That Moment When You Realise You Are The Parent You Said You Would Never Be

Noah is in “foundation” at school. He has been given phonics to learn since the day he started foundation. I vowed I would never, ever be That Pushy Parent. In fact, I read an article in the Daily Mail recently* which left me thinking what in the name of Lucifer are these people thinking? Why would they push their kids so insanely hard? Are they mentalists? Shall I get off my high horse now?

And I remember saying to myself “fuck that, no way am I pushing my kids that hard.”

This morning, Noah is home because he was working on his Bodily Orifice Fluid (BOF) yesterday, and so isn’t allowed to go to school. Me? I would have sent him. It’s only because he ate a gallon of fruit for breakfast and then continued to shovel food down his gullet the entire day, why we had expulsions. He was perfectly fine in himself, no complaints of aches or pains at all. So this morning I was still asking D if he was going to school.

What? I didn’t want him to miss out. Or something.

I thought maybe I was being a little bit pushy, so I let it go. Y’know, other parents would be pissed if he went in and suddenly pebble dashed the entire classroom, right? Right.

What I DIDN’T see coming, was me lying in bed thinking about getting his cello out so he can have a play. I thought that could be his musical fix, EVEN THOUGH he played on my piano last night for 15 minutes AND regularly sings songs throughout the week anyway. Not even out of bed and already planning a school day. I decided to move on, but hadn’t predicted putting on a counting and maths DVD (WHUT? It was Mickey Mouse. STFU.) quickly followed by working through a couple of pages in his maths books while I downloaded more numbers and letters apps for my iPad. I gave him a pot of crayons to attempt to write some letters and numbers. After that, I gave him his phonics cards to play around with where he casually breezed through the 19 letters he knows so far.

I swear to god, it wasn’t planned. But the fear of him falling behind from just one day off from school seemed to have permeated my brain, leaving me a shell of my former, slightly normal self, and instead there was this crazed parent, determined to get her nearly 4 year old doing quantum physics by the end of the day.

What the fuck happened? He is not even FOUR, for crying out loud. He fidgets like crazy every time I sit him down to do this stuff, and sometimes he freezes over completely when he sees the books or cards or whatever sitting on the counter. Can I blame the kid? No. Do I blame myself? Partly. And the school? Also partly. I don’t like reading his Reading Diary and seeing “Noah still doesn’t know “b”, please keep practising at home.” What in the hell do you think we’re doing? Do you not think he tries? Did it never occur to you that maybe he’s just a fraction slower than the other kids?

Not everyone is a genius.

The very fact that Noah even KNOWS the phonic sounds for 19 letter of the alphabet, pleases me immensely. He is so not stupid. I’ve never known any kid ask so many questions, and repeats the answers back to us some weeks later (after no recap). I need to give him a break. Which will happen as soon as the teachers give me a break. Sometimes a kid wants to come home from school and just be a kid. That’s no crime. Now, as soon as I can wake the fuck up and ensure that is actually happening here at home, that will be sweeeeeeeeeeeeet.

Now excuse me, Mickey Mouse is counting something else on Disney Jnr, and I need to make sure Noah is paying attention.

* Please don’t hate me The Mr sent it and I didn’t know what it linked to and I suddenly found myself on the site and I didn’t mean to be there but it just happened it was an accident I’m sorry it’s his fault.

My new toy. And not a dildo in sight.

I still haven’t entirely got my head around going to Jamaica to see my Gramps in a few weeks.

Sorry, did I say “a few weeks”?

I meant “OMG 12 DAYS WTF I AM NOT READY GAHHHHHHHHHHH”.

So yeah, totally prepared.

I’m still immensely piss that the boys and D aren’t going. I hate that they’re not going, hate it. Weirdly I suspect I’ll feel rather lonely, despite the fact that the majority of my immediate family will be there. I’m taking as much technology as I can (more technology than clothes, I suspect) in the hope that I can Skype the boys and introduce them to their Great Grandfather. Much as I’ll be “sunning myself in Jamaica”, I suspect I’ll be wishing I was with my own family.

Needless to say, I’ll be taking my camera(s). I plan on photographing the crap out of everything. As we’ll be on the beach, it kind of makes sense to make sure I have appropriate equipment, right? So after much consideration, indecisiveness and deliberation, I decided to buy this.

Panasonic Lumx DMC FT3 Underwater Camera-1 © Jay Mountford Photography

It does this.

Panasonic Lumx DMC FT3 Underwater Camera-4 © Jay Mountford Photography

And has this.

Panasonic Lumx DMC FT3 Underwater Camera-7 © Jay Mountford Photography

I try not to go too much into camera porn, but I’d agonised over this for ages. I’ve been saving my pennies for this trip to Jamaica, and I plan on making the most of it so that I can show the boys when I come home. Isaac won’t have a clue, but I know Noah will ask a lot of questions.

