A new year, one month in and one full week back at school!
This time last year, I was stressing about Pup starting high school – and now I just feel silly! It seriously was a waste of energy because this year we cruised through the start of the year. Except for the ‘Textbook Issue” that is. Two days into the new term and Pup informed me that he doesn’t have any textbooks BUT all his classmates do. This confused me for a while because I assumed that he would be given a form to take home requesting payment details… Because it was now a Friday afternoon, I decided not to worry about it until Monday. And we all know those teachers and staff simply do not hang around on Fridays unless they really have to – and then they can be just a little bit cranky…
I phoned the school on Monday and spoke to a lovely lady, who asked me if I had the newsletters emailed to me. I replied, “Yes”. She then asked if I had the last one from last year. Fortunately I did because that one goes to my ‘junk’ email account, so I could honestly reply – Yes again… She then told me that the form was attached to the email. I responded that I didn’t see it and she replied, “Nobody did”. I’m still confused about how the other kids got their textbooks in the meantime…
Poor Cub is now in year six and Wow! The homework has been a massive shock for both of us. For the last two years he had the same teacher and her homework requirement were sporadic and bordered on almost nonexistent. This year he has a new teacher and she must really have loved homework when she was a child. Each day, (including Fridays) he has to write out a times tables four times, write out 25 spelling words, 5 sentences, read for 15 minutes, complete a handwriting task, and help with some housework. Then there are two other tasks to complete during the week and those choices range from discussing his religious beliefs with an adult to playing a board game with an adult to researching his favourite element and creating a chart for it. As Nana put it, when is it Cub time?
You’d think there would be some sort of uniformity in how much homework and what tasks were required. Pup never had that amount of homework in Year 6 or 7 so I guess it depends on the teacher. Fortunately Cub loves to read and does so anyway. Can you imagine if he was a ‘non-reader’? He already makes his own bed and sometimes helps out with dinner, so I reckon that counts as housework. I have the privilege of signing off on each task (daily) too so I have homework too! I wonder how many parents are going to cheat and simply sign for those tasks…
So far Foal is enjoying Year 2. The highlight is his teacher’s bird. It spends the day in the classroom ringing its bell and apparently when she starts talking about “boring stuff”, it starts shrieking. Then she covers it up and it quietens down for a bit. She seems to be really strict so fortunately Foal is well behaved.
The school is also phasing in a new school uniform. Foal has decided that he does not like it and will not wear it. This from a child who can be very stubborn! Even as a baby, it took us all of winter to get him to wear a jumper and all of summer to get him out of it. Hopefully when he is the only one in the school wearing the old uniform, he’ll be more inclined to change over…
Sunday, 7 February 2010
Thursday, 17 December 2009
Cub – 11!
My baby - My Reflection!
For these traits I apologise:
- Your shyness and quietness at school
- Your obsession with some things
- Your fiery attitude (although it comes in handy sometimes, you need to learn how to control it)
These I do not apologise for:
- Your love of reading
- Your honest indignation at unfair wrongs
- Your brilliant intelligence (although I probably can't claim full credit there)
- Your obsession with some things
- Your sense of humour
I love you and am very proud of you. I am honoured to be your mum.
For these traits I apologise:
- Your shyness and quietness at school
- Your obsession with some things
- Your fiery attitude (although it comes in handy sometimes, you need to learn how to control it)
These I do not apologise for:
- Your love of reading
- Your honest indignation at unfair wrongs
- Your brilliant intelligence (although I probably can't claim full credit there)
- Your obsession with some things
- Your sense of humour
I love you and am very proud of you. I am honoured to be your mum.
Thursday, 26 November 2009
Happy 13th Birthday Pup
Where have the years gone? It feels like only yesterday I was waking Dad up to tell him that it was time to pop off to the hospital. I'd already been awake for a couple of hours, stupidly thinking that the first few labour pains were easy to deal with. I'd phoned the hospital and they suggested we pay them a visit. Dad was more interested in a cup of coffee but I packed our bag and we left. A few hours later and there you were.
This time last year, I was stressing about you starting high school but you have sailed through with style. I honestly don't know why I was worried but I think a part of it was that I was not ready to let you go. I'm still not but that's my problem, not yours.
