Parenting 101: A memory that became a lesson

My son is spending the day with his new teacher and class-mates today at his year 6 induction day, which is kind of a big deal in his life so far.

He goes to a school that has students from Reception through to Year 12 and the school is split into Primary School, Middle School and High School. Year 6 is the first year of Middle School so he’ll be graduating from Primary School this year with a real graduation ceremony and everything. It’s all a bit strange to me but both my kids seem to enjoy the structure of the school and so far it’s been a very positive experience for all of us.

The thing is, Nathan has a really tight posse of mates. REALLY TIGHT. Most of them went to kindergarten together and then started school at the same time. TOGETHER. They learn together, lunch together, walk together, play club-sport together, Skype together… you get the picture. And for Nathan, that’s extremely important. He’s the kind of kid who, despite being incredibly popular, really values the dynamic of having a small handful of close friends. So when he discovered yesterday that ALL of his mates were heading into one class and he was heading into another, the rug was pulled out from under his world.

And oh god how I felt for him. He was SO upset. Dejected and confused and then really worried about what lay ahead for him, especially because there is a huge intake of new [and potentially scary!] kids in Year 6. I talked calmly and sensibly and made all the right soothing noises but I was panicking inside. 

Why did they do this to my son?? How could they do this to him? How will I fix it?

I spoke to a couple of very wise mum friends who talked me off the ledge and I realised something significant. Nothing needed to be fixed. This may be well be the poster child for a ‘first-world problem.’ He just needed to understand how to manage it. I remembered my own quest to raise a resilient kid and I remembered how resilient I was when I was younger. Through necessity sure, but the end result was pretty decent.

I reminded Nathan that friendships don’t only live in the classroom but out on the oval and in the playground and on the footy field. I told him he would be fine and that he would be lucky enough to meet some new friends and when that didn’t work, I sat on the edge of his bed and quietly told him of a very special and important story...

When I was growing up, a looooong time ago, there was only Primary School and High School and they were two different schools. In different places.

High School started in Year 8 and the first time I met my new teacher in my new school with my new class-mates was on the first day of school.

I was SO NERVOUS. There was only one other girl, called Tara, from my Primary School in my class who was very nice but she wasn’t one my ‘friends’. Of course I sat next to her anyway but I was terrified that I wouldn’t have any friends in my new school.

I sat there quietly and watched as everyone’s name was called out for role call and they had to go up to the front of the class to collect something from our new teacher. I can’t remember what that something was but my surname started with B so I was one of the first people who had to go up the front. It was horrible! But over quickly and then I just sat and watched everyone else.

After some time the list got to W and I watched this girl, who I’d never seen before obviously, walk up to the front of the class. She was so confident! The boys in the class were saying silly things because boys are silly…

"No we’re not Mum!"

Well, SOME boys are silly and they were saying silly things to this girl [What I didn’t tell him, is that her windcheater had a picture of Mickey Mouse on it and the word Mickey printed randomly all over it. That was during the era that people in our neck of the woods called sperm/cum/ejaculation ‘mickey’ and those bastards were saying ‘ooooh she’s got ‘mickey’ all over her top”!] but she did not flinch! She didn’t rush and she didn’t fidget and she had no apology in her step.

I watched her and I thought to myself ‘THAT girl is going to my friend” and by the end of the day, we were friends.

"Yeah, that’s pretty cool actually. What happened next?"

Well… THAT girl is your Aunty Ilka that I’m STILL friends with today and if I hadn’t been alone that day I may not have noticed her. If I had all my Primary School friends with me, I may have only been with them and not had room in my heart for Aunty Ilka. Sometimes these scary days turn out to be the best things that could ever happen to you.

"Thanks Mum."

And just like that, my first day of high school became the gift that keeps on giving. A life-long friend AND a lesson in parenting.

An open letter to the new reception teacher in my life...

Dear Reception Teacher,

Today I hand over to you, my second son. My 4 year old baby. The one that will leave my proverbial nest ‘empty’. The more affectionate of my two… and the more difficult.

Here’s 10 things you should know about my boy… and that I apologise for.

