Cabin Fever

Where to go next

2010-02-02T20:39:00.000Z

It feels as though this post has been a long time in the making because it's been a long time in the thinking. It's about something that's at the heart of every home ed home. And it has gone from being a whisper in my ear to a howling and shrieking that reverberates through my whole body. It has occupied ever larger parts of my mind and my time as the past year has gone on. I've made excuses to myself, made allowances for the stressful times and tried hard not to beat myself up, but in the end reality has to be faced. Squarely. Head on.
I have no alternative but to try and tackle it and get my thoughts, and our life, straightened out. I detest routines and structures and systems and timetables and have fought them, kicking and screaming at times, and it's not that I can no longer fight. It's that I have to find a way to bring it all together somehow. I have to get it all out and make myself face it. My deliberations have led me to one conclusion. I'm just not happy with how things are. It seems that the time has come to start imposing things, because if I don't I'll just stay unhappy. I have to find a way to move things in a direction that meets everyone's needs, including my own. I have tried leading by example and presenting positive choices to the kids, but these methods just haven't produced the results that I need in order to feel that I'm doing my very best by my family.
The rot set in, it seems, a couple of years ago with our dog's decreasing health. This led to less exercise being taken by all of us with consequences that I am no longer prepared to allow to continue. Except the 5 year old we are all overweight, and not just a bit overweight,and it's a result of not exercising enough and making unhealthy choices in our diets. Sleep is a big issue. The lack of it means that the children seem constantly tired and grumpy and Daddy Bear and I never get enough 'together time'.The constant tension in the house is really draining. Their ability to learn is also affected, as they and we are not able to focus on what they really need. This is my 'line in the sand', my own personal Rubikon. I've tried prioritising the things that are really important, but the trouble is that it's ALL important and if I concentrate on one or two key areas, say exercise and diet, then other things suffer and lead me back ultimately to the starting point. A lot of going round in circles has been done. I'm beginning to see that a holistic approach is needed, and a pretty radical one at that. Everything needs to change, and it needs to change now. Resistance must be ignored and overcome and new habits and ways of being must be found. I hate to hear myself talking like this, but I have to face facts. My children have gone from being portable, dependent little ones to noisy, opinionated big ones. The shape of my family has changed. I look back fondly to the years when we used to be able to go out every day and wander the streets with the dog, scooters and bikes, and I wonder where it all changed. I now have kids that we have to hassle into their outdoor clothes and almost drag round walks with us. Getting Charlie, our 6 month old puppy, has provided some incentive for getting out of the house, but it hasn't been enough. The children won't go out in the garden on their own (ok, the weather hasn't exactly been clement) and it has left me thinking that maybe my mum had the right idea. She used to work nights and would shove my brother and me out of the house for hours at a time so that she could sleep. My children seem to be unable to do some things by themselves, even around the house. It often feels like I need to have at least three of me in order to just tread water. Maybe I need a bit of loving harshness in order to get them to venture away from me and more into their own (outside) worlds. Way back then what I was doing felt right. I could see that I was doing the best I could for all of us. Attachment parenting just felt so right, but the benefits that I thought would flow from it just haven't. I thought meeting their needs promptly and fully would lead to fearless, confident, autonomous learners, and while it has happened to some extent, it feels like there is something missing from their lives, the kind of inner strength and resilience that my upbringing taught me. Well, imposed on me. If I can help them to develop that kind of strength, and do it with kindness and love then I'll feel I've done my job. However in order for that to happen I (and dh) need to gently and firmly guide them to do what's necessary for us all to feel happier and more fulfilled. It boils down, it seems, to respect. Respect for ourselves and for others. If you respect yourself then you do what your body and mind need you to do. You eat well, exercise enough, sleep adequately and challenge yourself mentally. You learn the skills that you need to be able to thrive. And if you respect others, you consider their needs and appreciate who they are and what they mean to you.

Better late than never

2010-01-20T11:01:00.000Z

International Optimism Day 18th January 2010

This post is instead of the long, rambly, grumbly one I've been working on for ages. Even though it's past the actual event, I'm sure I'm not the only person who needs a bit of optimism at the moment.

