realise that partners and husbands don't really care, because for them it makes no difference if we were home educating or not - they have their jobs, their careers, their status, their respect, their peers, their money, their social contact - and when they come home each evening it would make little difference to them whether their children had been at school all day or at home. Perhaps I'm wrong, but I suspect as long as the meal is on the table and the house doesn't look like a bomb's hit it [I fail on both of those] then they probably wouldn't notice either way.
So what to do about it? I'm yet to work it out. All I know is us home educating mums who have spent years meeting the needs of everyone else, are fast becoming so worn out, emotionally and physically knackered, that we're at risk of not being fit and healthy enough to meet their own needs and do all the things we'd love to even if we did have the time and money! That is even if we could actually remember what our needs are (most days I can't even remember what day it is lol) .What a sad state to be in!
Money is certainly an issue that crops up among home educators. How to make more, how to make the little we have go further, how to not mind when we're surrounded by people who can afford all those extras (tutors, music classes, resources, nice holidays, cleaners, childcare) that make home educating life that little bit easier. Ok, so perhaps 'surrounded' is a bit of an exaggeration, but you know what I mean. Some days you just don't want to be in the company of someone who can provide their kids with all the things you know you can't. Why is it that the people who say 'Money isn't everything' are usually the people who have lots of it! Money may certainly not be EVERYTHING, but there are times when it certainly makes life that little bit more comfortable {g}. Still if chiropracters cost only pennies to go to and we had a car that wasn't slowly falling apart, then finances might be slightly more secure lol.
Please please don't let the washing machine break down. Anything else, just not the washing machine.
Thankfully the car is still working after it's cam belt breakage and replacement. I did have my doubts last night when, on my way out to go to the home ed pub evening I found dh under the car tying the exhaust back on with wire. Oh joy. That's another thing that needs replacing (yet more money). So now the car sounds a bit like a tractor and everytime I put my foot hard on the accelerator it chucks out clouds of black smoke. I should be thankful for small mercies - at least it's not got bits dragging on the ground or anything too embarrassing.
Anyway, ds1 said the course was 'good', which is bloody marvellous compared to the response I was expecting, so we're off for part 2 tomorrow. This time we'll try and get there on time - a combination of poor organisational skills (me) and traffic (me again - I forgot about rush hour) led us to being late today. But, in true home ed style, there were people even later than us. It could have been worse.
Perhaps I should have just chilled out at that point, but we raced back home to drop dd1 off at preschool, spent an hour at the allotment (sowing carrots and planting out more sweetcorn) before racing back to pick up ds1 from the course at lunchtime. Then to the garage to get a quote for a new exhaust pipe.
I dread taking the car to the garage and as I pulled up there were 5 garage blokes barely out of their teens lurking outside the garage with nothing to do. When the garage bloke asked me 'what's the engine size?' I looked blank and shrugged 'haven't a clue'. I saw that look flick across his face, the 'oh god it's a woman driver' look. Oh joy. Thankfully he wandered off made a phone call and then returned to say that we wouldn't be able to get the exhaust pipe there. So back home we went before once more racing out to get dd1 from preschool and back home again in time for some friends to arrive. Then cooking a tea in a rush and me off to work, leaving the house a mess and nothing much achieved. I had planned to start thinking about what to do for ds2's birthday (only a week away), but like everything else lurking ominously on my whiteboard hanging by the door it just hasn't happened yet. Poor child, if I don't get something organised soon he's going to feel very neglected!
------------------------------------------------
Most of the home educators I know are currently going through a bit of a confidence crisis and I suppose I'm not much different. The daily domestic plod, the overwhelmingly untidy and dirty house, the increasing list of 'to do's, the constant bickering of siblings and the lack of achieving any goals (particularly home educating ones) makes us all have moments when we suspect perhaps school could offer something more. At least school would offer free childcare and we're all in desperate need for that!
Among my circle of friends most of us are having - and have been having for several years - something resembling a mid-life crisis. It's come to that time when we've all decided not to have any more children and we've all started asking the question 'so what's next then? What's in it for us?' Of course it hits us home educating mums hardest because in the midst of domesticity and the responsibility of full time caring and education, there appears to be no light at the end of the tunnel - well not for another 10 or more years (by then we'll probably all be caring for our parents!) Other friends whose youngest children have now gone to school have started on their plans - retraining, doing voluntary work, working, going to the gym, spending time focusing on their needs after years of childcare - and I can't help but be a little envious. Ok, ok, I'm a lot envious!
