Tying Laces. And Other Stuff

We are currently drowning under a pile of Year 1 homework.


When I was in Year 1 we didn't have homework. Well certainly not to this extent. (And when I was a girl Paddle Pops were 60 cents, and I walked home by myself.) This week we have a daily reader, homework books, Mathletics, and a talk on rhinos to do. Fo' realz. 


Amidst all this, we're teaching the Doctor how to tie his shoelaces. You can pooh pooh me all you like - and say we are late bloomers to this, but I am not one to push, and we do things at our own speed, when we are good and ready. 


On the weekend I found this video that I thought was a cute way to teach your kid how to tie their shoelaces. 

Ordinary people must be saying: "But PMM, why do you need a video?" Well a couple of years ago I discovered that I don't tie my shoelaces correctly, I have some funky way of tying them, and it's not completely successful. It still serves me well, but I thought I'll relearn with the Doctor so we can learn together.


So I am now learning to tie my laces too. 

Life As A Funeral Director

Back when I was 15 - at school we had to do 'Careers' as a subject. We had a teacher who had the world's biggest combover, wore short sleeve shirts and wreaked of BO. Not terribly inspirational.


As part of this course we had to answer a questionnaire on the computer, which would then tally up your likes, dislikes, favourite colour, favourite food and personal disposition, and spit out what it thought you should be.


Sounds exciting, doesn't it?


So that computer spat out my results. What it thought I should be when I grew up.


A funeral director.


My 15 year old brain imploded.

And then I left it there.

I continued school, studying anything I could that would move me away from becoming a funeral director. Visual arts. Drama. Modern history. English. No biology.

So it must have been three years later, towards the end of year twelve, when school leavers are preparing to hit the real world, and I was working out which degree I wanted to apply for. 

We had a different careers advisor by this time (phew) - and I shared my dream to tread the boards, and become an actress.

Her response: "You'll never make any money."

My 18 year old brain imploded.

Way to take my dreams, hold them up to the light, then throw them to the ground and stomp on them. Repeatedly. Way to go.

So I ditched the idea of going to NIDA.

I completely ditched it. Those dreams were dashed, and I've never really reconsidered it. Those poorly chosen words just kept ringing in my ears.
Instead the careers advisor told me I should pursue something like public relations.

And I did. I went to uni, attended one class of public relations theory, left that class and thought "I can't sit through that" - and enrolled in Writing instead. But worked in PR the whole way through my degree. I got the best of both worlds.

But lately I've been thinking of being a funeral director and how life would have been so different. It takes a gentle art to be a funeral director I think.

Have you ever had a mid-life crisis/career change?

image via: Daily Mail

A Big Week At Chez PottyMouth

Well, well, well.

It's been a big week around our neck of the woods.

The Doctor started back at school. Exciting. Scared. Nervous. Poor little guy was so nervous on the day, he couldn't eat much for breakfast, so we just chatted about why he was nervous; what was going to happen at school (we could only guess); and how he knew lots already about school - and he'd be back with his friends.

This week he is KO'ed and hitting the hay early every night.

Golly gosh he makes my heart swell.

And the other big news for the Doctor...
He lost one of his top front teeth on Tuesday - and the Tooth Fairy came overnight. Mega cute attacks.

Tiny is at a new preschool and loving it. I have such a good feeling about the preschool, and can't wait 'til I get to go and pick her up again, because I just quite like being there! Maybe I should study early childhood, then I could go there more often. 

And the good news here: Tiny is hitting the hay early too - which is amazeballs because like I've said before, that girl has STAMINA, with a capital S. 

How's your week going? School? Packing lunches? You ok? 

Gareth Malone: Art of Teaching

Did you watch Gareth Malone's Extraodinary School for Boys on ABC1 last night? If not, you totes missed out. He is amazing. Catch it on iView if you can - it's a brilliant prgram. Particularly if you have boys.

Stuff

It's the pointy end of the year and it's really starting to hurt.

I ran around all weekend, and on my day off, I think I spent more time in the car than anywhere else. And I've still got shopping to do.

My body even aches!

But onwards I go - and so do you friends, because that's what we do.

Tiny celebrates her fourth birthday on Friday and I can barely believe it's been four years since that little mermaid swam into the world. Probably time for another baby. Matt. Hear that??

The Doctor had his school presentation tonight, and received a citizenship award. Of course I got teary. I was already teary when the Kindy + Year One choir sand 'True Colours'. The Doctor's award tipped me over the edge. Proud.

Did I tell you I shrunk in the wash? Yep. And I dyed my hair red. Hawt or what?

I don't really have much else to report on.

Oh - and yet I do. We got our Christmas tree on the weekend. I spent Saturday afternoon decorating it, a bit baffled the smalls weren't interested in helping, but I kept on humming away with the dazzle and sparkle. That night, after it was looking perfect, the damn thing fell over. Yes. You can only imagine my glee. So I went and bought a proper Christmas tree holder thing. This is an investment my friends, but worth it. The tree is - VERTICAL! Be amazed. Be astounded.

Have you decorated?

Christmas Gift Ideas: Teachers

A few peeps asked for ideas for teachers, so I put together a list of ideas with a bit of a budget in mind - because that's the way it is in my house. Hope you find some inspiration ladies to say thank you to some of the most influential people in your children's lives. Teachers.