Whatever you are in this wonderful world make sure you try and achieve the following:

Make a list of simple things that make you happy and share it:

my wonderful husband
spending time with my dh and children
living in a beautiful part of the country
walking my dog
music
time to reflect
being online
chatting to friends
natural beauty
having enough
feeding the birds
being creative

Write down 3 things you're grateful for:

my family
friends
the NHS

Call someone you haven't spoken to for ages:

Hmm, I'll have a think about that one

Say hello to someone you see everyday, but never speak to:

Luckily everyone round here talks to each other, it's one of the reasons we moved here:-)

Say Yes to something you'd normally say No to:

LOL, dh'll be happy about that one!

Do something random and lovely for a complete stranger:

Next time I get the chance, I will.

Spread the word and get as many of your friends to do the same:

Done

Then tell us what you get up to...

halffull@theoptimistssociety.com

Celebrating what IS

2009-12-16T10:29:00.000Z

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?

2009-12-05T09:15:00.000Z

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

2009-11-01T17:20:00.002Z

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?

2009-10-11T16:31:00.000+01:00

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

2009-09-28T20:03:00.001+01:00

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

2009-09-10T22:07:00.000+01:00

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

2009-09-03T13:17:00.003+01:00

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

2009-08-31T06:18:00.000+01:00

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

2009-08-21T11:41:00.000+01:00

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

2009-07-20T07:38:00.000+01:00

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

2009-07-12T05:07:00.000+01:00

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...

2009-06-28T06:08:00.000+01:00

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

2009-06-14T15:32:00.000+01:00

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

2009-05-24T16:05:00.000+01:00

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

2009-05-13T04:04:00.000+01:00

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

2009-04-28T14:59:00.000+01:00

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

2009-03-19T16:14:00.000Z

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...

2009-02-15T13:15:00.000Z

*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

2009-01-16T14:40:00.000Z

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...

Winter blues and shifting sands

2008-12-01T17:52:00.000Z

It's been a funny old month, November. I've been realising slowly how badly winter affects me. I think I have a form of SAD because I can feel myself slipping into sadness and feelings of inadequacy as the days shorten and the weather gets colder. For some reason this november has been decidedly worse than previous ones. I guess it started when my lovely Grandma was taken into hospital 300 miles away with absolutely no prospect of being able to visit her. We've been trying to persuade her to come up here to live near us, but there are complications, not least of which is that she is 90 years old and very unsure of moving so far. I had the task of dealing with the hospital, social services and home help agency before she could be discharged and it helped me to be able to do something. She was finally allowed home after being assessed and having a new and better care package arranged.

Feeling overwhelmed seems to be a semi-permanent state with me at this time of year. Small things get blown out of all proportion by my over-taxed brain and I feel like I am carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. I have described it to myself as feeling like my brain is a hedgehog turned inside out with the prickles all attacking me. I remember one particularly horrible day early on in the month when Daddy Bear said something, probably innocuous, when I was feeling low, and I went completely into myself, convinced that he didn't understand or value me at all. I took myself off out of the house and marched myself up to a beautiful waterfall nearby where I stood crying in the rain, certain that the world was about to end. I barely noticed the beauty of the place, and I felt so very alone and unloved. Luckily when I came home we were able to talk and reconnect, and Daddy bear was able to listen and just hold me close. I realised it was more about me and my physical and mental state than about 'us'. The mood swings since have caught me off guard and left me gasping for air at times. I wish I had upswings as well as down ones, but I am aware enough to see that if I look after myself better I can cope. It can be hard to muster the energy and find the time to do the things that I know will help, such as good food and exercise, but it is crucial that I keep on working on it.

November is also a very full-on time for me with loads of close family birthdays, including my middle daughter. Coming as they do so close to Christmas I feel under so much pressure to find presents and create good times and memories. This November I felt like I barely limped through them all, but Daddy bear was on hand to take the pressure off and deal with some of the birthdays himself. It was a huge help, especially as he is so loving and complimentary about the job I was doing in trying to make people happy. His is one of the birthdays, and it was really happy for both of us.