And it affects us mums more than dads. Sadly I'm coming to realise that partners and husbands don't really care, because for them it makes no difference if we were home educating or not - they have their jobs, their careers, their status, their respect, their peers, their money, their social contact - and when they come home each evening it would make little difference to them whether their children had been at school all day or at home. Perhaps I'm wrong, but I suspect as long as the meal is on the table and the house doesn't look like a bomb's hit it [I fail on both of those] then they probably wouldn't notice either way.
So what to do about it? I'm yet to work it out. All I know is us home educating mums who have spent years meeting the needs of everyone else, are fast becoming so worn out, emotionally and physically knackered, that we're at risk of not being fit and healthy enough to meet their own needs and do all the things we'd love to even if we did have the time and money! That is even if we could actually remember what our needs are (most days I can't even remember what day it is lol) .What a sad state to be in!
Money is certainly an issue that crops up among home educators. How to make more, how to make the little we have go further, how to not mind when we're surrounded by people who can afford all those extras (tutors, music classes, resources, nice holidays, cleaners, childcare) that make home educating life that little bit easier. Ok, so perhaps 'surrounded' is a bit of an exaggeration, but you know what I mean. Some days you just don't want to be in the company of someone who can provide their kids with all the things you know you can't. Why is it that the people who say 'Money isn't everything' are usually the people who have lots of it! Money may certainly not be EVERYTHING, but there are times when it certainly makes life that little bit more comfortable {g}. Still if chiropracters cost only pennies to go to and we had a car that wasn't slowly falling apart, then finances might be slightly more secure lol.
Please please don't let the washing machine break down. Anything else, just not the washing machine.
Tuesday, 13 May 2008
A QI school
The following was forwarded to me and seemed relevant to home education. I'm an avid fan of QI and I suspect I've probably learnt and retained more general knowledge - albeit on bizarre subjects - through QI than I probably ever learnt in 16 years of formal education. Which is quite sad really. All those years sat at a desk staring out the window while trying desperately to stay awake were mostly a waste of time.
Ask a kid what he wants to learn, and he’s unlikely to say: “a broad-based curriculum that offers the core skills”. Real learning is obsessive. It happens through watching, listening and practising something that really interests you. "From The Sunday Times May 11, 2008
The QI equation for an enriched IQ. The quirky methods behind TV’s QI quiz show could lead to a revolution in how we learn, says Idler editor Tom Hodgkinson. Could an educational revolution come about as the result of a television quiz show? Unlikely, perhaps – but underneath the amiable silliness ofBBC2’s QI lurks a radical remit. And in the week after Chris Parry, the new head of the Independent Schools Council, made an outspoken attack on the state school system, it is surely worth looking at an unorthodox new approach to learning. QI – which stands for Quite Interesting and is also IQ backwards – was created about five years ago by John Lloyd, who had enjoyed great success asproducer of Spitting Image, Not the Nine O’Clock News and Blackadder. on etymology andzoology and history proves Lloyd’s other thesis: that human beings are naturally curious.Indeed, in the world of QI, boredom does not exist....
...Lloyd and Mitchinson [his writing partner] believe that there is a thirst for knowledge among allage groups that is ill served by school – which tends to turn people away from learning. Even the best schools can take a fascinating subject – such as electricity or William Blake or classical civilisation – and make it boring by turning it into facts that have to be regurgitated for exams. QI’s popularity also proves that learning takes place most effectively when it is done voluntarily. The same teenagers who will zoom happily through a QI book will sit at the back of geography class and do their utmost to resist being taught.
It was with all that in mind that I approached Lloyd and Mitchinson and asked whether they would like to expand on the ideas behind QI in a special issue of The Idler. What, I asked them, would a QI school be like?“There would be no work, for a start,” said Lloyd. “It would all be play. Plato said that education should be a form of amusement. That way you will be much better able to discover the child’s natural bent.”This approach is in direct contrast, of course, to the largely Gradgrindian approach common to most schools. As Mitchinson points out, it is actually a method of containment: “There’s that great line: you’re taught for the first five years of your life how to walk and talk; and for the next 10, you’re told to shut up and sit down.”
