Celebrating what IS

It may take me a while but sometimes I do 'catch myself on'. I reread my last post and realised there was a lesson in it for me. I had a feeling it was there all along and that I'd find it eventually. I bemoaned the fact that one of my close relatives is finding it hard to accept life as it is. That's when it struck me that that is exactly what I need to be doing: seeing life as it is and celebrating everything that I have in my life every day.

I have a wonderful husband who is my best friend, my gentle and honest critic, my support through hard times and the best possible person to accompany me on my journey through life.

I have four amazing children, three daughters and a son, not bad going for someone who never considered herself as being particularly maternal. It just goes to show that parethood is something that can be learnt, and my children have taught me everything I know.

Our eldest daughter is a constant source of pride and hope. She has come through some incredible challenges in her life, not least of which was having a young and inexperienced mother. She has found a way to truly be herself and is now carving out a life for herself studying something she is passionate about and achieving amazing things with her tenacity, wisdom and hard work. She is one of the most compassionate people I know, always there to lend a hand or a shoulder to others in need and whilst we don't live in each other's pockets, she is always willing to listen and talk when things get tough.

Our son is a sensitive, intelligent and caring young man. He has taught himself so much in his eleven years. He taught himself to read at the age of six and ever since he has followed his interests and learnt, and taught others, so much about the things that fire his enthusiasm. He has an amazing way with younger children and I am certain that he will make a fabulous dad one day. He finds it easy, despite his natural reticence, to mix with people of all ages, and his infectious sense of humour is a constant source of joy, and occasional puzzlement.

Our middle daughter is bright, funny, uncompromising and courageous. She wrings every ounce of fun out of any given situation. She is a natural performer, and is unstinting in her desire to try out new things and  push herself to creative heights. Her pride in herself earlier this month when she performed in the local amateur dramatic group's play was a joy to behold. It was not just her own performance which gave her such pleasure, it was her ability to enjoy the entire experience and appreciate how difficult some of the accompanying challenges were, such as getting to the stage on time and being really quiet, often for long periods, when she was not on stage.

Our youngest daughter is cute, feisty, fierce and imaginative. She is loves animals of all kinds and has an instinctive understanding of their needs, and of how much fun they are to be around. She has learnt how to hold her own in a busy family and has found her voice in times when it is difficult to make yourself heard. She views the world as an amazing place, full of things to observe and learn from. Her imagination and rich inner life enable her to create incredible stories with her 'little people' (small toy figures) and the worlds that she creates for them are full of depth and meaning.

Our labrador puppy Charlie is growing well and we are all learning, under his careful tuition, how to be the best pack leaders. Although he is full of mischief and energy he is maturing at an alarming rate and has settled down such a lot in the last few months, or maybe it's that he no longer needs to shout at us in order to show us what to do. His loyalty and steadfastness are amazing to witness. He is so closely attached to us that he will not venture far from us despite the fascinating things going on around him. Now, if he could just temper his youthful, friendly exuberance and greet people with a waggy tale and a huge doggy smile instead of trying to climb up them, that'd be just about perfect.

And so to me. What is my reality? What is the IS where I am concerned? Beware, there will probably be a bit of personal-trumpet-blowing here. Well, I'm learning to trust my instincts a lot more. I'd love to be wise, and I'm working on it. I'm generous, caring, willing to learn from others, from life and from myself. I am fiercely loyal and loving, and willing to hang in there when others have long since given up. I face difficult times and people with trepidation but with fortitude, and always try to give of my best, especially when others don't seem to deserve it. I pride myself on my authenticity and integrity. I try my best not to judge others and to remember that they are on a different journey. I'm not saying I don't have faults, but this is supposed to be a celebration, so my doubts, faults and failings can take a back seat just for now.

I'm intending to take this celebration with me from now on. I caught myself worrying the other day about what we 'should' have been doing during the last month, and it suddenly struck me that life is not what we should be doing but what we are doing. So the 'shoulds' are banished from our life from now on, call it an early New Year's resolution if you like. What matter is what IS.

The wave of the future?

Well, august may well be a wicked month, but november, for me, is a deadly one. For a start I have six close family birthdays between 16th november and 5th december (so don't even mention christmas to me yet!) including my mum, my brother, my husband, our daughter and my grandma. I spent a lot of time planning and carrying out a lovely party for our daughter's eighth birthday which took up a lot of my mental energy. Add to that the shortening days and the unending stress that this year has thrown up and you'll see why some days I feel barely able to function. There have been some positives. I managed to get to see my gp about my low mood and general overloaded feeling, and my husband noticed how rotten I've been feeling and suggested that he looks after the kids for a few days in the new year so that I can get away somewhere quiet and read a lot, and go on a few energising walks. Our Big Girl stepped in and offered to do a house swap, we go to her house in scotland while she and her partner come here and look after the kids for a week.That's really helping to keep my spirits up. Christmas always tends to be more stressful than it needs to be, but I suppose you could say that I'm getting used to that.

Two members of my extended family are causing me problems at the moment with their attitude to life and to other family members. It's funny that I can often see where they're going 'wrong' and think clearly about how they should be looking at things but forget to apply the same lessons to my own life. My biggest criticism of one of them is that he seems unable to see life as it is, and thinks it's ok to want to change it (including changing other people) so that it is how he thinks he wants it to be. I don't agree with him, especially as I'm one of the people who he thinks should change. That may sound a bit unbending of me, but to be honest I've already bent over backwards to be patient, compassionate and understanding towards him and his needs in the past. Now it's time to look after my needs and those if my immediate family. That is the message I'm giving out (and loudly saying inwardly to myself). When it comes to stressmas this year I am going to be brutal in my decision to make sure that my children have the best christmas I can give them, to the exclusion, if necessary, of others. If anyone feels left out then maybe it's time for them to look at their behaviour and understand that it's THEM not me who are the architects of their own misery. The trouble is that I greatly fear they won't and will carry on painting themselves as the victims.

I haven't had much time for blogging, and have been giving only a cursory glance at the groups as it has all been a bit energy-sapping. I've 'found' facebook again (I've always had a bit of an ambivalent atitude to it in the past) and it has been very useful in giving me something else to do online. A friend of mine suggested it as an antidote to all the stress and it has really worked. So now I go online and do silly things with Pets and Farms. It has lifted my spirits no end.

Roller coaster life

Well, I seem to start with this a lot, but it really has been an up and down time, literally. You see last week we went to Flamingo Land. I discovered a few things. 1)Three mums with 7 kids between them can co-exist pretty well in two caravans, as long as you talk about things that are bugging you in a timely and constructive way. 2)My son is happy to be himself and decide whether or not he wants to go on scary rides and not feel the pressure to conform to other people's ideas of what an eleven year old should or shouldn't enjoy. 3)My 7 nearly 8 year old daughter is an adrenaline junkie, and 4) I can 'feel the fear and do it anyway' when it comes to sharing the scary upside down corkscrew rollercoaster and the spinning, whooshing dinner plate that swings up and down like a pirate ship with her.5) My 5 year old daughter has an infectious, squealy laugh when she's on the Frog hopper. 6) All the kids like spending money on those silly waste of money hook a duck/throw the ball on the barrel/knock the tins down games that spew out silly fluffy toys for £2 or £3 a go ('But there's all this other stuff to go on for free and you want to spend money on that?!!). And 7) I can forget about Badman and Balls even if it is only for a few days. There's a long way to go with the whole thing, and I'm still waking up discomfited and gloomy some days, but I think I'm beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. It's very small, and a long way off, but it's there. I'll do my best to keep it glowing.


