I had a moment of revelation yesterday. It doesn't happen too often so when it does I have to make the most of it. The noise levels in our house and hideously high. We shout conversations from room to room, and often I have to shout to be heard above the bedlam. I am not (well, not often) shouting at them angrily, but because they make so much noise I shout to be heard.
You may think this is obvious (and lets be honest, it really is) but I realised that if I stopped shouting, the boys might stop shouting! I have been saying to them for weeks now "If you want to speak to me, don't shout me from another room but come and find me", only to discover that I am also guilty of that very act. Our house is extremely noisy and I am very grateful that we live next door to 2 deaf old ladies, but I still think we have room for improvement in the noise stakes.
If Supernanny came to my house she would be making me practice speaking quietly to my children. I am sure she would not approve of the 'fishwife's yell' that I have perfected over the last 8 years. Sometimes I stand at the back door bellowing their names, naively expecting that they will listen if I shout louder. Listen, they do not, and so I shout even louder. I have come to realise that I am inherently lazy (and this is probably obvious too) and actually what I should be doing is the simple task of putting on my shoes and walking the small distance to speak to them face to face.
So, this is my aim over the next few days. I will try to stop shouting, and I will try to bring some civilisation to my hullabaloo of a home.
Tuesday, 23 March 2010
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
Parent-Teacher Consultations
Parent's Evening. It fills me with dread. I know it is irrational, but it feels like an appraisal of my mothering skills (or lack of). This is what I expect them to say:
"Your son can't read because you don't do enough reading with him at home."
"Your son is so unbelievably disobedient."
"Your son cannot concentrate on anything."
"Your son is violent."
"Your son just does not listen."
.....the list is endless......
Perhaps this is because I have a vivid imagination, or perhaps it is based on behaviour that I deal with day in and day out at home, but I always expect the worst.
Usually my expectations are totally wrong and I leave the school with a sigh of relief and a spring in my step. My appraisal went well. Unfortunately there is no pay rise, but I have met all my targets. This time last year, however, I left the school in tears having been told that Toby would 'never be a writer'. I know I have written about this on here before so I won't bore you all with the sordid details again.
One year and a different teacher on, however, we hear a totally different story. Not only is Toby writing well now, but he is well exceeding his 'targets' for literacy. His actual handwriting has improved beyond belief and he is bursting with creativity and imagination. It took all my self control to stay sitting on the tiny plastic chair. I wanted to leap in the air (it is a good job I didn't, it would not have been a pretty sight) and I wanted to kiss the teacher. Somehow I managed to squeak out a thank you but that felt so inadequate for what he had achieved. It is his teaching that has inspired Toby and motivated him to learn and write. It is his style of teaching, noticeably different to others, that Toby has responded to. I am so grateful that I almost went beyond Parent - Teacher etiquette. Perhaps I will save that for the end of the year.
So my appraisal this term seemed to go well. So far they have not set the school on fire, pooed in the sinks of the girls toilets, been rude to the teachers, set off the fire alarm, strangled another child (that was last year...), made papier mache with spit and fired it at the back of the teacher's head or given anyone a chinese burn. I can breathe a sigh of relief until the next time.
"Your son can't read because you don't do enough reading with him at home."
"Your son is so unbelievably disobedient."
"Your son cannot concentrate on anything."
"Your son is violent."
"Your son just does not listen."
.....the list is endless......
Perhaps this is because I have a vivid imagination, or perhaps it is based on behaviour that I deal with day in and day out at home, but I always expect the worst.
Usually my expectations are totally wrong and I leave the school with a sigh of relief and a spring in my step. My appraisal went well. Unfortunately there is no pay rise, but I have met all my targets. This time last year, however, I left the school in tears having been told that Toby would 'never be a writer'. I know I have written about this on here before so I won't bore you all with the sordid details again.
One year and a different teacher on, however, we hear a totally different story. Not only is Toby writing well now, but he is well exceeding his 'targets' for literacy. His actual handwriting has improved beyond belief and he is bursting with creativity and imagination. It took all my self control to stay sitting on the tiny plastic chair. I wanted to leap in the air (it is a good job I didn't, it would not have been a pretty sight) and I wanted to kiss the teacher. Somehow I managed to squeak out a thank you but that felt so inadequate for what he had achieved. It is his teaching that has inspired Toby and motivated him to learn and write. It is his style of teaching, noticeably different to others, that Toby has responded to. I am so grateful that I almost went beyond Parent - Teacher etiquette. Perhaps I will save that for the end of the year.
