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 I put it at the back of my mind and set to on tidying the pantry, throwing away all the out of date stuff including the medicines.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.