I've been thinking about what it takes to be happy and feel secure in a place. Because we moved over 300 miles from where we lived before it can seem like we'll never quite fit in. Everything we've done since we moved here has been starting from scratch, or very nearly. That's one of the reasons, I suppose, why the setbacks seem to hit harder than they might have in a place we were already familiar, if bored and miserable, with. At least there I might have had people to fall back on. Our social circle here seems limited because we don't have a history here, or not one we can grasp anyway. We have to make our roots ourselves, which can be difficult when we have a fully-grown tree of a family to support them on. If we expend our energy on bedding in and finding new networks to hook into we run the risk of neglecting the nurturing we should be doing to keep the tree alive, yet if we concentrate on the day to day growth, we risk being too inward-looking which will perpetuate the feeling of isolation. As in all things it's a question of balance, easy to say, hard to do.

It was whilst thinking along these lines, as well as feeling pretty lethargic today after the hullabaloo of the holiday and halloween last night, that I remembered something as I was listlessly surfing the web. About a year ago I came across a blog written by a woman who seemed to be in a similar position to me. She'd moved to Northumberland, to a location I recognised from our house-hunting days. It seemed interesting so I tried it out, but was put off by the whinging tone and the London-centric nature of the posts. I couldn't understand why she would agree to a move that was so important to her husband (who seemed to always be in London himself - go figure) and then spend most of her life moaning about it. She even said that she knew before she moved that she'd hate it. Maybe that's not quite fair. She loved London so much that anything else just wasn't right. I realised she wasn't writing it for people like me who'd done a similar thing - she'd done it for people who lived in London and wanted their decision not to do it justified for them. Fair enough. That's what sells I guess, there's more of them than me. Judging by the reviews on Amazon I'm obviously not alone in my assessment, although I felt like I was, given that Woman's Hour chose to serialise it a while ago. I even toyed with the idea of writing a different perspective kind of blog about my life since I'd got here. It really has been the best move we ever made, all things considered. It just needs a bit of working on, our life here. A bit more outward looking, a bit more embracing of the unknown rather than sticking with what has become familiar. A bit more daring myself to go on the scary roller coaster is what's needed.

Darkest hour?

I'm sitting here feeling very strange. I feel like I should be posting on here, as though someone is looking over my shoulder, in a school-like way, and compelling me to 'finish my work'. It's not as though I have nothing to say, it's just that none of it is very positive. Why on earth would anyone want to read about how cr*p last week was for me?
In both my personal and home ed lives (which are linked of course) I've had a horrible time, probably the worst week to date on our home ed journey ,losing sleep, arguing with people in my head, getting upset, barely functioning some days, which adds to the amount of beating myself up that is an inevitable consequence of all the above.
I'm hoping that once I've got a bit further away from the personal and home ed problems I might be able to look back with a little more understanding and clarity. For now it just all seems really bleak. So bleak that I even wondered whether it wouldn't be easier all round if I just accepted defeat and put the kids in school. I wonder if it's just me or whether others out there are feeling similarly burnt out and hopeless. According to Daddy Bear it's called battle fatigue. He said this whilst gently wiping my despairing tears away.
There have been positives in the form of lovely chats with caring and compassionate friends, who have been really supportive on my blackest days, and the bolstering of my fragile confidence by the continually amazing efforts of 'proper' bloggers, (ones with important stuff to say) and fighters for our home ed freedom.
I just hope that this is a case of the darkest hour being just before the dawn. I'll keep you posted on that one. 

Secondary wobbles

Well, it's been a funny old time,as usual, round here with lots of thinking and soul-searching going on. I knew already that I'd be wobbly, as I always am in September, but I wasn't prepared for the extra wobble of having a child who would have been going to secondary school. For some reason this made me more wobbly than ever as I started to question whether he'd be able to do this or that if he were in school, and whether he'd have more confidence in this area or that one, and whether doing what he has been doing since birth, ie learning mostly on his own and choosing what to do for himself day after day, is still the best thing for him. I mean going to secondary school is such a massive change in a child's life, and maybe what has been fine up till now won't be good enough any more and I should maybe stop kidding myself that I can provide all he needs. It also seems that the length of time until he is independent and will have to go out in the world and fend for himself has telescoped into such a short time frame that he won't possibly be able to do and learn all the things that he needs to, especially as we're coming up to the teen years where I won't be able to get him to do anything at all. That leaves us with, what, two weeks or so to cram everything in and fill his brain with 'what he needs'. It's ok I'll go and have a lie down soon then everything will be all right again and I'll realise that he already has all he needs. He has a love of reading, a willingness to learn, an ability to be totally self-leading with his learning, and a capacity to pick things up very quickly once he sets his mind to it. He also has two parents who will do all in their power to make sure that he has all he needs to complete (or not!) whatever task he sets himself. We are also building up an amazing community of people around us who we can call on for help and guidance, from the lovely local librarian, to other home ed parents, to people we know who are passionate about what they do, be it the arts,working with wildlife, or just living their lives on their own terms.

I appreciate that what I am about to say could be interpreted as being rather negative, but I have to say that I am also aware of all the things, to do with school, that he doesn't have and hopefully never will. He doesn't have some other person or body making important decisions for him and then making him follow their made up-rules about how to go about this, whether in academic terms or just in daily life. He doesn't have the experience of being belittled or hurt, physically or emotionally, on a daily basis by adults and children alike. He doesn't have the stomach-churning dread of going to the place that does this to him every single day. He doesn't have his individuality intentionally squashed and moulded into a more acceptable form by someone who has no idea who he is, and no willingness to find out. He doesn't have relentless 'busy work' to do with no time to sit, think, reflect, do nothing, get bored, find things out for himself.

I hoped that writing all this down would help me to see it from a different angle and it has. It can be hard to explain to people who are at a different stage in their journey from the one I am at. It can be easy to have your energy sucked out of you by negativity and narrow thinking. It is hard to explain to someone who believes that there is nothing wrong, and everything right, with the way schools do it, or even that it is just inevitable and is something to put up with and get through. I don't ever want my children's childhood to be like that. I am arrogant enough to feel that I have reclaimed their childhood for them and given it to them, to choose to do with it what they will.

Shaking off the shackles

It has become painfully obvious to me recently that the computer can be a force for disquiet as well as for good. I made a conscious decision this week to take a step back from some of the activities I take part in online and I was very pleased to note that I'm feeling a lot less anxious and worried, perhaps as a result of this decision, perhaps not. I have tended to get sucked into less than constructive discussions, whether as a contributor or just a spectator. All of this takes me away from 'real life' and something which should be a source of support and comfort actually adds to the feelings of impotence which have been plaguing me. As I've said before it is a case of balancing my need to keep myself informed, and looking after my emotional well-being. I've come down on the side of backing off from things in cyberspace which are sapping my energy and drawing me away from the things which are truly sustaining and which have suffered as a result of me becoming a bit obsessed with things I can do nothing to influence. I am truly grateful to those people who are working tirelessly to ensure our freedom to home educate and I will continue to support them in whatever way I can, but there comes a time when I have to admit to myself that there is only so much I can do in that regard. I have forced myself to keep away from my computer and to turn to those things in my life which are really sustaining, such as my relationship with members of my family. Worrying about how and whether I can add anything meaningful to certain online discussions has sapped my strength, and at times I have felt myself being involuntarily pulled into the screen and away from my family. I could feel it happening and felt powerless to stop it. It's utterly mesmerising at times, but I've managed to break the grip of  this cyber-hoover.