You are an amazing individual, with an enormous amount of creativity, talent and imagination. It is my privilege and pleasure to watch you grow into the intelligent and sensitive man you are becoming.
I am so proud of you and I love you my Babe.
This time last year, I was stressing about you starting high school but you have sailed through with style. I honestly don't know why I was worried but I think a part of it was that I was not ready to let you go. I'm still not but that's my problem, not yours.
You are an amazing individual, with an enormous amount of creativity, talent and imagination. It is my privilege and pleasure to watch you grow into the intelligent and sensitive man you are becoming.
I am so proud of you and I love you my Babe.
Saturday, 10 October 2009
19 Years – A Tribute
On this day, 19 years ago, I had one of those life-changing experiences. You know – one where your whole world changes.
19 years ago, it was a Wednesday and a public holiday in South Africa. We spent the day with Elaine and her family and for that I am extremely grateful. We got the ‘phone call' from the hospital around 8-ish at night to tell us my mom had died.
I was 16, my sister 12 and my brother 10. For as long as I can remember, she had been in and out of hospital fairly often. I’m still not really sure why but that was our life and we dealt with it.
The days, weeks and months following that were some of the hardest for me. The pain eased a little over the years but it became massively worse when I found out I was pregnant with Pup. Maybe it was ‘just hormones’ but I really did pick up the phone (a few times) to call her. (Someone suggested I phone my mum-in-law instead, mainly because I actually knew that number.)
I often wonder where my life path would have taken me if she had not died. And sometimes that scares me more than anything. Would I still have had a wonderful husband, three lovely boys and live in Australia? Would I actually be the person I am now? I guess I’ll never know.
I do know that I’ve been very blessed to have some incredibly strong and influential women in my life – my Mom, Norma, Elaine and Yvonne.
19 years ago, it was a Wednesday and a public holiday in South Africa. We spent the day with Elaine and her family and for that I am extremely grateful. We got the ‘phone call' from the hospital around 8-ish at night to tell us my mom had died.
I was 16, my sister 12 and my brother 10. For as long as I can remember, she had been in and out of hospital fairly often. I’m still not really sure why but that was our life and we dealt with it.
The days, weeks and months following that were some of the hardest for me. The pain eased a little over the years but it became massively worse when I found out I was pregnant with Pup. Maybe it was ‘just hormones’ but I really did pick up the phone (a few times) to call her. (Someone suggested I phone my mum-in-law instead, mainly because I actually knew that number.)
I often wonder where my life path would have taken me if she had not died. And sometimes that scares me more than anything. Would I still have had a wonderful husband, three lovely boys and live in Australia? Would I actually be the person I am now? I guess I’ll never know.
I do know that I’ve been very blessed to have some incredibly strong and influential women in my life – my Mom, Norma, Elaine and Yvonne.
Wednesday, 30 September 2009
School Holidays
Little Miss M (the girl who lives over the back of our fence) has gone from peeking through the fence to actually hopping it. It’s true that she does have my permission when her parents give theirs – but does it have to be every day? Any who…
Nana had been in Adelaide for a few days and Pops was ‘strongly encouraged’ to ‘pop’ down and share the first weekend of the school holidays with us. He wisely agreed and hopped in his Ute for the normally 3-hour drive. Someone forgot to tell the Ute that trip was supposed to only take 3 hours but Pops, Shayla and the Ute did make it here safe and sound. A bit hot, tired and shaken from all the bouncing but safe and sound nonetheless.
Naturally, Little Miss M hopped the fence on the Friday afternoon after school to play with the boys. She was back again on Saturday. On Sunday afternoon, Pops and Dad decided to play footy with the boys – and you guessed it - she wanted to join in! She hopped over the fence and the game was on! The rules changed from my boys ‘normal’ game of footy – stand and kick the ball to the other side of the fence – to one that was full of action and actually running around. When the ball was kicked over the fence, and the guilty culprit went to reclaim it, a water break was called.
Pops and Dad wanted to desperately drop out of the game but both foolishly refused to let the kids know that they were exhausted. The ball came back and the game almost continued. This time though, the delay was because the kids were fighting over which adult was on which team. Little Miss M decided she wanted the ‘Old Codger’ (Pops) on her team. I mentioned to Pops later that it was better than saying she DIDN’T want the ‘Old Codger’ on her team, and I think that made him feel a bit better.