Give the teacher an apple. Probably the coolest post-it notes ever - Collection of Cool $6.50

One of my ideas this year was a potted geranium in these Gigi pots for our beautiful Kindergarten teacher - Freedom $19.95

When all breaks out in the classroom, remind your teacher to Keep Calm and Carry On - Lark $15.95 (for 4)

I don't think you can beat Lavender Hand cream - L'Occitane $9.95

Fog Linen Work 100% linen pouch - Mr Kitly $19.95

 A beautiful Angel candle - Queen B $19.95

Cute and quirky little nest sparrow - Papier d'Amour $15

Gift your teacher a bright oversized tea cup and they'll be the coolest in the staff room - T2 $28

I'm borrowing this idea from Heather. Cool limited edition tea towel - Salvation Jane $19

If you liked it then you shoulda put a pom pom on it. Man, do I like this cush? YES! - Castle velvet cushion $49

Olivina Honeysuckle Rose Hand & Body Wash 500ml - Saison $22.95 (sale)

What do you think? Straight As? Go to the head of the class? Gold star to PMM? Do tell.

Thanks to Baby Mac for setting me on the straight and narrow.

Here's A Good Reason To Say No To Bullying

Bribery & Parenting 101

I've taken to bribing the smalls to do mundane everyday things that they're just not that into.

1. Like brushing teeth. A couple of weeks ago I introduced "The Toothbrushing Time Trials" in preparation for "The Toothbrushing Olympics". The smalls don't know that they are the only competitors - and quite frankly, they don't need to know. But heck. This idea works a charm. I get Matt's iPhone, prep the stopwatch and BOOM! Two minutes of teeth brushing bliss for both of them. No wrangling with Tiny. No whinging. No lightweight brushing.

Gold star to mama.

2. In the interests of keeping the peace, Matt has decided to keep the smalls bathing separately. But I can't be bothered waiting for two rounds of bath-times, so I've been bribing them to get into the bath with a squirt each of this Imperial Leather Foamburst. Have you seen this? It's lush! Like washing myself with rich shaving cream, well that's the consistency. And the smalls - it gets them every time! Boom! Straight into the bath.

Gold star to mama.

3. When the smalls aren't asking for food, I feed them. A snack bowl full of celery, grape tomatoes, carrot sticks, whatever's on hand. Those smalls don't see me coming. Sneaking vegetables into them. Making them less fractious before dinner time. I swoop in there like a secret vegetable avenger.

Gold star to mama.

4. The Doctor came home from school upset. He needed some coaxing, but finally told me that someone had punched him in the tummy. Again. And that because I had drawn a love heart on his yoghurt, half the class laughed at him and made fun of him - and the poor little dude, he cried. The worst thing? I've always put hearts on his lunchbox - because I LOVE him - and that morning, I had thought, hmm, maybe I shouldn't. Then I thought - shucks, he's in Kindergarten. He's six. It's ok! It's love! Wrong mama. Wrong. So I wrote a little note to his teacher to let her know. He came home triumphant. Everyone in the class HAD to come to school with hearts and love notes from their parents in their lunchboxes. How cute is that? And the puncher. He got reprimanded very swiftly. School is the HARD YARDS!

Gold stars all 'round.

And here ends my bribery & parenting and ranting 101.

Image is Tiny looking scary.

The Art Of Bullying

I've written previously about the bullying. About the Doctor's first year, first term even, and being bullied. About the angst it brings. That feeling, as a parent, of feeling helpless, of guilt, of wanting to stand up for your small child. And the anger.

I'm lucky that the Doctor's teacher is so amazing, and as soon as I've mentioned it, she's stepped in, found the next appropriate moves - and made them.

It was only on Sunday, when we were enjoying the sunshine that the Doctor sidled up to me and told me he had something to tell me. But that he wouldn't say it in front of his Daddy or Tiny.

I neatly tried to angle away from Matt and Tiny. Tiny threw an almighty tantrum and screamed, but I had to segue so I could chat with him. He rarely comes out with these things, and I know that when he comes to me, I need to tread carefully because he withdraws further and I have to work harder and harder to get the information that he tentatively wants to share with me.

And so it was that he told me that a boy in his class, in fact a guest at his birthday party, had orchestrated a 'team' to team up against the Doctor. One kid kicked him in the face. And that another kid in another Kindergarten class punched him in the stomach whenever he sees him. "It doesn't happen as often anymore, but everytime he sees me, he does it. He punches me." Then it all made sense.

It was then that I realised why the bad moods, the feistiness, the very things I put down to being a six year old boy. The morning ritual of telling me he felt sick. I bought it because he has been sick. He's had a cough. He's had month long colds. But man I wish I had seen this coming. Because that sickness he described in his tummy? Anxiety. Butterflies. That sick feeling when you're dreading something, translated by a six year old as being sick.

No wonder he's never really told me he loved school. I expected him to fall in love with school. I was a big nerd at school (heck, still am!), and loved it. I've been waiting for him to fall in love with it. But it's not there yet. He loves reading, and writing, and the joy he gets when he can sound out a word - thrilling. This learning to read ride is a giddy, awe-inspiring ride, and education can never be undervalued. But he doesn't love it, just yet at least.

And when I think about bullying being part of the Kindergarten culture - well it makes me wonder what's going on in these kids homes to think that HEY THAT'S OK! How are their parents going to react when the teacher tells them what their little five or six year old has been up to? What happens?

So I'm sharing this story, in the hope that if your child is being bullied, maybe our story will help you. Or maybe your child is the bully - and maybe this story will help you too, because it's not ok.

Bullying in any shape or form is not ok. Never. Ever.

image totally unrelated. Me sitting in woeful traffic.