The other thing I've notivced this week is that just when I get to the point in life where I feel I'm getting somewhere in terms of ceating order out of the chaos that surrounds me, somehting happens to throw a spanner in the works. On the same day that I made a list of the things I need to get done around the house in order to feel that I was at a stage where I could  look confidently toward the future, I managed to damage my shoulder and was unable to complete my allotted tasks. At other times I've come down with something or things happen to stop me getting to where I feel I need to be. It's frustrating, but maybe it's worth examining this in more depth to see whether this enforced change of direction actually does me any good in the long run. I can't see it at the moment as I was so looking forward to clearing the decks and starting to see the shape of the house underneath, but then again I had two experiences that helped me to mentally map out an avenue that had become blocked in my mind. I read the mathematician's lament, an article which explores the unhelpful way in which maths is taught in schools and then I had a very enlightening conversation with another home educator whose husband is a mathematician, which very much echoed the sentiments in the article. These things helped me to realise that there can be another response to the worrying feelings of not doing enough or not doing it right. There is always a way to think laterally about an issue and to find another way through, and the way I think I should do it can be replaced by the way I feel I can do it. I hope that makes sense. At the moment I feel as though I have found a map, but I'm not at the point yet where I can see the actual landscape. However I have found a renewed faith in myself and my way of finding solutions to problems.

Healthy Kids - revisited and assimilated

I've been wondering how to bring all my random scribblings together in one place, so I thought I'd start with this one as it seemjed a) the easiest one to start with and b) still relevant to our lives. It was a blog I called 'Healthy Kids' and I managed one whole post! This is what I wrote originally:

I've been thinking about starting this blog for a while now. My main motivation is the fact that we all, as a family, seem to have been getting really out of shape over the last year or so and I wanted to try and find a way to encourage some changes without making any of my children feel self-conscious. There are issues around eating disorders in our family in the past so I want to be as sensitive as possible to the needs of every member of the family, and anyone else who reads this blog. I guess what I'm saying is that this is most emphatically NOT a diet blog or a 'fat camp' blog. What it is about is making changes slowly and steadily so that we can all start to embrace a new way of being.

Our eating patterns as a family have been getting healthier and healthier over the years, but there is definitely room for improvement, especially as regards encouraging the kids to eat more fruit and veg. We have few additives in our diet and sweets and crisps are kept to occasional treats, but we still all crave the 'nasties'.

As for exercise, it feels like we used to be more active as a family than we are now. We used to live in a town until the kids were 7, 4 and 16 months and we'd be out on foot or on bikes or scooters most days, walking the dog along the beach or down the cycle path. If we needed any shopping we'd walk into town and back and it was just a part of our life to fit exercise into our day. I think it helped that none of us thought of it as 'exercise' it was just part of life, and fun.

Since we moved to the countryside I've found it quite difficult to fit the same kind of exercise into our days. The road to the nearest village is too dangerous to walk the kids along and the only circular walk from our house is at least two and a half hours long, which is great once in a while, but kids really need achieveable, short-burst activities. We now have a bigger garden than we've ever had (we moved from a terraced house with a concrete courtyard) and the kids have a climbing frame and a trampoline, but they seem almost phobic about going outside. I'd have put it down to the change of scenery but we've been here three years now, you'd think that would be long enough for them to adjust.

So what I'm hoping for from this blog is to find new ways of looking at our diet and exercise and help the kids, and us, stay as healthy as possible. If you'd like to share the journey with us, please do. You're very welcome.

It's really interesting to read what I wrote then and to have a go at an update. Well, it felt like things didn't really improve as regards exercise, but looking back I remember a few cycle rides and walks and swimming, so I guess we didn't do all that bad. Also the road into the village has been improved and a fantastic footpath has been added. And we've doggedly continued strewing fruit and veg in front of the children in the hope that they'll give in and try it. One of the kids will eat almost whatever is put in front of her, but the other two are still a bit resistant, one of them, I feel, on principle. Just as they look with disdain on anything overtly educational, so too the idea of healthy food is met with high-minded refusal.

I'm hoping that the addition of a dog into the brew is going to produce results. The great thing is that puppies are not suppose to be over-exercised: five minutes of walking per  month of their age, thus 15 minuts at 3 months. So I'm hoping that the kids will barely notice as the amount of walking increases, as they'll be too busy running after Charlie. Sneaky eh? And as is the way with these things, after a while I'm hoping that the endorphins will start to kick in and they'll find they no longer mind or even notice the distance. When we first got Merlin I realised that I really missed walking if I wasn't able to get out some days. It had become its own virtuous circle. I like stuff like that, that grows organically as it were:-)

Reclaiming our life

I can't believe that it's not actually that long since I posted last, it feels like such a lot has been happening . That coupled with the fact that I know how rubbish I am at posting. I've toyed with the idea of setting up another blog for brief posts, that way I might be able to blog a bit more often. Maybe limit myself to one minute of writing. I'd still keep this one on for longer cogitating.

Well, some exciting stuff has been going on here. I arrived home from camp to find a message in my inbox that a friend had sent about there being one male labrador puppy left out of a litter in a town not too far from us. We'd planned on leaving getting another dog till late september at the earliest, but this message got me thinking. I pondered for a couple of days and then rang the number only to find that the puppy had already been taken, but  by then the 'damage' had been done and I realised that I was actually aching to have a puppy. I put it at the back of my mind and set to on tidying the pantry, throwing away all the out of date stuff including the medicines. I came across some of Merlin's very expensive tablets and Daddy Bear rang the vet to see if we could get any money back on them. While he was on the phone the receptionist happened to mention a litter of labrador puppies even nearer to us. We discussd it for a while, then I rang about them. The owners seemed really keen for us to come and have a look at the pups, which we arranged to do that evening. When we got there the puppies were let out into the garden and it suddenly seemed as though there was a carpet of labradors. You could barely put your foot down without treading on a wriggling, tail-wagging, squirming little bundle of fluff and fun. We thought it would be really difficult to choose one, but in the end he chose us. There were four yellow ones and four black ones. As our Big Girl had sadly lost a yellow lab at the tragically early age of fifteen weeks, we knew we couldn't have a yellow one, so they were put back in their kennel, along with the black bitch and the black dog, wo were already taken. That left two black males, one of whom ignored us completely while the other one chased the girls around the garden and then came and stood in between my legs. Job done. We arranged to pick him up at the weekend after we'd bought him a bed and some food and a toy and all the other necessaries. The journey home from meeting him for the first time was a bit dewy-eyed for me. I just knew this wa sthe right thing. We're a dog family who'd been temporarily dogless and now the natural order was being restored. Taking him home from the breeders on the sunday was a traumatic event for the puppy (who was named Charlie on the journey). First he did a wee down my front, then he threw up all over his brand new bed, which was on my lap. We'd been throwing various names around for a few days, none of which we could agree on. Besides we figured we needed to get to know him for a while before we chose a name that really fitted. And Charlie really does fit, as he's a proper charlie, full of mischief and silliness. Despite the tiredness and the puddles and piles, he's brought smiles and hope back to our family. We can think of our life with him and it seems to make the future more tangible somehow, maybe it's because we know he'll grow so quickly, whereas the kids growth will take a relatively longer time. I hope that makes sense. The merlin-shaped hole in our lives will never be filled and never could be, but Charlie will make his own palce in our family, which will be a different shape.