Pops went back home on Monday, but I reckon he enjoyed his weekend with us.
Last Thursday, Nana came back from Adelaide, and as Nana sometimes does, had bought some lollies. I think it’s the first time she’s met Little Miss M, plus Pup’s friend, Little Mr C, was here for the day. Nana took it all in her stride and still had lollies galore!!! Admittedly, Nana would not have handed out lollies if she did not have enough for all kiddies on the premises.
I’m glad Nana’s back because I’ve missed her. Plus she took the 3 boys back to “Far Far Away”. We’ll be off to get them back tomorrow – Can’t wait but I’m trying to enjoy the peace before the storm…
Nana had been in Adelaide for a few days and Pops was ‘strongly encouraged’ to ‘pop’ down and share the first weekend of the school holidays with us. He wisely agreed and hopped in his Ute for the normally 3-hour drive. Someone forgot to tell the Ute that trip was supposed to only take 3 hours but Pops, Shayla and the Ute did make it here safe and sound. A bit hot, tired and shaken from all the bouncing but safe and sound nonetheless.
Naturally, Little Miss M hopped the fence on the Friday afternoon after school to play with the boys. She was back again on Saturday. On Sunday afternoon, Pops and Dad decided to play footy with the boys – and you guessed it - she wanted to join in! She hopped over the fence and the game was on! The rules changed from my boys ‘normal’ game of footy – stand and kick the ball to the other side of the fence – to one that was full of action and actually running around. When the ball was kicked over the fence, and the guilty culprit went to reclaim it, a water break was called.
Pops and Dad wanted to desperately drop out of the game but both foolishly refused to let the kids know that they were exhausted. The ball came back and the game almost continued. This time though, the delay was because the kids were fighting over which adult was on which team. Little Miss M decided she wanted the ‘Old Codger’ (Pops) on her team. I mentioned to Pops later that it was better than saying she DIDN’T want the ‘Old Codger’ on her team, and I think that made him feel a bit better.
Pops went back home on Monday, but I reckon he enjoyed his weekend with us.
Last Thursday, Nana came back from Adelaide, and as Nana sometimes does, had bought some lollies. I think it’s the first time she’s met Little Miss M, plus Pup’s friend, Little Mr C, was here for the day. Nana took it all in her stride and still had lollies galore!!! Admittedly, Nana would not have handed out lollies if she did not have enough for all kiddies on the premises.
I’m glad Nana’s back because I’ve missed her. Plus she took the 3 boys back to “Far Far Away”. We’ll be off to get them back tomorrow – Can’t wait but I’m trying to enjoy the peace before the storm…
Friday, 7 August 2009
Time Flies
Wow! It has been absolutely ages since I last wrote anything! Quite a few things have happened … Foal turned 7, the silkworm eggs from last year have hatched, and I’m looking for a job.
The most important one was Foal’s birthday! I’m not sure which bit is more surprising – the fact that he survived until the age of 7, or the fact that I survived him turning 7 and didn't get locked away somewhere. Don’t misunderstand me because he really is a lovely boy. At least he is when things are going his way. When they don’t… well, let’s just leave it at the end of the world sounds like a lovely experience.
He was horribly spoiled on the actual day. Our tradition is Dad and I buy the presents (more on this bit in a moment), I wrap the presents and then I have to hide them around our home. I’m the one responsible for this last bit because when the boys were MUCH younger, they’d wake us up in the middle of the night wanting to open their pressies. Alright, I might be exaggerating that bit because it was more like 5 am. I am not a morning person so when I had the brilliant idea of hiding their pressies around the place, I figured it would buy me enough time to make my coffee. Cruel, I know but it worked – until they decided to search for stuff and then wake me up! And that’s only when they wanted to know if they’d found them all. I guess it’s a type of payback… Now every year they request the “Treasure Hunt” as it’s now called.
Buying of the presents is always interesting. Because all three boys tend to be very specific about what they want, they write detailed lists for us. They even indicate which ones are the more desirable. I know – very considerate of them.