1. He eats ALL THE TIME. Lots of snacks while he’s playing, or colouring, or watching a movie or playing in the garden. I don’t know how he’s going to cope with dedicated times in which he is allowed to eat. I forgot to teach him that, sorry.
2. He’s tactile. He loves to touch and stroke and cuddle. He chooses his own clothes by how nice the fabric feels on his skin first, and how cool they look second. If he feels sad, he will reach out for a hug. I forgot to help him not need that, sorry.
3. He’s the baby of our family and he’s not happy with that position in life. His goal everyday is to prove to everyone that he is as big and capable as his older brother and sometimes he struggles with the reality of that. I forgot to tell him to toughen up, sorry.
4. He’s emotional. He wears his heart on his sleeve and his temper is quick and furious. He can go from saint to terrorist in 2 seconds flat and I forgot to train him out of that, sorry.
5. Sometimes he has trouble wiping his own bum. Sorry.
6. He’s a talker. Day and night. While he sleeps. While he eats. When you are trying to concentrate on something else. During a movie. Underwater. And especially while you’re on the phone. I forgot to teach him to shut up, sorry.
7. He has his own mind and he follows the beat of his own drum, which is often a very different beat to anyone else’s. I forgot to teach him to conform, sorry.
8. He’s not into sports. He likes karate. He likes drawing. He likes to play dress-ups and build imaginary forts. He loves to sing really loud. He doesn’t like to sit still. He doesn’t like to be quiet. He wants to do everything himself. I forgot to teach him to fit in, sorry.
9. He wants to be a dad when he grows up. I forgot to teach him to aspire to great things, sorry.
10. He will take a special place in your heart forever. Sorry.

My last day of kindy

Stefan had his last day at kindy yesterday. It was both an exhilarating and sad day for me. I have always said that I love watching my babies grow. I love every new stage in their development and lives. I love the people they are becoming, so I am not really sad when they reach their milestones [as many other mums are with their babies]. I’m excited and proud. In fact I have been so excited about Stefan finishing kindy and embarking on his school career that I was taken aback when I found myself feeling quite sentimental about his last day. I wrote in a card to his teacher to thank her and it made me cry… just a little bit. Because it’s not just Stefan’s last day at kindy, but mine too. As I walked him out after his farewell presentation, it struck me that I would not return to this amazing place. This world of wonder and discovery and friendships and nurture. This world that helped shape my two boys.

There is a quote by Carl Jung on teachers that sums up how I feel, which I wrote in my card:

"An understanding heart is everything in a teacher, and cannot be esteemed highly enough. One looks back with appreciation to the brilliant teachers, but with gratitude to those who touched our human feeling. The curriculum is so much necessary raw material, but warmth is the vital element for the growing plant and for the soul of the child."

I’m fussy about where my kids spend their time and who they spend it with. I am fortunate that my personal circumstances have allowed me to spend their formative years with them as a full-time, stay at home mum and I am grateful that I have not been forced to put them into childcare due to financial and/or marital struggles. I know there are lots of mums who have also chosen childcare for their kids and that’s ok with me too. It’s just not the way I roll. So, other than a brief stint at Montessori, the teachers at kindy were the first non-family people that I have entrusted my sons to… which was a bit difficult. When young children are left with other people they learn, not only what they are taught, but what they observe. What they hear. What they absorb from those people and from that environment. So I’m fussy about the environments that I leave my kids in and I will forever be thankful for our kindy experience.

Because of the amazing teachers at kindy, my sons adjusted immediately to their new environment. Their friendships with other children there were observed and encouraged so that Nathan’s closest friends 3 years later are the ones he met at kindy. These relationships were considered so important that they make up part of their kindy ‘report card’. Because of the amazing teachers at kindy, I learned that Stefan leads with his left leg when he hops and that he enjoys all ball sports. The fact that he is ‘fit and agile’ is as important on his report as his ‘ability to write his own name’ and ‘precise cutting with scissors’.  They let him know that everything he learns is important – not just the academic stuff. 

Because of the amazing teachers at kindy, Stefan knows that it’s ok to choose an activity less popular than the majority vote and is congratulated for his independent thinking. So he feels confident to stand apart from the crowd. Because of the amazing teachers at kindy, I felt supported in my decision to allow Nathan to start school earlier than he should have, based on their insight into his academic and emotional maturity that I would not have learned about him so quickly. Because of the amazing teachers at kindy, I have learned that, even away from mum’s watchful eye, my sons are kind, respectful, funny, confident, smart, creative, fit, capable and ready for what the world has in store in them.

I take my job as a mum seriously and I have the greatest respect for the teachers at kindy who do too. I take my hat off to everyone who touched my children’s hearts during the beginning of their educational journey. 

I couldn’t have prepared them better myself.

I'm still a virgin - aren't you?