So my appraisal this term seemed to go well. So far they have not set the school on fire, pooed in the sinks of the girls toilets, been rude to the teachers, set off the fire alarm, strangled another child (that was last year...), made papier mache with spit and fired it at the back of the teacher's head or given anyone a chinese burn. I can breathe a sigh of relief until the next time.
Saturday, 6 March 2010
The problem with blogs....
.... is that they can be totally misunderstood. Even if you make it as clear as a mountain spring, you will still be misunderstood. Blogs are read by people who do not know me, do not know how I react to life on a day to day basis, might not know my values or the lessons I have learnt in life. I welcome other people's opinions, even if they are different to my own, but what I find hard is when people judge the writer rather than the blog itself. As far as I know, this has not happened to me... yet!
Some writers will be wise enough to not worry about whether they are judged and misunderstood or not. I wish I could be like that. This blog often expresses my deep thoughts and emotions and if I were to be misconstrued or judged I would find that almost paralysing. Although I know this would be an over reaction, and it is far more important that I please my Father in Heaven, rather than His creation.
We need to examine our hearts in this. When we read a blog, do we build up a picture of the writer in our heads that is totally incorrect? Is it our job to judge and condemn each other or should be leave that to the ultimate Judge who knows and tests our hearts? How then, in this light, should we read blogs? How do we guard our hearts against criticism or pride? How do we
make sure our heart is right before God? We need to "strive for peace with everyone" (Hebrews 12 v 14) which means working hard at it, even if we differ in opinion. We need to see past our own prejudices, defence mechanisms and pride. If we cannot do this, then perhaps we need to get before God and ask Him to help us change. He has commanded us to do these things, and He can give us the power to make it possible for us to do them.
Let's be more aware of the things in our lives we need to deal with, before daring to point any out to other people. It's not up to us, after all.
Some writers will be wise enough to not worry about whether they are judged and misunderstood or not. I wish I could be like that. This blog often expresses my deep thoughts and emotions and if I were to be misconstrued or judged I would find that almost paralysing. Although I know this would be an over reaction, and it is far more important that I please my Father in Heaven, rather than His creation.
We need to examine our hearts in this. When we read a blog, do we build up a picture of the writer in our heads that is totally incorrect? Is it our job to judge and condemn each other or should be leave that to the ultimate Judge who knows and tests our hearts? How then, in this light, should we read blogs? How do we guard our hearts against criticism or pride? How do we
make sure our heart is right before God? We need to "strive for peace with everyone" (Hebrews 12 v 14) which means working hard at it, even if we differ in opinion. We need to see past our own prejudices, defence mechanisms and pride. If we cannot do this, then perhaps we need to get before God and ask Him to help us change. He has commanded us to do these things, and He can give us the power to make it possible for us to do them.
Let's be more aware of the things in our lives we need to deal with, before daring to point any out to other people. It's not up to us, after all.
Sunday, 28 February 2010
Best Boy Insults
Here is a list of the 'insults' that frequent our home. Why boys find these so amusing I will never understand, but amusing they find them. You may find a theme occurring. Feel free to add to my list the (harmless) insults that are thrown around your boy-full home.
Poo poo stinky face fat face
Poo poo alien head
Stink face
Booby face
You stink of poo
Wee wee head
Stinky poo poo head
Hog face
Bog face
Booby belly
Big fat belly head
Bottom belly
Fart face
Poopee pants
Stinky winky
Bogey mouth
Bogey brain
You've got a backside on your head
Butt head
Wee wee wonka head
When I read this list aloud to my boys they could not stand up for laughing. Are they really that funny? I will never know.
Poo poo stinky face fat face
Poo poo alien head
Stink face
Booby face
You stink of poo
Wee wee head
Stinky poo poo head
Hog face
Bog face
Booby belly
Big fat belly head
Bottom belly
Fart face
Poopee pants
Stinky winky
Bogey mouth
Bogey brain
You've got a backside on your head
Butt head
Wee wee wonka head
When I read this list aloud to my boys they could not stand up for laughing. Are they really that funny? I will never know.
Thursday, 25 February 2010
Green Grass
This blog is the opinion of the author and no offence is intended to anyone living differently to me..... but I have to be honest and real..... so here goes....
As a mum who has chosen to stay at home with my children, I go through different phases of being incredibly content to stay at home and watch my boys grow up, knowing that I am blessed to be in such a position and phases of being totally bored and desperate for some sanity and adult normality. As rewarding as it is, being at home with small children is often mind-numbing, repetitive, physically draining and demoralising.