For Mitchinson, schools have turned into wage-slave production farms rather than places of learning. “What do you remember from school,” he asks. “Most of us would probably recall one or two good teachers, some successes and many humiliations, the ebb and flow of friendships, the torture of exams.“But what about the actual lessons? Try it: sit down and make a list of the first 10 things that loom out of the murk. Then examine the list and see whether it passes muster as either useful or interesting. Unless you are gifted with a photographic memory, you’ll be staring at a rag-bag of half-grasped theories, fragments of other people’s books and a soupy residue of ‘facts’ – many of them not even true.”Then think about that list of great men who barely went to school: Albert Einstein, Winston Churchill, William Cobbett, John Stuart Mill, Bertrand Russell. Our most independent thinkers were more or less self-educated. You will also find that the best schools – for example, Eton and Westminster –have the shortest terms and do the least teaching, a paradox that would suggest we need less formal education all round. In the QI edition of The Idler, Lloyd and Mitchinson present a five-point manifesto for educational reform.
One: play not work.
Schools should be resource centres, not prisons. Teachers should be returned to their original roles as facilitators, not bureaucrats or drillmasters.The more “work” resembles play – telling stories, making things – the more interested kids will become.
Two: follow the chain of curiosity.
Ask a kid what he wants to learn, and he’s unlikely to say: “a broad-basedcurriculum that offers the core skills”. Real learning is obsessive. It happens through watching, listening and practising something that really interests you. Encourage children to follow their own curiosity right to the end of the chain, and they will acquire the skills they need to get there.
Three: you decide.
The QI School isn’t compulsory and there are no exams: only projects or goals you set yourself with the teacher acting as a mentor. This could be making a film or building a chair. From age seven onwards, our core subjects might be: philosophy, storytelling, music, technology, nature and games.
Four: no theory without practice.
If you’re lost in wonder looking at, say, a lettuce, you will want to have ago at growing it, too.
Five: you never leave.
There is no reason why school has to stop dead at 17 or 18. The QI schoolwould be the ultimate “lifelong learning” venue – a mini-university where skills and knowledge would be pooled and young and old could indulge their curiosity.
Ask a kid what he wants to learn, and he’s unlikely to say: “a broad-based curriculum that offers the core skills”. Real learning is obsessive. It happens through watching, listening and practising something that really interests you. "From The Sunday Times May 11, 2008
The QI equation for an enriched IQ. The quirky methods behind TV’s QI quiz show could lead to a revolution in how we learn, says Idler editor Tom Hodgkinson. Could an educational revolution come about as the result of a television quiz show? Unlikely, perhaps – but underneath the amiable silliness ofBBC2’s QI lurks a radical remit. And in the week after Chris Parry, the new head of the Independent Schools Council, made an outspoken attack on the state school system, it is surely worth looking at an unorthodox new approach to learning. QI – which stands for Quite Interesting and is also IQ backwards – was created about five years ago by John Lloyd, who had enjoyed great success asproducer of Spitting Image, Not the Nine O’Clock News and Blackadder. on etymology andzoology and history proves Lloyd’s other thesis: that human beings are naturally curious.Indeed, in the world of QI, boredom does not exist....
...Lloyd and Mitchinson [his writing partner] believe that there is a thirst for knowledge among allage groups that is ill served by school – which tends to turn people away from learning. Even the best schools can take a fascinating subject – such as electricity or William Blake or classical civilisation – and make it boring by turning it into facts that have to be regurgitated for exams. QI’s popularity also proves that learning takes place most effectively when it is done voluntarily. The same teenagers who will zoom happily through a QI book will sit at the back of geography class and do their utmost to resist being taught.
It was with all that in mind that I approached Lloyd and Mitchinson and asked whether they would like to expand on the ideas behind QI in a special issue of The Idler. What, I asked them, would a QI school be like?“There would be no work, for a start,” said Lloyd. “It would all be play. Plato said that education should be a form of amusement. That way you will be much better able to discover the child’s natural bent.”This approach is in direct contrast, of course, to the largely Gradgrindian approach common to most schools. As Mitchinson points out, it is actually a method of containment: “There’s that great line: you’re taught for the first five years of your life how to walk and talk; and for the next 10, you’re told to shut up and sit down.”