So now that is out of the way and I can start trying to look forward to Christmas. I promised myself that I'd do my best to get most of the buying and sorting done by the end of November, and I have. Only a few more gifts to buy. It'll be a more frugal Christmas than some but no less happy for all that, I hope.

As to shifting sands, that is what I have realised that home ed relationships can be. When you think that life is fairly settled something comes along to blow your cosy ideas out of the water and unsettle you. It's nothing really major, and I don't think I could put my finger on it if I tried, but it all feels so fluid, as though life is going on around you and you have no power over what is going on or what people mean to you, or more importantly, what you mean to them. Living where we do, an hour's drive from most other home edders, and with the added complication of the price of petrol to worry about, it can be easy to feel left out of the loop. I have to choose carefully what we will be involved with and make difficult prioritising decisions about the kind of interaction I feel will be best for the kids and me. I've no doubt that this particular aspect of home edding will continue to be problematic. I can just about cope with being uncertain as to my relationships with others, but when it starts to affect the kids it makes life very tough indeed. Both the girls are very sociable creatures and seem to need more friends than I can supply. They are 7 and 4. Their older brother seems more sanguine about it, happy to slot in with others when the opportunity arises, but content enough with our small family circle. The girls seem to crave other children, especially girls, and complain that they have no one to play with. I wish I could wave a magic wand and provide the company they need, but in the absence of this I am a little lost and at sea.

And finally, a little bit of positivity. I have 3 tuesday mornings between now and Christmas and I've set myself the task of going to to our tiny little local library to try and write some of the children's books, the ideas for which have been crowding in on me for some time now. I am alternately excited and terrified, convinced of my ability and certain I'll fail. I have absolutely no idea of the nuts and bolts of the writing business, such as how to present my work to publishers, but after ten years of looking after little ones the one thing I do know about is how books are crafted. All I have to do now is conquer the tyranny of the blank page and regardless of how it's 'supposed' to be done, find my own way through it and out the other side. Anyone know of any good writing courses in the north east?

Making progress?

2008-11-03T16:59:00.000Z

This is a bit of a follow on to my September wobbles post. After acknowledging to myself that I do get all academical at times I found myself pondering about learning in general and how it applies to my 10 year old son in particular. I wondered whether one of the reasons I get a bit wobbly at times is that I find myself thinking of other children of my children's ages and what they might be doing in school, and how my children aren't doing that stuff and that maybe if they don't do those things maybe they'll never learn them. Obviously I had to sit myself down with a cup of tea and give myself a stern talking to at this point. In order for this line of thought to be productive it had to go somewhere, so I gave myself the task of trying to come up with what I thought 10 year old children ought to be able to do. So what should a ten year old be able to do? Hold an intelligent conversation, be able to build a den, make a cup of tea, cook a simple meal, add and subtract, know a few times tables, if not all of them up to 12, read to themselves? I haven't really reached any conclusions which will help me to find ways to enable him to learn what he 'needs' to know. Maybe I could think about what he ought to be able to do by the age of 18 and work backwards from there. Still didn't get me anywhere. It's impossible to think in those terms. I was always urged during my teaching career to be proactive. Home ed seems to be the opposite of being proactive ( I never really did figure out what 'they' meant by that). It's about observing and enabling children in the moment, not at some hypothetical point in the future. It's about seeing the joy in what they are doing right now and not always wanting them to move on or 'progress'.

Demons vanquished (or at least squished a little)

2008-09-23T08:38:00.000+01:00

The demon of the playroom has finally been vanquished. For now. It's a huge achievement for me and I'm patting myself on the back. I reach the nirvana of everything in it's place (and broken and unloved toys sneakily disposed of) a couple of times a year. It took me 3 days of solid hard graft this time while the kids played and left me to it, throwing me the odd pitying look that said 'She's at it again, let's just leave her to her madness'.

This particular demon seems to work in totally the opposite way from the demon in the Poltergeist film. Instead of sucking everything into the playroom (which would be nice as it would be doing at least half of the job for me) it whirls things around in there and spews things out all over the rest of the house. The demon in Poltergeist also abducted children, which is a tempting thought at times, as long as I could have them back unharmed when I'm ready for them.