Now, I know all the arguments for it and I know how precious it is, and how special it is to be able to be the main influence in my boy's lives but every now and again I am tempted to look at the green grass on the other side of the fence. That grass, to me, looks so fresh and inviting sometimes. To be able to leave the house in the mornings and not have to look at it all day; to not have to talk to any children about fossils, Curious George or Sarah Jane Adventures all day; to be able to eat my lunch without any food being thrown at me; to be in the car without having to listen to cheesy children's music; to be able to use my brain and my skills for something other than star charts; to have a salary where I can have money to actually buy my boys the things they want without feeling guilty; to be able to go guilt-free clothes shopping; to be a real person called by my real name instead of "mum". All these things seduce me.
Yet I know that I have made this choice, and to go back on it would be to go back on my principles. Feel free to disagree with me, but I think staying at home with small children is the more difficult road to walk and one that requires determination, patience, perseverance, endless energy and sacrificial love. How many other people would work such long, physically draining hours and not get paid for them? Only a mother. Now, I know that some women are not in the position where they have a choice in whether to work and I am not attacking anyone else's lifestyle, choices or necessities. I am simply saying how I am feeling and at this moment in time, I am tempted by the alluring, crisp grass on the other side.
As a mum who has chosen to stay at home with my children, I go through different phases of being incredibly content to stay at home and watch my boys grow up, knowing that I am blessed to be in such a position and phases of being totally bored and desperate for some sanity and adult normality. As rewarding as it is, being at home with small children is often mind-numbing, repetitive, physically draining and demoralising.
Now, I know all the arguments for it and I know how precious it is, and how special it is to be able to be the main influence in my boy's lives but every now and again I am tempted to look at the green grass on the other side of the fence. That grass, to me, looks so fresh and inviting sometimes. To be able to leave the house in the mornings and not have to look at it all day; to not have to talk to any children about fossils, Curious George or Sarah Jane Adventures all day; to be able to eat my lunch without any food being thrown at me; to be in the car without having to listen to cheesy children's music; to be able to use my brain and my skills for something other than star charts; to have a salary where I can have money to actually buy my boys the things they want without feeling guilty; to be able to go guilt-free clothes shopping; to be a real person called by my real name instead of "mum". All these things seduce me.
Yet I know that I have made this choice, and to go back on it would be to go back on my principles. Feel free to disagree with me, but I think staying at home with small children is the more difficult road to walk and one that requires determination, patience, perseverance, endless energy and sacrificial love. How many other people would work such long, physically draining hours and not get paid for them? Only a mother. Now, I know that some women are not in the position where they have a choice in whether to work and I am not attacking anyone else's lifestyle, choices or necessities. I am simply saying how I am feeling and at this moment in time, I am tempted by the alluring, crisp grass on the other side.
Monday, 22 February 2010
KAPOW!!!
Guns. The great debate. Should little boys be allowed to play with toy guns? I have to admit that when Toby was younger I was very anti-guns and tried extremely hard not to let him have any or play with any. Everything inside of me screamed out (and still does) that gun play was a violent game that was totally inappropriate for children to play.
"Don't they realise how devastating a real gun can be? Have they not watched the news recently and seen how evil people with guns can ravage a whole community?"
Of course they haven't! Why would they watch the news? Why would they know about such terrible violence?! Even if I tried to explain it to them, which I did sometimes, they still would not understand. They are playing a game. It is not real life. It is far from real life for them (hopefully).
I very quickly realised that the more I tried to protect my son from guns, the more he would want to play with them. Everything from a toy guitar to a chewed up piece of toast was transformed into a gun. He made them out of lego, sticks, crayons and even his own beautiful little angelic hands. It horrified me to see him playing out such terrible games, but I was fighting a losing battle.
I have not done a great deal of research on this, but I honestly do not think that gun play turns boys into violent men. If it did, there would be a lot more violent men out there today. More important factors in producing violent teenage boys and men are more likely to be the values they have been given as foundations in their lives, the way their Dad (or other significant men) has dealt with his own anger and the love and security they have received as children. I'm sure there are many more.
Boys have an inbuilt need for adventure, for 'the chase', for danger and for 'hunting' and if we don't let them express these when they are younger then perhaps when they are older, stronger and able to access more dangerous equipment they will begin to assert these needs in ways that are not games anymore.
What do you think? Let's have a poll. Should little boys be allowed to play with guns?
"Don't they realise how devastating a real gun can be? Have they not watched the news recently and seen how evil people with guns can ravage a whole community?"
Of course they haven't! Why would they watch the news? Why would they know about such terrible violence?! Even if I tried to explain it to them, which I did sometimes, they still would not understand. They are playing a game. It is not real life. It is far from real life for them (hopefully).
I very quickly realised that the more I tried to protect my son from guns, the more he would want to play with them. Everything from a toy guitar to a chewed up piece of toast was transformed into a gun. He made them out of lego, sticks, crayons and even his own beautiful little angelic hands. It horrified me to see him playing out such terrible games, but I was fighting a losing battle.