Foal is no exception to this rule and the majority of objects on his list were Transformers. Actually, that’s all he had on his list with absolutely no room for negotiation. Personally, I blame the movie. How dare they bring out “Transformers 2” just before his birthday!
Anyway, Dad, the list, and I popped into the toyshop. Dad immediately picked up a huge (and obscenely expensive) Bumblebee. I told him that it’s the wrong one. He disagreed and the first discussion (read - argument) began. I’m sure it amused the staff but we finally ended up with “Fine! You can take it but you DO NOT get to choose anything else!” (Obviously that last comment was mine). I chose two other Transformers from his list, a stencil set, a slinky and a really cool bug robot for him.
The next morning our tradition began as usual. The other part of the tradition is that on school days, they can choose one present to open before school and the rest must wait. Because Dad starts work long before I’m even thinking about crawling out of bed, this rule has been amended. Now they can open one present with me, and then another when he gets home from work. I think that’s more than fair.
Foal’s first choice was the really brilliant stencil set and that’s probably because he couldn’t figure out what was inside. Due to the packaging of certain toys he’d already worked out that he had at least two transformers – he just didn’t need to know which ones yet.
His second choice was the present Dad had picked for him. Unfortunately, by the time Dad got home, he’d figured out what was inside. The stupid thing makes noises and all but told him its name.
Foal then declared that this was the worst day ever. First he got the stupid stencil thing and that wasn’t even on his list. And then he got the wrong size Transformer!
Lucky for him, he had school to go to! That cheered him right up! Ungrateful little creature!
Anyway, Dad and I recovered and while he was at school, I actually made him a cake. At the time I wondered whether he’d appreciate it but I did it anyway.
After school his day (and attitude) had improved. He finally decided that he had had a great birthday and the cake was the best ever! By the time he was in bed I put his initial cranky ungratefulness down to over-excitement and anticipation.
And a final message for Foal – If you should actually live long enough to read this, this whole post has been firmly tongue-in-cheek. This last bit is true.
I am extremely proud of you.
I admire your spirit, confidence and conviction.
Know and remember always that
I love you.
The most important one was Foal’s birthday! I’m not sure which bit is more surprising – the fact that he survived until the age of 7, or the fact that I survived him turning 7 and didn't get locked away somewhere. Don’t misunderstand me because he really is a lovely boy. At least he is when things are going his way. When they don’t… well, let’s just leave it at the end of the world sounds like a lovely experience.
He was horribly spoiled on the actual day. Our tradition is Dad and I buy the presents (more on this bit in a moment), I wrap the presents and then I have to hide them around our home. I’m the one responsible for this last bit because when the boys were MUCH younger, they’d wake us up in the middle of the night wanting to open their pressies. Alright, I might be exaggerating that bit because it was more like 5 am. I am not a morning person so when I had the brilliant idea of hiding their pressies around the place, I figured it would buy me enough time to make my coffee. Cruel, I know but it worked – until they decided to search for stuff and then wake me up! And that’s only when they wanted to know if they’d found them all. I guess it’s a type of payback… Now every year they request the “Treasure Hunt” as it’s now called.
Buying of the presents is always interesting. Because all three boys tend to be very specific about what they want, they write detailed lists for us. They even indicate which ones are the more desirable. I know – very considerate of them.
Foal is no exception to this rule and the majority of objects on his list were Transformers. Actually, that’s all he had on his list with absolutely no room for negotiation. Personally, I blame the movie. How dare they bring out “Transformers 2” just before his birthday!
Anyway, Dad, the list, and I popped into the toyshop. Dad immediately picked up a huge (and obscenely expensive) Bumblebee. I told him that it’s the wrong one. He disagreed and the first discussion (read - argument) began. I’m sure it amused the staff but we finally ended up with “Fine! You can take it but you DO NOT get to choose anything else!” (Obviously that last comment was mine). I chose two other Transformers from his list, a stencil set, a slinky and a really cool bug robot for him.
The next morning our tradition began as usual. The other part of the tradition is that on school days, they can choose one present to open before school and the rest must wait. Because Dad starts work long before I’m even thinking about crawling out of bed, this rule has been amended. Now they can open one present with me, and then another when he gets home from work. I think that’s more than fair.