My first time

Today was Stefan’s first school transition visit. 

He was SO excited and fully prepared for whatever the morning threw at him and it got me thinking about the last time I did something for the first time. I came up with 3 of my most memorable virgin experiences…

Going out for dinner and a movie in Gold Class

This happened a few weeks ago. How have I never done this before? Seeing a movie in Gold Class was the worst thing I could do. I can never again watch another movie in the cinema again without spending the entire movie thinking ‘I wish I was in Gold Class’. In Gold Class you have your own personal host who takes your orders, brings you your drinks and comes and gets you when the movie starts to escort you to your own private chairs. Chairs which recline ALL THE WAY and have a table in between them to put your alcoholic beverage on. In Gold Class there’s no-one sitting next to you except for the person you came with which in my case was Mark. Oh, and there’s another first… I can finally say, that I lost my virginity with my husband ;) In Gold Class they bring you your dinner at the time you’ve ordered it for and you eat it in your reclining chair. Same goes for dessert and any drinks you may like. In Gold Class you feel special and it’s very easy to overlook the $70+ per head it cost for the experience. So now, dinner and a movie can all be wrapped up in two hours! I wish I hadn’t let all those Gold Class gift tickets expire over the years…

Wearing brand new gold shoes

I can’t get this first-time experience out of my head because my feet are still sore – and it was last month!! Seriously, wearing new shoes is like heaven and hell all at once. They looked SENSATIONAL and I felt like a goddess when I put them on. Skip to two hours later and I felt like a hag with arthritis and bunions. Granted, I still looked good… if I was sitting down!

Selling my first shirt

Many years ago, in a previous life, I had my own business. It was a concept I stole from Italy and Adelaide embraced its first men’s shirt and tie boutique. Setting it up was a huge feat including developing my own brand and sourcing European shirt and tie manufacturers. On the first day that I opened my doors, I sold 3 shirts to my first ever customer within the first hour of opening. It was nearly an $800 sale. I was SO excited that I nearly kissed him and as soon as he left the shop I danced a jig, fist pumped and, in lieu of the yet to be invented social media vehicles, I called everyone I knew to tell them! Such a great first time memory.

A study of mums at school...

7 mothers you'll meet through your kids

So I’m entering my third year of being a school mum. When your kid starts school – it’s like your first day too. Who will you meet? Will they like you? Will you like them? It has been interesting to me, since becoming a mum, the network you become a part of. The kindergym mums, the swimming lesson mums, the kindy mums, the Montessori mums, the playgroup mums and so on. I found myself weeding and sorting and sometimes picking the best of a bad bunch to align myself with. Other times being overwhelmed at the really good selection of new friends. I have seen a recurring type of mum over the last 7 years. A few in fact. Do you recognize any of these?

The Desperado

This Mum has an annoying kid – and she knows it. None of the other kids want to play with hers so she’s desperate to make friends with you so you can hang out and she can bring along her annoying kid to your playdates. She injects herself into conversations with you and other mums and laughs a little too loud at all your jokes and tells stories about her kid that you know are actually dreams. I always end up being friends with this mum.

The Teacher’s Pet

That was her position when she was in school and she wants her kids to follow in her footsteps. She’s the one on every committee, at every excursion and working at every fundraiser. Her kid is the one hugging past and present teachers and bringing in homemade gifts. I treat them with the same disdain as I did from the back of the class when I was in school.

The Recently Separated

This poor mum is a wreck. She’s missing out on every event and feeling terrible about it. Her kid is always in the wrong uniform, or costume and missing out casual days because they fall on dad’s days and he ‘never f*cking remembers anything’.

The Perpetually Separated

This mum looks hot. All the time. Your partner probably knows her name and feels sorry for the rough time that she’s having bringing up Dick and Jane on her own. I try not to stand too close to her in my leggings, oversized jumper and bed-hair bun.

The Functioning Alcoholic

This mum talks about drinking every time you see her. She’s either nursing a hangover, planning afterschool drinks or on her way to a liquid lunch. She brings grown-up bubbles to every event she’s invited to… including morning tea. You know her husband’s a useless prick.

The CEO

Who’s ever even seen this mum? She’s the one in the Mercedes Sports Car with tinted windows dropping her kid off at kiss and drop and picking them up from after school care. When you do see her, she’s on her phone negotiating a million dollar deal. I have CEO envy.

The Judgmental Bitch

This mum is standing in the playground watching your every move…and then blogging about it ;)