Having Charlie in the family, amongst other things that have been going on, has made me think about what's not 'right' in our lives. This year has been such a trauma for home educators. I was thinking about it this morning. For a week or so at the very beginning of the year we were all in blissful ignorance of what was to come then suddenly the review was announced, and nothing has been the same since. At first I remember feeling shocked and worried and then more optimistic and feeling that maybe it wouldn't be so terrible and that maybe the bad man would see that home ed doesn't need fixing or tinkering with. Then the feeling of dread descended as it became clear that the bad man had no real intention of engaging with anyone and had already decided what was to happen even before the review was concluded. This, along with another bizarre twist in the proceedings, left me feeling baffled,anxious and scared, so that when the report came out I was dismayed and angry but not entirely surprised. What surprised me was the scale and scope of the recommendations. Since then I've been through various emotions and felt tied to the computer, in case I miss a vital piece of info or call to action. It has taken me away from my family, at least mentally and emotionally, and although I can see and hear me shutting myself away in cyberspace and blogworld I can't seem to stop. The kids are pretty good at amusing themselves but that's not the point. I don't like what 's happening and what has been happening to me. I even find myself wasting valuable  energy, not to mention real time, getting mentally and emotionally drawn in to the arguments about and between organisations, and fighting the shadow of one deliberately provocative blogger. I need to work out what's really important to me, and Charlie has been a way of trying to reclaim my sanity and my family. Although the review recommendations are trundling towards us like a steamroller,and I fear that nothing will stop them, I have to find a way to thwart the feeling of hopelessness at least on a personal level. One way to do that is to determinedly live, really live, our lives. Apart from replying to the consultation, which I'm not going to do until I have at least an inkling of what the select committee is going to do and say, I've done what I can.I wrote to my mp and got a very positive response along with another signature for the best of the early day mothions. I'd like to try and get a submission for the select committee together but haven't the first clue where to start. Besides, it's getting too late to organise anything,and I admit I'm relying on other people more erudite than me submitting something far morre eloquent and useful than I ever could.

I don't want t throw the baby out with the bath water and give up cyber space altogether. The solidarity and support it gives me are invaluable and actually essential to my daily life as a Hedder, but I have to try and strike a balance. Maybe set myself a time limit, or a particular time of day. I'll really struggle with that though as I really like to be free to be spontaneous and choose what and when and how long I do things for,it's what I want for the children so why not for me too?

I could try a complete break, but just as I can't read a book and skip parts, I feel that, if I miss something that was said on a group while I was away, I have to go back and make sure I've read everything, or at least not missed anything. And as everyting is hotting up with deadlines looming large out of the mist, is now really the time to take a back seat? But then again, how much difference can I actually make to all of this. Maybe my energy would be better spent on planning my civil disobedience if/when the recommendations come in. But that could take many months. I can't stand this feeling of being controlled by outside events for all that time, I would have effectively spent more than a year being tied to this process, which makes me really angry. How DARE they waste my time like this?!

I haven't come to any conclusions. Maybe some of you out there have managed to find a balance?

camping it up

This summer we have mostly been...camping. Or that's how it feels anyway. We had tried camping in groups in the past with varying degrees of success and enjoyment and I think I'd decided that it just wasn't for us. I did however envy those who enjoyed it and were able to 'up and off' on a cheap getaway, so when the opportunity, and support, came up this summer I decided to give it another try. We were lent a tent and a helping hand for our first try, which lasted 3 nights. It chucked it down, and there were a couple of dramas with other campers, but we were snug and felt very comfortable with friends who held my hand when I got a bit wobbly. It buoyed me up enough to try it again, this time for 5 nights, in Scotland to visit my Big Girl. She had friends to stay at her little place so offered us her tent. We found a nearby campsite and away we went. Again I had a lot of help putting the tent up and I knew the area quite well so we had plenty to do while we were there. The weather wasn't brilliant, but we were warm enough and again we survived to give it another go. By our third trip, after a one night mini camp in the garden with our friend with the tent we've just bought, I was feeling a lot more confident and, if I remember, I think I was actually excited to be setting off to do it all on our own this time. I managed to put the tent up, and get it down again at the end of our trip, with help from the kids. I even managed to pack, unload and load up the roof box on my own, at my height no mean feat.

So I think we can safely say that we've well and truly embarked on this camping journey, but I'm still not certain that I actually 'get' this camping lark. I've been thinking about all the different campers we've met and there seems to be a continuum of types of campers. There are non-campers, then there are reluctant campers, virgin campers, interemediate campers,seasoned campers and finally, the nirvana of camping, happy campers. Maybe I won't really appreciate the whole experience till I'm out of virgin territory. There were things I  really enjoyed and which gave me a warm glow inside, such as making and breaking camp all by myself, and setting up my little kitchen (windbreak, low table, stove, washing up bowl, kettle) and watching the kids going off and exploring and being outside a lot of the time. Equally there were things I could have done without such as squabbling rooks and seagulls fighting over scraps of food right outside my tent at stupid o'clock in the morning, little Hitlers who think they can make up their own rules about what others on the campsite can do and tipping down rain. There are also things I'm not sure I'll find a way round such as going to bed freezing cold and waking up too hot. Sharing a bed with a 5 year old octopus didn't help with that one as she'd get too hot and throw the covers off which left me scrabbling to pull them back over me before I turned to ice. Many's the night that I had the covers pulled right over my head, and even sticking just my nose out lowered my body temperature by way too many degrees. Then there's the uncertainty of whether you're going to wake up in the middle of the night needing to go. And if you do need to you lie there debating with yourself whether to try and make it till morning until you're so awake you might as well get up and go anyway. There's also the problem that the kids won't sleep till it's properly pitch dark and then get woken up with the sun. The resulting sleep deprivation for all was tough to deal with. I really don't have a handle yet on the food aspect either. I decided that I wasn't even going to try and cook, so we'd have one meal out per day and have cereal and sarnies the rest of the time, which doesn't make for a very balanced diet, but something has to give. Camping isn't supposed to be torture (I'm presuming). 