In fact, I suspect Noah will have a shit load of questions; added to that, he’s just discovered David Attenborough’s Hidden Planet and is loving underwater stuff at the mo. Added to that, Isaac naturally has a love of Finding Nemo, so obviously I can incorporate an underwater theme of some sort into their lives.

I’ll be taking a zillion photos. For me, it will be nothing like the real thing. But hopefully for them, it’ll be the absolute best thing I can provide them.

Start them early. Y’know, like before they’re even conceived.

I knew perfectly well that Noah would be excellently supported academically when we put him in to private school. We want the absolute best we can get for him. I hated that I had to absolutely bust my ass to get anywhere with little to no support from the school; I also hated the fact that rules in my school seemed to have become rather lax. Added to having worked in numerous schools as a peripatetic teacher and whilst working for my PGCE, my eyes were very much opened to systems of education.

Ok, calm the fuck down, I’m not slating every teacher ever to have worked in public/state/whatever-the-fuck-it-is-these-days schools, but I am saying the ones I saw? Left me very, very cold and twitchy.

So yeah, we’re just trying to give our boys the absolute best education we can.

However. I ask the schools for support, help and understanding. Of course! And we get that, we get that a lot.

What I DON’T ask for, is pushy learning and target high-fiving. Especially not for a 3 year old.

Noah came home this week with a “Sounds and Key-words” case; in it were 3 tiny cards with the letters s, t and a, and a “diary” for us (parents) to fill in when he’s done some reading. I’m also reliably informed by D that there’s a “pack” which I need to read through, and also a CD to listen to.

I’ll just say it again – he’s 3 years old.

Now, OBVIOUSLY I want to help and encourage Noah as best as I possibly can. He has bedtime stories every night, where he watches and listens completely engrossed. He then has a book in his bed to fall asleep with, and will flick through it when he awakens in the morning. He has a mini library in his room, as does Isaac, and they share another bookcase rammed with books in our lounge. If I’m honest? Between them? It’s possible they have more books than D and I put together.

I worked through the letters with Noah for about 2 minutes. It was all I dared to do. About 30 minutes later, I did it again, for 2 minutes (he knew ssssss, so we incorporated “apple” and “tiger” for his other letters). This is how it ended.

Noah: Mommy, you’ve given me too much words because my head is aching.

MBM: Ok, we’ll stop now.

Nuff said.

The Smalls’ Singing Interlude

Sometimes, we like a bit of a singsong. Just ‘cos.

Dear So and So…Isaac

Dear Baby Boy

I should stop calling you that, shouldn’t I? You’re SO not a baby any more. You still look like one, to me, but you’re really really NOT. Sometimes, to me, you even still sound like one. When you cry, or when you chatter to yourself in your bed in the mornings. It’s cute as hell. Sometimes I wish you weren’t cute as hell, because then I could accept the fact that you’re not a Baby Boy.

Growing at a rate of knots, you’re scaring the crap out of me and your father. But we love watching you. You’re hard work sometimes, but you are definitely being awesome with it.

Trying to keep up, Your Mother x

Isaac Sept 11 Uniform. © Jay Mountford Photography.

~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~

Dear Little Small

How are you not small any more? When did that happen? Why have you gone through 2 shoe sizes in the space of 2.5 months? Wtf? Why are you not still crawling around on the floor? Why are you in a bed and not a cot? DId I fall asleep for a year? Are you trying to freak me the hell out?

Stoppit.

Much love, The Thin Haired Lady Who Wibbles A Lot

~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~

Dear Transition

I can’t WAIT for you to show my boy a world of new things to see and do. I can’t wait to see him take on everything you can throw at him, because he will take it head on. HEAD. ON. I just hope you can keep up with him.

Yours, Mrs M.

~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~

Dear Isaac

I love you. You’re actually amazing. Everything you’re doing right now? Absolutely amazing. The conversations you have? Make me laugh so much. Your responses when people talk to you? Perfect. Your unprompted manners and politeness? Pretty much impeccable. You’re not a baby. You’re not even a toddler. You’re 2 and a half years old, and you’re a little boy; a little boy who should be much bigger, just to contain everything about you that is amazing.

You started school this week. You went to the arms of the teachers with little hesitation, waved goodbye and blew a kiss. Then you were gone. The last two days, I’ve picked you up from school and the teachers have said they barely even know you’re there apart from when you want kisses, cuddles and to play rough and tumble. You get on with things in your own little way, just the same as you do at home.

I never had any fears for you starting school at all. I knew you’d just go in and do what you need to do. But you still, somehow, blew me away with your attitude.

I am so proud of you.

Also? Please don’t break too many hearts as you get older; I’m not sure I can cope with a steady stream of “Hello Mrs M, is the gorgeous Isaac at home?”. Just watch who you’re fluttering those big eyes at, yes?

Insanely proud, Mom xx

Little Small uniform Sept 11. © Jay Mountford Photography.

~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~

Dear Readers

I can’t take credit for Dear So and So, that’s the work of the mighty Miss Kat over at 3 Bedroom. You should go do one too.

Well go on then..