For Mitchinson, schools have turned into wage-slave production farms rather than places of learning. “What do you remember from school,” he asks. “Most of us would probably recall one or two good teachers, some successes and many humiliations, the ebb and flow of friendships, the torture of exams.“But what about the actual lessons? Try it: sit down and make a list of the first 10 things that loom out of the murk. Then examine the list and see whether it passes muster as either useful or interesting. Unless you are gifted with a photographic memory, you’ll be staring at a rag-bag of half-grasped theories, fragments of other people’s books and a soupy residue of ‘facts’ – many of them not even true.”Then think about that list of great men who barely went to school: Albert Einstein, Winston Churchill, William Cobbett, John Stuart Mill, Bertrand Russell. Our most independent thinkers were more or less self-educated. You will also find that the best schools – for example, Eton and Westminster –have the shortest terms and do the least teaching, a paradox that would suggest we need less formal education all round. In the QI edition of The Idler, Lloyd and Mitchinson present a five-point manifesto for educational reform.
One: play not work.
Schools should be resource centres, not prisons. Teachers should be returned to their original roles as facilitators, not bureaucrats or drillmasters.The more “work” resembles play – telling stories, making things – the more interested kids will become.
Two: follow the chain of curiosity.
Ask a kid what he wants to learn, and he’s unlikely to say: “a broad-basedcurriculum that offers the core skills”. Real learning is obsessive. It happens through watching, listening and practising something that really interests you. Encourage children to follow their own curiosity right to the end of the chain, and they will acquire the skills they need to get there.
Three: you decide.
The QI School isn’t compulsory and there are no exams: only projects or goals you set yourself with the teacher acting as a mentor. This could be making a film or building a chair. From age seven onwards, our core subjects might be: philosophy, storytelling, music, technology, nature and games.
Four: no theory without practice.
If you’re lost in wonder looking at, say, a lettuce, you will want to have ago at growing it, too.
Five: you never leave.
There is no reason why school has to stop dead at 17 or 18. The QI schoolwould be the ultimate “lifelong learning” venue – a mini-university where skills and knowledge would be pooled and young and old could indulge their curiosity.
Monday, 18 February 2008
Instruction leaflet for schools: 'How to be Creative'
The children had been asked by a member of staff at our local Scrapstore if they could do an instruction sheet to give to schools. The instruction leaflet was for making stampers out of 'sticky pads'. The idea was received with (mild) enthusiasm, so yesterday I figured I'd start off making some stampers and see if the children were interested enough to join me (a John Holt approach of course...)
Here are some photos of our morning, some of which we used to illustrate the instruction leaflet.
Then this morning we started choosing which photos were best to use on the leaflet and the boys helped to think up some essential points that needed to be on it. We used children's cookbooks as a starter for our research on layout and content and these were surprisingly helpful. Titles such as 'you will need' were applicable to our project and it helped the boys to see a way of making the leaflet simple to follow.
Hopefully tomorrow we'll get a chance to print out a draft copy of our ideas and show the Scrapstore staff to see what improvements could be made. It's sad to think that teachers in school lack so much creativity that they can't work out how to make stampers themselves. Still, I guess when they've got limited time to tick all the curriculum 'boxes', then it doesn't leave alot of time for creative thinking.
Today and yesterday's activities have left me inspired to think up more ways of using the scrap and marketing it for schools and nurseries. Curriculum packs and projects would be a good money-earner for the scrapstore.
Here are some photos of our morning, some of which we used to illustrate the instruction leaflet.
Success!Though dd1 was a bit disatisfied with the missing patches on the fish and proceded to paint them in. (Groan! Just what I need, another perfectionist in the household)
Dd1 made a 'seaweed' stamper by drawing around her hand with chalk. As expected, she needed a little help with cutting it out, but managed the rest fine.
Then this morning we started choosing which photos were best to use on the leaflet and the boys helped to think up some essential points that needed to be on it. We used children's cookbooks as a starter for our research on layout and content and these were surprisingly helpful. Titles such as 'you will need' were applicable to our project and it helped the boys to see a way of making the leaflet simple to follow.