Foal’s first choice was the really brilliant stencil set and that’s probably because he couldn’t figure out what was inside. Due to the packaging of certain toys he’d already worked out that he had at least two transformers – he just didn’t need to know which ones yet.
His second choice was the present Dad had picked for him. Unfortunately, by the time Dad got home, he’d figured out what was inside. The stupid thing makes noises and all but told him its name.
Foal then declared that this was the worst day ever. First he got the stupid stencil thing and that wasn’t even on his list. And then he got the wrong size Transformer!
Lucky for him, he had school to go to! That cheered him right up! Ungrateful little creature!
Anyway, Dad and I recovered and while he was at school, I actually made him a cake. At the time I wondered whether he’d appreciate it but I did it anyway.
After school his day (and attitude) had improved. He finally decided that he had had a great birthday and the cake was the best ever! By the time he was in bed I put his initial cranky ungratefulness down to over-excitement and anticipation.
And a final message for Foal – If you should actually live long enough to read this, this whole post has been firmly tongue-in-cheek. This last bit is true.
I am extremely proud of you.
I admire your spirit, confidence and conviction.
Know and remember always that
I love you.
Sunday, 5 July 2009
Pets and Phobia
When Foal was about 2 years old, Dad came up with a brilliant idea. The boys needed a pet.
The first problem was (and still is) that we rent and it can be really tricky to find rental properties that allow pets. Children – yes, but pets – no. Go figure…
The second problem was what sort of pet should we get. I’m more a cat person and Dad is more a dog person. I don’t like birds in cages and I do not want a hand-reared bird wandering all over the house leaving a mess behind it. We had already tried the fish tank experience and that can get really expensive when the stupid things keep eating the plant life. What’s even worse is that they die easily. If you so much as look at them funny, they roll over and play dead - except they do it for real.
Dad decided we should get some mice. Never mind the fact that we had just recently spent a few dollars on mouse traps to remove the ones that had wandered in on a cold night and decided to stay. As Pup says, Anywho…
I agreed to have a look at the rodents and we popped into a pet shop. I became rapidly bored at looking at all the ‘mouse accessories’. Who knew they needed so much stuff? I could hear puppies barking and kittens mewing and thought it might be a good experience for Foal to see them. And so I maneuvered him, and his stroller, towards the sounds.
Then, I looked up and spotted a giant rock python behind glass. That was when I ran screaming from the pet store. Leaving Foal abandoned in his stroller to fend for himself.
Dad followed fairly quickly. At least he had the hindsight to rescue the child. He was extremely embarrassed by my ‘display’ and asked if I’d heard the shop attendant yelling, “It’s not real!”
My main question then, was if the “Rock Python” was not real, why was it behind glass?
The only funny thing about that whole incident, was that it truly was a “Rock Python”.
The first problem was (and still is) that we rent and it can be really tricky to find rental properties that allow pets. Children – yes, but pets – no. Go figure…
The second problem was what sort of pet should we get. I’m more a cat person and Dad is more a dog person. I don’t like birds in cages and I do not want a hand-reared bird wandering all over the house leaving a mess behind it. We had already tried the fish tank experience and that can get really expensive when the stupid things keep eating the plant life. What’s even worse is that they die easily. If you so much as look at them funny, they roll over and play dead - except they do it for real.
Dad decided we should get some mice. Never mind the fact that we had just recently spent a few dollars on mouse traps to remove the ones that had wandered in on a cold night and decided to stay. As Pup says, Anywho…
I agreed to have a look at the rodents and we popped into a pet shop. I became rapidly bored at looking at all the ‘mouse accessories’. Who knew they needed so much stuff? I could hear puppies barking and kittens mewing and thought it might be a good experience for Foal to see them. And so I maneuvered him, and his stroller, towards the sounds.
Then, I looked up and spotted a giant rock python behind glass. That was when I ran screaming from the pet store. Leaving Foal abandoned in his stroller to fend for himself.
Dad followed fairly quickly. At least he had the hindsight to rescue the child. He was extremely embarrassed by my ‘display’ and asked if I’d heard the shop attendant yelling, “It’s not real!”
My main question then, was if the “Rock Python” was not real, why was it behind glass?
The only funny thing about that whole incident, was that it truly was a “Rock Python”.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)