I'm sure that I'll get more discerning as we go along as regards choosing which camps to join in with, how to choose a good campsite, how to choose a good pitch when we get there and how to field the little triumphs and crises that come our way. I'm still prepared to give it a try and see how we go.

gaining perspective, I hope

A few days ago Daddy Bear and I were chatting about life in general and a project of his that was coming up that he was really excited about. I said how great it was that he could be doing something he really enjoyed. He agreed and said he wished I could find something I really loved too. Then he said 'You used to really enjoy being a mum'. I was suddenly struck to the core. He didn't mean it in a nasty way, far from it, but I suddenly realised that he was right. I did really enjoy being a mum, but recently it's just felt like a hard slog. It's not the kids themselves, although they can be hard work at times. It's the stress of this whole situation and the fact that I can't see an end to it. I'm stressed out and the kids seemed to pick up on that. And they seem really stressed too at times. Then I start blaming myself, because it's obviously my fault, or that's how it seems. If I was a better mum I'd be able to keep them happy. This endless guilt-feeling then pervades everything and I start to feel that I'm not doing anything 'right'. It's at times like this that attitudes such as those in the Badman report really start to get to me, and I wonder what on earth I'm doing, home educating three kids. I mean if I'm not teaching them stuff how can they possibly be getting a 'suitable education'? Little things become huge and loom over me like giant shadows. And everything becomes my problem to solve. It's a paralysing feeling.

I'm so angry and worried and stressed that the only way to deal with it seems to be to plug myself almost permanently in to the computer so that I can keep myself up to date with what's happening. The trouble is it doesn't seem to be helping. It only adds to my feelings of impotence, and takes me away from the kinds of things I 'ought' to be doing to keep myself sane. I'm sure the kids are sick of seeing the back of my head and hearing my non-commital mumblings. I'm not eating well, and I know that I should be in order to keep myself on an even keel. It's just one more chore though. Eating properly is hard work.

I'll be taking the kids to Scotland camping at the end of the week. We'll be borrowing my Big Girl's tent and camping in the grounds of a castle. There'll be trips to the beach and visits to interesting places and a chance to really connect with the children again without all the usual distractions. There may also be  freezing, shivery sleeping-bagged nights and the threat of another dose of d and v, but I'm on the case and will do all I can to make it pleasant and healthy. I learnt a lot from the last camp we went on. It'll be just a few days and nights but I really hope it might give me a little perspective on this whole distressing time.

A couple of years ago I stopped watching or listening to any news on the tv or radio because I felt that, as it was mostly bad news, it was distressing to listen to and there was nothing I could do about any of the news I listened to so it was ultimately a pointless exercise. What was the point in keeping myself informed about things I was powerless to influence? The difference with this situation is that I am involved, whether I like it or not, and I can't choose to ignore it because it won't ignore me or my family. It's hard to know whether I've done all I can do, which is one of the only ways for me to deal with it. If I get to the end of it and feel I could have influenced the outcome differently if I'd done this or that, I'll feel like I've failed my family, so I'm tring to pre -empt all that by second-guessing what this or that could be,and making sure I've done it. I know none of this is personal, but it feels like it is. It's my family it'll be affecting. It's my children's home that'll be invaded by strangers. It's our whole way of life that's under threat and that can be taken away from us on a whim.

Here's hoping I come back feeling refreshed and renewed.

Let's go round again

I have become so sick of waking in the morning feeling angry and upset, so I spent some time yesterday listing in my head all the adjectives I could think of to describe how I am feeling. I was going to note them all here this morning to try and exorcise the helplessness that overcomes me. Strangely enough though, when I woke up this morning another idea suggested itself and I entertained myself for a while seeing how it developed in my head. This is the result: 

Ok now. Are those straps nice and comfy? The ones round your wrist? And your ankles? Not too tight? Good. How about the one round your waist? Well, we wouldn't want you sliding off, now would we?. Mind you centrifugal force will probably hold you on once we get going. Hark at me using big words like centrifugal. Must have learnt something in school after all, eh? A gag? Whatever gave you that idea? We wouldn't be able to talk about how it's going would we? No, I think that one's a non-starter. Oh, now you're just being silly. How would I be able to see what I'm doing if I've got a blindfold on? Well, it may be how all the best ones do it, but they've had years of practice. I'm sure they all had to start somewhere.

Sorry what was that? This sharpener's awfully loud when it gets going isn't it? My desired/ planned outcomes? Well, I guess that would be for the knives to hit the board. Somewhere. Eventually. Ouch! Yes they're ready. Now I wonder whether I should take the systematic, step-by-step approach or just hurl myself into it. Ah well, never one to do things the conventional way. Let's just do it, eh? Sorry, what was that? You thought we were going to agree on a twelve month plan? I hardly think that's necessary, this isn't going to last that long, more's the pity... Anyway, enough of this nattering, we're not getting any learning done just talking about it are we? So, here we go, I just push this bit of the table and: Round and round and round he goes, where he stops nobody knows. It's making me dizzy just looking at you, maybe a blindfold would have been a better idea. No matter. I'll just focus on the middle distance. Now, slowly back... and...throw! How was that one? Did it hit anywhere? Erk, yes I can see that. Better luck next time,eh? Yes, I'm sure there's a first-aider around here somewhere. Still we'll leave that for later. Wouldn't want to interrupt the flow. How on earth would I learn if I was flitting from one thing to another all the time? No, sorry, you''re just going to have to sit tight and let me get on with it. Let's try another one. There! Much better. Very nearly hit the wood that time, if only your arm hadn't got in the way like that.  

 Well, I suppose I could have taken lessons in it from an expert, but I find that when you've mastered something by your own efforts it's more, well, satisfying, don't you think? Look I'm half way there, I reckon. Could you be quiet for a minute, do you think, and let me concentrate? Got to get in the zone. Whoosh! Don't they make a lovely noise whizzing through the air? Oh, what are you complaining about now!? I only nicked a bit of skin that time. Pretty good throw I thought, right in the middle of the board. Bull's eye, I'd say. Sorry? It's pinned your what? Odd, didn't think you had any of those. Oh well, you live and learn.

You're slowing down a bit. I'll just give it another push. Oh that's much better. I can hardly see you. You're just a blur. Funny how the colours all meld into each other like that. You've gone all grey. No your clothes, I mean. Ok, hold onto your hat. No I know you're not wearing a hat. Have you never heard of a figure of speech? You're a what? Oh I see, your background is in science not english. You ought to know all about basing conclusions on evidence then. Let's give you some more shall we? How about that one? And that one? and that one? Well, I thought that was the whole idea. You do something repetitively and you automatically improve. Well, now, that's not very supportive, is it? I've only tried six of them.

You're really going to have to stop screaming. How do you expect me to focus with that racket going on? It's really quite hypnotic watching you go round and round and round and round. Huh? You're ... sounding...very ... faint... Oh yes. Sorry, I was miles away. Well, how on earth would I be able to hit you, er, the board if I really was. You don't seem to have grasped even the basic mechanics of this. Let's try one last one, shall we? Call it my valedictory. It's a  term Americans use. Never heard of it? Oh well, we've both learnt something then. Let's make this one a good one. And... whack! Oh yes, definitely the best so far. I can see you're quite speechless. No, didn't catch that. Say again. Through the what? Oh well, that'd explain it then. No wonder I can't make out what you're saying. Nope, still sounds like gobbledigook to me. I'm going to have to pull that one out. Oh, don't be such a baby. A little bit of pain never hurt anyone. Now, now, the bell's for me, not you. Actually it's my ringer timer. The kids have been doing some baking while we've been learning this new skill.