Hopefully tomorrow we'll get a chance to print out a draft copy of our ideas and show the Scrapstore staff to see what improvements could be made. It's sad to think that teachers in school lack so much creativity that they can't work out how to make stampers themselves. Still, I guess when they've got limited time to tick all the curriculum 'boxes', then it doesn't leave alot of time for creative thinking.
Today and yesterday's activities have left me inspired to think up more ways of using the scrap and marketing it for schools and nurseries. Curriculum packs and projects would be a good money-earner for the scrapstore.
************
The afternoon was spent at our regular meet up with other home edders at a local adventure playground. Not content with the ample supply of sticks at the playground the boys decided to bring their own from our back garden (cuttings from when our apple tree was pruned). As usual there was lots of play fighting, occasionally getting out of hand, but mostly good humoured.
I discussed with another home educator how well all the children get on with each other when they play fight and how different it is when other children (particularly school children) join in. We concluded that the group have formed their own unwritten 'rules' about what sort of fighting is acceptable or not and that the group appears to educate newcomers and enforce the 'rules'. It's difficult to see how this happens in practice, or exactly what the rules are, but it is very noticeable how the group dynamics change from their usual state, into a slightly disruptive, excited state of having newcomer(s) enter the group and then again return to normal once the newcomers have been integrated and have accepted these group 'rules'.
The fighting can look very violent, but mostly it is staged and choreographed and so looks worse than it really is. Occasionally things don't go to plan and there are a few tears, but it seems, in most cases at least, to arise from misunderstandings between the home ed children rather than malice. For example a childd (often my ds1) will like to be the victim, being repeatedly captured and taken prisoner, or always succumbing to the bottom of the scrum! But there are times when he doesn't want to be this role anymore and it's not easy for him to communicate this to the others. Fortunately these sorts of problems are quickly rectified, sometimes needing the intervention of a parent, but mostly sorted out among the children themselves. The children have remarkable interpersonal skills which, unless you observe them for long periods of time and avoid adult intervention, would probably go unnoticed
Tuesday, 29 January 2008
Learning beyond the classroom:education for a changing world
The above is the title of a book by Tom Bentley that I stumbled upon accidentally while browsing on Amazon. It arrived a few days ago ahead of all the other 'home education' books that I've ordered and today I managed to get a swift look at a few pages.
I know nothing about the author, but just from the introduction I feel the book might have a few nuggets to interest a home educator. While he is primarily looking at how education within the current school system can be improved so that children become fully functioning adults within society, he seems to be only a few steps away from the conclusions that some home educators come to: that school can be for some children a pointless experience and for others an outright damaging experience.
Here is a quote from the introduction:
'At the heart of the argument is the recognition that learning can take place in any situation, at any time, and that to improve the quality of education we must overcome the historical mistake of confusing formal, school-based instruction with the whole of education. This does not mean that learning is easy. Developing understanding and the capacity to thrive is challenging and difficult, and to do so successfully requires discipline, rigour and consistent effort. But if we continue to focus our efforts to improve the abilities of young people on the institutions which contain them, we will soon reach the limits of progress. If we want a quantum leap in education performance, we must be prepared to think more radically, and to develop young people's capacity to learn in society, rather than at one remove from it'
he continues later..
'Young people are not empty vessels waiting to be filled with the wisdom of ages. From the earliest age they begin to convert their experience into assumptions and theories about the world. Their learning should incorporate and reflect these assumptions, and challenge them to become deeper and more sophisticated. But too often, school-based instruction encourages them to place what they learn in a narrowly-bounded category, failing to give them the means with which to compare it to the other assumptions and experiences that make up their world view. Overcoming this failure is partly a question of good teaching, but it also depends on direct experience: the chance to test out formal knowledge in a range of circumstances, to observe other people using such knowledge in varied and valuable ways, and to learn how conflicting perspectives can be reconciled.'
Recently I've been discussing autonomous education with several home educators. I say, recently, but it's a recurring topic, particularly at our fortnightly pub evenings. While some of us - including me - lurch from autonomous to a more controlled/controlling form of home education, there are others who are so firmly convinced of it's benefits, that they have wholeheartedly taken on an autonomous approach.
At the Museum
Personally my gut instinct tells me that an autonomous approach to education is right, is natural, is surely what must work best. After all, what better way for a child to learn than by following his/her own interests, developing at their own pace, learning things when they need to, because they need to. I should, in theory, be nothing more than a facilitator for my children's education. But - and there's always a BUT - I'm not sure how much it works in practice for us.