The amount of time I spend picking things up off the floor leads me to conclude that there is another demon at work, who spends all his time (got to be a 'he') putting things on the floor for me to pick up. Maybe it's only a mischievous demon trying to be helpful, I mean it has obviously spent a lot of time watching what I do and, seeing that I spend so much time picking things up, he has decided that either I enjoy it or that it is part of my function and role in life, without which I'd be lost.

Then there's the elves. You may have them too. What they do is to steal something important, like car keys or glasses, and keep them for themselves just long enough for you to notice they are missing, at which point they follow you around in your frantic search for them and will only relinquish them when you've looked in the same place three or four times. They will then put them in that very place, leaving you muttering 'But I looked there already'. St Anthony can occasionally be relied upon to make them put things down. I've no idea how as I don't believe in him, but that doesn't seem to matter. if you are absolutely desparate you can ask for his help and things appear. Of course there may be a perfectly rational explanation for both phenomena to which Occam's razor can be applied and which doesn't involve either elves or saints.

September alert!!

2008-09-09T14:36:00.000+01:00

It's rolled around again like a nasty rash or a dose of the flu, but this year I'm ready for it and I have vowed it's not going to get the better of me ever again. In the past when September rolled around and everyone else's kids were trudging off to school again something strange would come over me. I'd get a case of the teachery wobbles ( I was a secondary school teacher in a past existence) and would start to panic about 'getting the kids to do something educational'. This would always end in tears, usually mine, as I tried to squash some learning into my kids and they would dig their heels in and seemed to want to sabotage my best efforts at 'structuring' them. I appreciate now that they will not be squashed or structured, no matter how hard I try. So this year (somehow the year always starts in september for me- old habits die hard) I am going to be true to myself and more importantly to my kids and follow our unschooling instincts and be a lot more calm about the whole thing. All through the summer the kids have been following their own learning patterns and filling their growing brains with plenty of new experiences and ideas and building on what they have already amassed in there. Why reinvent the wheel? If it ain't broke don't fix it. I don't really understand where these academic panics come from, but I'm just going to acknowledge that they are there and then ignore them. So we'll go on outings of various kinds and they'll do their own educational thing and I will try not to turn every experience into a learning opportunity. I'll just sit back and marvel at the organic way that children have of making sense of their world, and I'll be there at every turn to help, find resources, suggest ways to enrich their discoveries and generally and genuinely appreciate the efforts they are making for themselves.

Getting sorted

2008-08-18T17:27:00.000+01:00

I keep finding that I think of things to blog about then by the time I get round to jotting them down something else has become more interesting or insistent. So over the last couple of weeks I've been about to write about this or that and never got round to it. Such is life I suppose,and it's life that keeps getting in the way and changing my priorities for me.

Well, anyway, the item at the top of my list (for now, so I'd better note it down while it's still at the top) is that sometimes it can seem like you're banging your head against a brick wall trying to achieve the seemingly unachievable then all of a sudden things start to fall into place (makes a nice change from things falling apart) following the unlikeliest of proddings. This week it was the imminent arrival at our place of a beautiful chaise longue. I have long coveted one for our imaginary conservatory which we are going to have built. One Day. It'll be perfect in there. As I'm sure you are aware though, what you covet doesn't usually come along at the right moment, if at all, so when one was offered to us we had no choice but to jump at the chance. I had imagined that we had a little time to organise ourselves in time for it's arrival, but apparently not. The owner wants rid of it, so we need to fit it in to an already pretty cluttered house. It's going in our bedroom. On top of the dog bed, in front of my chest of drawers. I'm joking. We'll have to move the dog bed to oh, wherever. I started doing my usual 'well, if it's going to happen we need a plan and I need it clear in my head before we even start' and I got accused of being negative and as Daddy Bear and I tried to work a way through the morass the conversation turned to the contents of our wardrobe and how we had promised ourselves that we were going to go through all the stuff and radicalise it. Then we found ourselves actually getting down to it. Radicalising, that is. Clothes were dragged out, tried on, cooed over or groaned at and before we knew it we had a whole black bin bag full of unsuitable clothing. I was left quite a few items of lovely clothing from my mother in law. It really is lovely stuff, Jaeger, Viyella, seriously good quality, but I had never been sure whether any of it was actually 'me' or could be made to become 'me'. Most of the keep stuff was quite a surprise as I started thinking and experimenting with what clothes could go with what in a 'me' kind of way. I am now much more at ease with my wardrobe and planning what to wear at a later date. After that things started to come together, things got done, new furniture we had ordered was delivered and put in place and things I had planned on doing for a while actually got done. I now have a home made magazine holder for the loo. I am very happy about it on so many levels. Not least of which is the fact that I envisaged what it would look like, sourced and bought the necessary eyelets, put them onto the old airplane headrest cover and hung it up. Now I have some loo reading, and a sense of achievement. Priceless.

