Yesterday my 7yr old received her handwriting pen licence. I had no idea there was a standard of writing required to be trusted with a pen. Thinking back to my days in primary school perhaps they should’ve let us prove our worth with ink.
Being able to write with a pen was a highlight and I remember those days so clearly but I’ve always wondered why we just couldn’t bring a reliable pen from home. The right of passage to getting your hands on a pen was so complicated back then. I can actually picture the absolute mess in Room 11. All those desks with ink wells, 9yr olds armed with cheap fountain pens from the corner shop. Of course there was always the child who pitched up with a state of the art fountain pen and it would make no difference to the quality of their handwriting.
I think what our teachers failed to tell us was that writing with a fountain pen was an art not at all like grabbing a ball point pen and getting on with it.
The end of the school day always showed signs of a struggle with tiny fingers looking like they’d had a ink fight and eyesore blotches on uniforms. I can’t remember how long this battle continued I’m certain I was glad to see the end of my fountain pen. These days I write with any pen I can get my hands on.
My daughter is now a qualified pen user and has the certificate to prove it. She has been perfecting her cursive writing with the letter ‘X’ being her foe and finally she has perfected it. I haven’t seen the pen she was awarded because it’s so special it has to stay at school. Huh!
It’s not the end though because she’s been informed about ongoing pen skill assessment and failure to maintain the standard will result in her licence being revoked. Really? It is just a pen isn’t it?
So the snow has been falling all day and it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Christmassy is more like it though and I’m feeling almost compelled to put up the Christmas tree and perhaps some carol singing. I’ve got to break this train of thought before I have my girls asking for snow time gifts.
Being the social network butterfly that I am I’ve slowly been getting ‘closed school envy’. It seems every school in close proximity to our dear one has announced it’s closure. Though I’ve already decided it will be a snow day for us it will be great if its official.
So please head teacher you have my number so…call me maybe!
As it turns out it’s much more than I initially thought. There was so much thought and research put into choosing our daughters names and of course we think they suit them and their personalities brilliantly. Sadly we didn’t think much further than that like the moment that they go to school. Up until now this name writing phase has passed relatively fuss free until my last born went to nursery with her nine letter name. Granted there is some repetition the sheer length seems to be draining the enthusiasm out of her ability to learn.
I’m as keen as the next person to see my children grow and develop but for goodness sake my baby is just over two months shy of her fourth birthday. I was a overgrown six and a bit years old when I first put my foot in a classroom. I literally went from home straight to school and my teacher Miss Redman proceeded to teach me how to spell and write my name (ironically it’s nine letters as well). Alas, the education system is very different here in the Uk than it is in my native South Africa. So I guess making the mental adjustment is key.
Gabrielle is due to start ‘big’ school in September and I’ve no doubt she would’ve mastered her name writing by then. It just breaks my heart to hear reports from her teacher that my baby feels anxious about not being able to write her name. Really? Anxious? Personally I don’t think she’d care that much if it wasn’t made an issue at school.
We’ve done our part now and my little girl is sat at the table with her older sisters practicing and improving her writing skills in a specially chosen book.
My only regret now is that we didn’t name her Mia because that would’ve made her life so much easier and this might have been a totally different blog!
This morning my house was filled the sound of wailing, sniffing and sobs. If I’d been a passerby I would’ve imagined that something really awful had happened. Well actually something awful had happened my five-year old Gemma discovered that her school shoe had vanished during the night. I must be honest there was very little empathy from my side. You see I’ve told my kids on countless occasions the importance of storing shoes in pairs. I’m not dogmatic about where they are stored just that they be together.
I couldn’t help but feel today was the day for her to learn that lesson and I had no doubt the message would be made clear to her siblings. In between sobs I was asked what she should do. My ‘you should listen to your mother’ tone went into overdrive. My solution was simple choose another pair of shoes and I’m sorry they’re not black but fuchsia will have to do. At this point the crying went to another level and she eventually went to school in a pair of polka dot Wellington boots and a pack of tissues to dry a now endless production of tears and snot of course.
Safely in the car and on our way to school I started having second thoughts about the boots. I mean what kind of mother does this? I found a problem solver she could change into her physical education shoes after-all they are black, the downside is they are canvas and not practical for outdoor play on a wet turf.
On my way home I just knew I had to try to find that shoe and I did after all but two minutes. Now I would’ve just left them paired for her to find after school or I could take them to school and give her one less thing to worry about. Being the pushover I am I carted the shoes all the way to school. I’d like to think they’ve all learnt a valuable lesson. Somehow deep down inside I know this will not be the last time!
Tomorrow my girls go back to school after their Christmas break. While I’m really happy for a bit of breathing space and a break from endless cartoons and all things animated. Even stranger is their excitement to return to school. I suspect it’s mainly due to the planned report on their Christmas gifts. No doubt the thrill of being back at school will quickly subside once Friday arrives with homework.
Now all I have to do is master the art of getting to the alarm clock before it gets to me. Night school would be such a convenient option for a sleepy head mom like me!
Having three young children means that I should have some kind of routine but sadly this is not the case. When I became a mother I decided that I would raise my children my own way. Being traditional has never been my way! This was relatively easy while I was the only one responsible for raising and teaching them many different things about life and my husband doing his share which always seems to be all things fun. The time has now come when two of my daughters are in school and are exposed to many different ideas both positive and negative. It is of course a very scary time for me as apparent. I’ve now realised that I can no longer control what they are exposed to.
The weekend is upon us again and it’s my chance to give my girls a bit of the freedom they lose every time they go to school. The weekend in my opinion is a time for a serious lack of structure, time to eat all the food that is banned from their packed lunches and wearing mismatched clothes. It is a world far from the school gate, reading mat, maths board and assembly hall. It may only be two days but it certainly makes a difference to their little lives and mine.
Bringing a child into the world is one of the most amazing things a person can experience! However being the mother of 3 young children can really take its toll on you.
Today was the first time for far too long that I had a six-hour break from all of my princesses. Strangely I spent the day at home so much for all of the amazing plans I had.
Fortunately my two year old settled in quite nicely at the crèche otherwise I would have felt terribly guilty.I guess as a mother you are always left second guessing yourself regarding decisions which have an impact on your little ones lives.
I now have Mondays to look forward to…MY ME DAY!!!