Chalk drawing 'bugs' on our
front path one evening
There are periods of frustration and doubt, fears of how I might be failing my children, when I feel the need to impose some sort of educational regime. This is usually as a result of an encounter with an overenthusiastic parent and their 'genius' child(ren). I call all children who apparently have more knowledge than my children in key areas a 'genius'. I'm guessing this is more due to my own insecurities and the need to label these children with something that excuses my children for their 'lack' of knowledge. Anyway, for whatever reasons, the doubts flow. 'What about maths???! What about spelling?!!! If so and so's child can convert digital to analogue time, knows their 9 time table and can draw a dodecahedron, then why can't mine?
So I panic and we lurch into some brief period of formal education and lots of resistance. Fortunately the panics seem to be getting further apart, so I guess that must be a good sign, yes? Alternatively it might just mean I'm beyond caring anymore! Well, whatever, the kids are always much calmer when we're 'autonomously educating'. I'd like to say I'm more relaxed about it too, but I'm not so sure. Underneath all those years of formal education nibble away at my new-found beliefs. After all these years I'm still deschooling...
Making a 'fish' from empty cups-->
Thursday, 15 February 2007
PERNICIOUS PARENTING and the meaning of Furniture Moving
Ok, so it's been a week of little work, home education work that is. I figure since everyone else gets a week off for half term then we have a right to be rather lazy for a week too. And actually, more to the point, I really can't be a**ed this week.
I don't suppose most parents of school children will see this week as a week off. Some that I know of will visualise it as HELL ON EARTH.
The HELL ON EARTH reference is more likely to come from those with 5 year old boys - you know, the testosterone-fuelled hyperactive destructa-monsters with a 30-second concentration span, who, like something off of Dr Who are programmed to DISMANTLE , DESTROY and DISAPPEAR.
Parents with these children, well, they just have my sympathy.
Been there, done that, got the blood stains on the t-shirt.
This wont apply to those lucky parents with girls of course. Afterall, in my experience girls will quite willingly sit quietly for hours quietly doing 'creative things', while mummy drinks coffee, reads magazines, watches movies or goes to bed for a 2 hour afternoon nap.
Yes really! I know these parents! (and I hate them for it, in a nice generous way of course).
I suppose one advantage to the home educating parent of always being around their children and available to them 24/7 is that you can, quite rightfully, tell them to b****r off sometimes (in a politically-correct, child-friendly way of course). While this may lay on your conscience a short while, there is some justification for occasionally feeling the need to let rip. I personally feel that being 'on tap' to my children all day, gives me a reason - if not a right - to occasionally demand that I go for a wee without an entourage of 3 small beings trailing behind me and making bizarre requests through the bathroom door.
Call me a demanding mother, but it doesn't seem to be alot to ask for.
Of course being at home with 3 children IS 'work' and I dare anyone to do my 'job' for a month and not see it as 'work'. [Please, someone, take up the dare, I could do with a holiday]. I don't believe all those parenting books that talk of how rewarding parenting is (urggh). I just don't see it. Afterall, the job description basically states that you must be willing to work all hours, meeting all needs, with only 2 types of reward: minor satisfaction (usually at having kept your temper during the utmost provocation) and major despair (usually at having lost your temper over something really insignificant). It is of course worth mentioning the perks of the job: that rare benefit of parental gloating over some marvellous achievement of your offspring. However, this usually comes at the expense of someone else's parenting satisfaction and the self esteem of their offspring, so from a moral perspective it doesn't really count.
Still, it's work, it's a job. I sometimes think that monetary compensation for loss of sanity, sense of self and reduced libido due to the nature of the work would be nice, but hey, ho, don't I just lurve to do these wonderful rewarding things for free.
THE RITUAL OF FURNITURE MOVING
Anyway, on to less gloomy things. I have actually achieved something this week, something real and concrete. I've moved some furniture. No, don't dismiss it! It's an achievement and I like to record all my achievements, however small.