You'll have to speak a bit slower. Well, it's all swollen for a start. I can barely understand one word in three. Try again. Measuring my progress against my plans?  I guess that would be counting the number of knives that hit the board and stayed in. Well, that's all of them then. Oh except the one that bounced off your head. Must have been due to the thickness of your parietal bone. That's biology. Well, anatomy actually.  Sorry? I don't see how that's an accurate gauge. I mean what's the amount of blood got to do with anything? I'd say that was more of an unintended outcome. Still, I reckon I score quite highly on that too. What do you think? Hello? Are you still there?Well, now. That's not very professional, is it? The least he could do was stay awake. It really is impossible to find someone with the necessary qualities these days.

I dreamed a dream...

The stress I've been feeling about the badman review has been causing me a few sleep problems. I wake very early, suddenly wide awake with sleep a million miles away, but with my eyes feeling gritty and sore. There follows a sickening thudding of the heart as I realise what has woken me so rudely, again. Every morning is like groundhog day. An endless stream of worry, anger, disbelief, helplesness, and despair with no sign of relief in sight. Usually I manage to get back to sleep, but when that happens I wake up later than I'd like and less alert than at stupid o'clock in the morning.

The time between the two unhappy awakenings is often filled with weird and vivid dreams, two of which have stayed with me recently. In the first dream I discovered I was pregnant. The only reason I knew this was that I was in labour. No one seemed willing to either believe me or to help. So I was having to deal with my own shock at the unexpected state of affairs and others' callous disregard for my pain. I used to be very interested in the meaning of dreams and would have interepreted this one to mean that I have a new project, which has been forced upon me and which came out of nowhere. Those whom I should have been able to rely on for help were actively making things worse. Or maybe I just had a bad stomach ache in my sleep and this dream was a manifestation of that.

The second dream appears to need no interpretation. I was at a party where the guest of honour was the badman. He asked people to tell him what they thought of the review, so I joined the queue and when it was my turn I tried to explain to him exactly how destructive and disrespectful the recommendations were to me and my family, but he appeared not to be listening, constantly turning to the more entertaining people around him. I ended up shouting at him in an effort to be heard, but although he had his ear turned towards me it was clear that he wasn't hearing.

However depressing the situation is I'm determined not to be brought low by it all. I have to find the confidence in myself and in what we do as a family to stand up and draw my own line in the sand. Writing this I am suddenly reminded of my eldest daughter's first day at school. I am thinking more specifically of my sad, ponderous walk home on my own after having dropped her off. I felt that I had left her entirely in the company of strangers, who had no idea of, or respect for, my views and values and who would do their best to overwrite these with their own. I remember feeling completely helpless then, as helpless as I often feel now. The difference now is that I know that there is an alternative, one that works not just for me and my family but for countless families all over the world. It can't be shoved aside no matter how often one person 'believes' it can. It is worth fighting for. I will never, ever walk that walk again.

Badman report on the review into home education

For the last ten years our children have been growing, playing and learning without interference from outside agencies, yet if the author of this report has his way, after the 19th October we will be acting illegally. Will we have suddenly started to abuse our children? Or neglect them? No. We will be acting illegally because we choose to autonomously home educate our children. One of the recommendations of this report is that "At the time of registration parents/carers/guardians must provide a clear statement of their educational approach, intent and desired/planned outcomes for the child over the following twelve months." Anyone who knows anything about autonomous education, and from this report it is clear that Mr Badman neither understands nor wants to learn about it, knows that this recomendation is a nonsense. I can no longer say what my desired/ planned outcomes of my children's education over a year would be than I would be able to accurately predict the weather. In fact predicting the weather would be a darned sight easier. My children learn what they learn when they learn it. End of.

 People are often incredulous when I try to explain it to them, my own family included. It is hard to let go of the belief that in order to learn something children must be taught. However over the last ten years I have had it proved to me by my children that this is not necessarily the case. My ten year old son taught himself to read at the age of six with no more input from me than reading books to him. My seven year old daughter is teaching herself to read in a totally different way, which works very well for her. I began to worry about my son learning to spell as he is a reluctant writer, yet when I asked him to write about his dreams, as he is always telling us about them, he typed a fairly lengthy piece on the computer which was word (and punctuation) perfect except for one word - tortoise. He really didn't need to be discretely taught to spell. He reads so much for pleasure that spelling comes with it as easily as crawling, walking and running did when he was younger.

These desired/ planned outcomes will have to be agreed by a LA official. This seems odious to me as I will no longer be responsible for  my children's education. Someone else will. If I try to circumvent this directive by stating the very minimum I expect my children to achieve I can easily imagine that the official will say it won't be enough. My only hope is that the official assigned to me and my family will be sympathetic to AE. It seems unfair though that I have to cling to the vague hope that this one person will understand our approach.  

To say I am dismayed by all this would be to understate my feelings hugely. I am devastated. The pain I am feeling at the thought of the loss of our way of life is akin to being told that a dearly loved relative has a terminal illness. I am losing sleep over it. My waking moments are filled with fear and panic. I hate feeling like this.

Merlin's last walk

Today we took Merlin for his last walk up the fell. Daddy Bear went to the vet to collect his ashes while I cooked us brunch, then we got the kids kitted out in 'getting muddy gear' and suitable footwear and we set off up the fell behind our house. It's part of the Pennine Way and we met a few hardy souls on the way up. The first part of the walk, the slog uphill, was accompanied by obligatory moaning and whingeing from the kids. We had to cajole and nearly bully them to press on past the sheep and cows (cows always freak me a bit when I've got the kids with me, especially if they have calves at foot as they do at this time of year). The livestock were very well-behaved though, and we managed the stiles and muddy, boggy bits with a minimum of fuss and made it to the top. It was breezy but warm on top of the fell, and the views as always were stunning. We stopped for a well-earned drink and some Hobnobs, and after that it was a lot easier to keep them going. We met a couple of guys with their lovely brown and white Border Collie and big sister told them all about what we were doing and pointed to Daddy Bear's backpack which contained Merlin's ashes. They were very sympathetic and I could see them sneaking glances at their own lovely pooch. I just know that they'll make the most of their dog while they have him.

As soon as our house came in sight we took the ashes out and checked the way the wind was blowing. As luck would have it the wind would carry Merlin down the fell in the direction of our house. Each of the kids had a handful or two, held it carefully then they let the ashes go as though they were setting a bird free. It really was a magical moment, and we said a silent 'Goodbye'. We saved some of the ashes for later in the walk and set off downhill to a little farm shop where the kids were rewarded with some melting moments biscuits. It was far from a sombre occasion, with plenty of laughter and horseplay, chatting to some piglets on the way. We headed for the bridge near the village and again the kids each had a handful to throw off the bridge. It didn't go quite so smoothly this time as there must have been an updraft from the river and the cars going past. Daddy Bear sprinkled Merlin over the edge and inevitably some of the ash came up to get us in the eye. Just Merlin's little joke. We laughed heartily and sent him on his way downstream. So now he'll always be there when we cross the bridge and walk along the river, and on top of the fell. And we saved some to bury in the garden so he'll always be here too. 