I have not done a great deal of research on this, but I honestly do not think that gun play turns boys into violent men. If it did, there would be a lot more violent men out there today. More important factors in producing violent teenage boys and men are more likely to be the values they have been given as foundations in their lives, the way their Dad (or other significant men) has dealt with his own anger and the love and security they have received as children. I'm sure there are many more.
Boys have an inbuilt need for adventure, for 'the chase', for danger and for 'hunting' and if we don't let them express these when they are younger then perhaps when they are older, stronger and able to access more dangerous equipment they will begin to assert these needs in ways that are not games anymore.
What do you think? Let's have a poll. Should little boys be allowed to play with guns?
Wednesday, 17 February 2010
Hero
Why do little boys love to be with big boys? Are they learning how to be 'big'? This half term we have had the pleasure of visiting our Southern Element. Well, once we arrived it was pleasurable but as always, long journeys with 3 boys squished into the back of the car needing the toilet or another book / biscuit / sweet / drink are not even mildly enjoyable (torturous was the word that sprang to mind). "Muuuuuum, he hit me again", "Muuuuuum, he keeps leaning his head on me" or "Muuuuum, how much longer?" do not make for a pleasant afternoon drive.
The Southern Element consists of my brother, my sister in law, their beautiful daughter (and my one and only niece) and their 2 lovely sons. The oldest boy is now 13 and growing into manhood. (Yes, I know you are reading this.... but it's true!). He has always been by far the oldest grandson of our whole brood of 9 grandsons and 1 grand-daughter and is therefore admired and exalted to a position of hero by all the other boys in the family. He rises well to his challenge and takes on all the bundles that are thrown his way.
On this particular occasion Toby was overawed by his cousin's teenagehood. Not only did he have an X-Box in his own bedroom, but he also had amazingly cool music to listen to. Toby followed him around like a little lamb following it's shepherd, watching his every move, listening to the exact tone of voice he used and the exact phrases that came out of his mouth. How exciting must it have been to be Toby, standing in the shadow of his hero for a whole 24 hours!
Toby has come home with a whole new way of living, speaking, wearing clothes, playing and has made new requests of downloading 'good tunes' onto his mp3 player. He wants to be 13 and he wants to be 13 now. Thankfully, this will fade until the next time he sees his idol.
This has made me ponder about role models. Boys need them, and they need good ones. A Dad is, of course, the first port of call, but what if the Daddy is not there? Or if he does not show his son how to make good choices or how to control his anger? Even if the Dad is there, sometimes other men will need to help out and be mentors in different situations. Boys will always find someone to follow, to look up to and to teach them how to be a man. Our job as parents of boys is to find the right men for them to follow and to guide them towards those men. If we fail to recognise their absolute need for a male role model then we fail in our mission of bringing them up to be men. This is a vital part of our parenting and one which I hope we will be able to do as our boys grow up into their teen years and beyond.
The Southern Element consists of my brother, my sister in law, their beautiful daughter (and my one and only niece) and their 2 lovely sons. The oldest boy is now 13 and growing into manhood. (Yes, I know you are reading this.... but it's true!). He has always been by far the oldest grandson of our whole brood of 9 grandsons and 1 grand-daughter and is therefore admired and exalted to a position of hero by all the other boys in the family. He rises well to his challenge and takes on all the bundles that are thrown his way.
On this particular occasion Toby was overawed by his cousin's teenagehood. Not only did he have an X-Box in his own bedroom, but he also had amazingly cool music to listen to. Toby followed him around like a little lamb following it's shepherd, watching his every move, listening to the exact tone of voice he used and the exact phrases that came out of his mouth. How exciting must it have been to be Toby, standing in the shadow of his hero for a whole 24 hours!
Toby has come home with a whole new way of living, speaking, wearing clothes, playing and has made new requests of downloading 'good tunes' onto his mp3 player. He wants to be 13 and he wants to be 13 now. Thankfully, this will fade until the next time he sees his idol.
This has made me ponder about role models. Boys need them, and they need good ones. A Dad is, of course, the first port of call, but what if the Daddy is not there? Or if he does not show his son how to make good choices or how to control his anger? Even if the Dad is there, sometimes other men will need to help out and be mentors in different situations. Boys will always find someone to follow, to look up to and to teach them how to be a man. Our job as parents of boys is to find the right men for them to follow and to guide them towards those men. If we fail to recognise their absolute need for a male role model then we fail in our mission of bringing them up to be men. This is a vital part of our parenting and one which I hope we will be able to do as our boys grow up into their teen years and beyond.
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