Usually triggered by a combination of boredom and visiting the house of another parent - a fantastic house which puts mine to shame - the ritual of furniture moving is a well-known phenomenon in our house. Usually it takes place in the lounge, as there are only two large pieces of furniture in this room and only 2 places they can go. It makes the moving somewhat easier and of course if we don't like it, we know that during the next furniture move (probably during the next 4-6 months) everything will be back where it started. If only parenting was that simple....
p.s. in case you were wondering about the title of this entry, the dictionary definition of 'Pernicious' is as follows:
–adjective
1.causing insidious harm or ruin; ruinous; injurious; hurtful: pernicious teachings; a pernicious lie.
2.deadly; fatal: a pernicious disease.
3.Obsolete. evil; wicked.
—Related forms
per·ni·cious·ly, adverb
per·ni·cious·ness, noun
—Synonyms 1. harmful, detrimental, deleterious, destructive, damaging, baneful, noxious, malicious. 2. lethal.
I don't suppose most parents of school children will see this week as a week off. Some that I know of will visualise it as HELL ON EARTH.
The HELL ON EARTH reference is more likely to come from those with 5 year old boys - you know, the testosterone-fuelled hyperactive destructa-monsters with a 30-second concentration span, who, like something off of Dr Who are programmed to DISMANTLE , DESTROY and DISAPPEAR.
Parents with these children, well, they just have my sympathy.
Been there, done that, got the blood stains on the t-shirt.
This wont apply to those lucky parents with girls of course. Afterall, in my experience girls will quite willingly sit quietly for hours quietly doing 'creative things', while mummy drinks coffee, reads magazines, watches movies or goes to bed for a 2 hour afternoon nap.
Yes really! I know these parents! (and I hate them for it, in a nice generous way of course).
I suppose one advantage to the home educating parent of always being around their children and available to them 24/7 is that you can, quite rightfully, tell them to b****r off sometimes (in a politically-correct, child-friendly way of course). While this may lay on your conscience a short while, there is some justification for occasionally feeling the need to let rip. I personally feel that being 'on tap' to my children all day, gives me a reason - if not a right - to occasionally demand that I go for a wee without an entourage of 3 small beings trailing behind me and making bizarre requests through the bathroom door.
Call me a demanding mother, but it doesn't seem to be alot to ask for.
Of course being at home with 3 children IS 'work' and I dare anyone to do my 'job' for a month and not see it as 'work'. [Please, someone, take up the dare, I could do with a holiday]. I don't believe all those parenting books that talk of how rewarding parenting is (urggh). I just don't see it. Afterall, the job description basically states that you must be willing to work all hours, meeting all needs, with only 2 types of reward: minor satisfaction (usually at having kept your temper during the utmost provocation) and major despair (usually at having lost your temper over something really insignificant). It is of course worth mentioning the perks of the job: that rare benefit of parental gloating over some marvellous achievement of your offspring. However, this usually comes at the expense of someone else's parenting satisfaction and the self esteem of their offspring, so from a moral perspective it doesn't really count.
Still, it's work, it's a job. I sometimes think that monetary compensation for loss of sanity, sense of self and reduced libido due to the nature of the work would be nice, but hey, ho, don't I just lurve to do these wonderful rewarding things for free.
THE RITUAL OF FURNITURE MOVING
Anyway, on to less gloomy things. I have actually achieved something this week, something real and concrete. I've moved some furniture. No, don't dismiss it! It's an achievement and I like to record all my achievements, however small.
Usually triggered by a combination of boredom and visiting the house of another parent - a fantastic house which puts mine to shame - the ritual of furniture moving is a well-known phenomenon in our house. Usually it takes place in the lounge, as there are only two large pieces of furniture in this room and only 2 places they can go. It makes the moving somewhat easier and of course if we don't like it, we know that during the next furniture move (probably during the next 4-6 months) everything will be back where it started. If only parenting was that simple....
p.s. in case you were wondering about the title of this entry, the dictionary definition of 'Pernicious' is as follows:
–adjective
1.causing insidious harm or ruin; ruinous; injurious; hurtful: pernicious teachings; a pernicious lie.
2.deadly; fatal: a pernicious disease.
3.Obsolete. evil; wicked.
—Related forms
per·ni·cious·ly, adverb
per·ni·cious·ness, noun
—Synonyms 1. harmful, detrimental, deleterious, destructive, damaging, baneful, noxious, malicious. 2. lethal.
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