 I sometimes catch sight of him out of the corner of my eye while I'm busy around the house, and if I walk into a room I expect to see him lying there waiting for me, lifting his head to greet me. I find my memories of him outside are usually of his back end trotting off in front, as that was his favourite way. Following from the front, as I put it. When I popped into town I saw a familiar back end, another leggy, lean black Labrador. I thought it would make me sad to see another Labrador, but it doesn't. It's not Merlin. I don't begrudge anyone their lovely dogs. I just hope they'll always treasure them, as we did ours.

Merlin 1995-2009

Yesterday we lost a member of our family. He has shared and enriched our lives for the last thirteen and a half years. He brought love and laughter to all of us, and brightened our days with his calm and loving nature. He protected me throughout my pregnancies, often putting himself in between me and anyone who he considered might be a threat to me, despite being more firmly attached to Daddy Bear (well, *he* was the one who threw the ball for him), he welcomed all our babies to the family and helped them to grow, and was a constant source of support and companionship. Even in his last days he seemed to think more of us than of himself, which made our final heart-rending act of love so much easier to bear.

A year ago he suddenly found himself unable to do the things he loved. He couldn't even get out of our car to go on a walk with us. We discovered he'd been in pain for some time, but he'd carried on stoically, trying to do what he thought we wanted him to. His vertebrae had been slowly fusing, causing him immense pain. He was put on medication, which helped, but as his spine stiffened and his pain eased he was reduced to following us around the house and garden and occasionally going for short walks with us, but his discomfort was obvious. After all those years of looking after us, now it was our turn to look after him. He'd always hated being alone in the house, but now he was clearly telling us that he really didn't mind spending an afternoon on the sofa while we took the children out. He'd always welcome us home with a smile and a weary wag of his tail.

He'd been coping with his lot up until a couple of weeks ago, when his back legs began to falter. Due to muscle and nerve wastage his legs could no longer support him. In his customary way, he tried to carry on as he had always done, cheerfully, calmly, always eager to please. The vet suggested acupuncture, which we tried in the hope that it would give him some relief. He submitted to it in his trusting and unquestioning way, sensing, I hope, that we were trying to help. It was all too much for him though and after we'd made the agonising decision to have him put to sleep and booked an appointment at the vet for two days hence, he deteriorated so quickly. I honestly believe that if it had been within his power to take the decision out of our hands and slip away quietly in his sleep he would have done it. He was that kind of dog.

Two days ago he managed to walk almost all the way round our house without collapsing, and we spent a lovely evening indulging his newly-discovered liking for mature Gouda. He sat on the sofa between us and treated us to a few precious hours of happiness with him. In the morning he could barely lift his head, and couldn't even make it to the back door. He had to be helped outside for a wee and then carried indoors. He was telling us as clearly as he could that he'd had enough. As I said my last good bye to him before taking the children out so that Daddy Bear could take him to the vet, I kissed his head and his greying muzzle and told him how much we loved him and thanked him for being the best friend any family could have. He lifted his head and planted a wet smacker of a 'licky kiss' right on my face. A perfect gentleman right to the last.

I haven't been able to cry yet. I'm hoping the healing tears will come. I've been carrying on, supporting Daddy Bear and the kids through their grief. Strangely it hasn't felt like a huge effort on my part. I have been doing what I felt was my job. It helped me to get through it all knowing I was helping my family through the last difficult days. I will never forget my strong, beautiful, calm, wise, caring Merlin. He's going to be such a tough act to follow, and I will always be grateful to him for showing my children the meaning of selfless love. When we get his ashes we're going to take him to the top of the fell behind our house and let him fly free.

Look how far we've come

I've been thinking back to the early days of home ed and it struck me how totally different things are for me now, and probably others. I didn't realise it at the time but we began as soon as Big Brother was born, sixteen years after our Big Girl. We made the decision proper when he was about 3. Our first contact with other home edders in our area was through the eo contact list and newsletter. I found out about who else was 'doing it' in our area by checking out the listings for our county and seeing who was nearest. And didn't they all sound exotic? I remember thinking 'Ooh, I wonder what they're like and whether we'll ever meet them.' We found out about the local group that met once a fortnight, went along, liked it and kept going. Outings were decided on and arranged at the meeting and if things changed we used an old-fashioned thing called the telephone. If we wanted to meet up outside the group again the phone was used. Some people even had little tiny ones that they didn't have to talk into, they could type little messages and send them to others who had a similar device. ( My Big Girl finally dragged me into the 21st century by flinging her old one pityingly at me.'Here Mum, have this. It'll come in handy'. I rebelled, partly out of Luddism, but mostly because of the cost, but succumbed, at least to pay as you go). I gradually became aware of an even more exotic way of keeping in touch which involved odd squiggles and symbols. You had to choose a 'handle' as we used to call it in the days of cb, and then add a bit to it, which meant that you could then send messages to others who had also undergone this strange ritual (mostly my up to the minute friends who were still working). I remember being pretty Luddite about that too.And proudly so. I could access information on the interweb, but I know I didn't really 'get' how a lot of that was done (elves maybe? holding up cards to the screen like Dylan did). I don't remember exactly when I discovered email groups. I think my first was the eo list. Those funny email thingies came in thick and fast. Too fast for my poor brain. I got moaned at a lot for filling up the inbox with 'rubbish'. Then slowly but surely I learnt to handle it a bit better, found out how to read messages on group websites and then I was truly up to speed. Now I have so many groups I have to cull them on a regular basis. Looking back I honestly don't know how I managed without them.Or that's the way it feels. They are such a huge part of my life now. I have a group for every possible need. It takes all my time keeping up with what's going on with all of them. Then I discovered that I could check up on what my friends were doing in their everyday lives. It started off with people I actually knew, but soon I could peek into total strangers' lives and even pass comment on their doings. I now had cyber friends. Finally I actually managed to make my own online journal. Mine isn't as good as I'd like it to be. There's so much untapped potential, full of feeds and widgets and other stuff I don't understand. The computer calls to me every time I pass it, and I have to resist the temptation to sit and 'listen' to all the chat that's going on 'out there' (or should that be 'in there'?). I even join in on groups where I feel at home. And now I even run a few groups of my own. Who'd've thunk it? And what's next? I wonder.

pulling a sicky/demise of the rucksack

Trying to remember what I was going to say about all of this because I put the title into drafts a while ago on the premise that it would trigger my thoughts on all this.

 So, pulling a sicky. Well, a few weeks ago I came over all fluey. It turned out to be something pretty unpleasant which I won't go into except to say that it has left me with something incurable but not life-threatening. I just have to learn to live with it. Like I sooo needed something else to think about. groan. What it taught me was that even though it feels like I do very little due to low energy levels, when I was brought really low and couldn't do more than try and keep the essentials, like washing, under control, I had to concentrate on getting well and not overtaxing my system. It also meant that I was able to focus on just being with the kids. One day while recovering I decided I wanted to do a jigsaw and the only one I could find was one of the kids' ones. So I hiked it out and sat at the kitchen table. Littlest sidled up and wanted to join in. What followed was a wonderful hour of closeness and chat. After a while she said to me 'I'm so glad we did this together Mum, I had a lot of fun'. Result! So the next day I decided to do some painting, nothing special, just watercolour block paints and a colouring book. Both girls joined me at the table and again a lot of fun was had. Must remember to do that sort of thing more often and kind of lead by example. It's not just about what they want to do, it can involve my wants too. I get so busy trying to keep the house under control that I forget that the house can keep itself sometimes.

 The rucksack seems to be redundant now. I used to carry it everywhere and it contained everything you could ever possibly need for trips out. Nappies, wipes, small toys, spare knickers, plasters, the list is endless. I was very glad of it, often. Something in there would come in handy for entertaining fractious little ones. Now I get to carry a handbag, remember those? Small, neat, just big enough for bare esentials like purse, mobile and headache pills. I can still stuff interesting finds in there, like info on cool places to go, but oh, the lightness, the freedom. The loss of the rucksack symbolises how far the kids have come and how far away from me they are prepared to venture. Now they have rucksacks of their own if they feel they need/want one. They carry their own treasure and precious things and have their own space to add what they think is important.

colours, masts, nailing, that kind of thing...

*Irony and tongue in cheek warning.* 

I'm not usually one for horoscopes, but the one in my Green Parent magazine just leapt out at me, and more in an ambush kind of way than an inspiring way. It started off by talking about something called Eris, so I had to look that up, obviously. It seems it's a recently-discovered dwarf planet, and as is usually the case, its size is inversely proportionate to the amount of chaos it can cause. Apparently. Just like kids.

It said "Eris was discovered July 29th" (my big girl's birthday as it happens) "2005, and since then has been ascribed to the keyword 'discord'. Now in your sign and taking 560 years to orbit the sun, she is in your sign for the whole of your life, so making peace with her would be a good idea. Since Aries is 'ruled' by Mars, the god of war, coming to terms with the true meaning of discord would enhance your life greatly. You don't have to create waves to be seen. Try negotiations, discussion and trust. That's the best approach in these changing times." 

Oh great. That's just what I need. A lifetime dogged by discord. It turns out that the Eris of classical mythology was the life and soul of the party, quite literally. At a great banquet, to which she had not been invited, she tossed a golden apple onto the table of the gods. The apple had 'for the fairest' written on it and Hera and Athena and Aphrodite all claimed it; when Paris (prince of Troy) awarded it to Aphrodite it began a chain of events that led to the Trojan War. Fantastic. A lifetime watching out for a malicious little goddess, who likes causing trouble. Still in some ways I'm kinda used to it. A close family member bears a striking resemblance to her, in behavioural terms at least. I'd love to think that having Eris in my life will prove to be a positive thing. I've already managed to avert a major family crisis by thinking as clearly as possible and keeping calm, but it was a huge effort, and all I really wanted to do was stamp my foot, rage and explode all over people.

The worst thing is that I don't deal with conflict well. Between my kids I can handle it, but between me and other people I find it tricky. I think very carefully about things before I decide on my opinions so obviously that makes me right (tongue in cheek) and anyone who disagrees with me must be wrong.  If I like someone I tend to think that they'll agree with everything I say and think, because it stands to reason that they'll be like me. So I bumble on, blissful in my unthinking assumptions and then they'll say or do something that knocks me back on my heels. Turns out that they weren't exactly like me, and that they hold different opinions. How can this be? They seemed so nice. Heavens! Does that mean I'm not nice? Or maybe my opinion wasn't as right as I thought. Confusion reigns whilst I equivocate and backpedal like mad trying to reestablish some common ground ('quick, brain, quick! Must find something we agree on otherwise the fabric of the very universe will be rent in twain!').

I don't mind group discussions, which may or may not involve a bit of discord, as long as I don't feel like I'm the only one holding a certain opinion. Usually though I can back up my opinions with information or evidence of some kind (although there are those discussions, and we all have them, where you think of the perfect thing to say 10 mins after the discussion has finished and you're already on the way home).

I find cyber groups really tricky when negotiating contentious subjects. If someone expresses a strong opinion on a subject which is at variance with your own, following Abraham Lincoln's advice would seem to be politic in most cases 'Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt'. Then again, what you have to say may add something to the debate, and the back and forth of thoughts could enhance the knowledge and opinion-forming on both sides. And people may think more of you for having the courage to speak out and express yourself. Or perhaps not. It could just lead to entrenched positions and a pointless waste of energy, not to mention the threat of needless disharmony between the parties that didn't exist before. Thanks Eris. Nice one.

 I've been thinking a lot about what to do when it seems that I'm the only person I know who thinks the way I do on any given issue. I was driving the kids around the countryside recently when it suddenly came to me.  We all know the saying 'There's someone for everyone' and it occurred to me that you could apply that to this particular form of discord. If you know of just one other person who thinks the same way as you then you are no longer alone, and your opinion is immediately validated. Not necessarily right, but then there are degrees of 'right'. All I needed to do was to think of at least one person whose opinions chime with mine on any given issue. An issue-buddy. I'll list a few. This is where the nailing of colours to masts comes in. There's no way Eris is catching me out by making me list ALL of them. There are some things it's not worth stirring up. 

So my incomplete list is:

 Fox hunting - Anne Widdecombe (strange, but true)

Anything relating to the USA - Jon Stewart

So-called political correctness - Stewart Lee

Home edding - John Holt, Sandra Dodd and other insoirational home edders I've met

Birth and breastfeeing - Jack Newman and Michel Odent

If you disagree with any of this, maybe you could get an issues-buddy;-)

a house full of tyrants

A song from Les Mis (a heart full of love) started playing in my head as I typed the title.  There it goes, trundling around in the background. Feel free to either ignore it or sing along.

I have come to the conclusion that I don't run my house, it runs me - ragged. Every corner sneers and nags at me. Do this, finish that, spend some time with me. And even when I succeed in ignoring its pleadings and beratings and concentrate on the children, things start to nag me from their little dens. The aprons in the drawer and the beaters from the electric whisk complain that I haven't done any baking with the kids lately, while the books on the girls' bookcase shelves accuse me of not reading as much to Littlest as I did to her Big Sister. 'There are titles here she's never even seen, never mind had them read to her' they complain. There are unopened science kits, websites to be trawled, educational materials as yet untried, outdoor toys languishing, well, outside, and any number of plans still to be fully explored. It's like living life in a negative. ( remember those? You know, before the days of digital photography). The things I haven't done, the things I don't do and the things I have yet to do are so easy to spot, they are so much in evidence, that I have real difficulty focussing on the things we do actually do and the great leaps of understanding that happen on a day to day basis. Everyone else, I tell myself, is so busy doing really worthwhile educational things, while I can't get even going in the mornings. Achieving just one thing a day feels like climbing a mountain, in terms of the effort taken and the euphoria when it's done.

Given all these tyrants is it any wonder I never get around to doing the things that might bring some extra money into the house (never mind giving me some creative satisfaction)? Even if I could afford, say, a cleaner or some extra childcare, I'd feel really awkward about doing it, as there is something inbuilt in me that says that it is down to each household to run that household. And the truth is that I really do love being with my family as they grow and explore and make sense of their world. Something's gonna have to give. What, I have no idea. It can't be the kids, or my sleep (jealously guarded) or the house, no matter the love/hate relationship I have with it. I'll just have to look more closely in to this cloning thing...