That was then, this is now

2008-07-21T17:56:00.000+01:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about the way I parent. I'm a big fan of Faber and Mazlish mainly because, when I read this book for the first time, I was struck by how much of it I was already doing instinctively, yet there was still a lot to learn about parenting in a positive way. I think I occasionaly approach TCS (Taking Children Seriously) but it's mostly a combination of relaxed parenting and my own particular spin of respect and compassion. With a dollop of Cesar Millan too:-) It works for dogs, but it also seems to work for children, especially when I remember to do the exercise part. I can't manage the four-hour hikes that Cesar does every morning, but we get fresh air and pack migration as often as possible. I digress.
What I was mostly thinking is that doing it this way demands a lot of energy and effort from me. And a lot of tolerance, patience, compassion, thought and negotiation. I should apply for a job a the UN. It'd be a breeze. The other day I had picked up a big bag of bird seed from the garden centre and the girls and I went through a whole long rigmarole of which child gets to sit where in the car. Although I was quite pleased at how I handled it and got the girls to agree on a workable solution, part of me was screaming ' Why shouldn't I just do it the way my parents did it?' You probably know what I mean. It would have been a case of 'Right! You sit there and you sit there. And shut up!' Never did me any harm, I thought to myself. Then I gave myself a chance to reflect on that thought. Actually it did do a lot of harm. It set my brother and me against each other. While our parents were around we were nominally obedient. Out of sight of my parents he was quite sadistic towards me. I can see now how obvious it is that that would happen. If you repress children and give them no say in their life then they are going to react against it in the only way they know how, which is to repress someone else in their turn. I truly believe that is how bullying happens in schools too. This kind of parenting also allows children no way of learning how to be anything but dependant and helpless and that sets up endless internal conflicts on reaching adulthood. My kids are lively and noisy and bolshy, but I'm almost certain that they are not mean or spiteful or sneaky with each other because they don't have to be. They get to work out how things should be in front of me. And I hope they realise that all feelings are acceptable, but that some actions aren't. And that it is possible to work things out in a way that respects everyone's needs as far as is workable.

A Grand Day Out

2008-07-21T17:26:00.000+01:00

It's been a lovely day. It started with dental appointments for all the kids with glowing reports about their teeth, even Big Brother who is notoriously bad at brushing but has been remembering and doing it well lately, then off to Durham for a Breastfeeding Picnic to raise awareness about the disparity between Scottish law and the rest of the UK. Morgan puts it so much better than I could here:There were about 20 mums there and it was so nice to be in the majority for a change. Being a 'long term' breastfeeder can be a bit of a lonely old life at times, but there I was surrounded by other breastfeeding mums all enjoying the sunshine and having a good time. I met a wonderful young man called Daniel who sat happily on my lap and smiled up at me for ages. I also got distracted by the cute student eye-candy on my long walk back from the toilets in the cathedral:-) Then after the picnic it was off to a cafe bar to spend a great afternoon of adult chat with a Ma/Phd student discussing bed-sharing. The hours whizzed by and I think we covered every possible topic relating to attachment parenting. A whole day surrounded by like-minded people. Priceless.

Doing different

2008-07-13T12:27:00.000+01:00

Whilst watching a tv programme on unassisted birth, (Extraordinary People: Outlaw births) I started to think about the parallels between unassisted birth and unschooling. I know I was supposed to be thinking 'Oh look at those strange people, putting themselves and their babies at risk by turning their back on the medical profession' but being fairly literate media-wise, and having taken part in a similar documentary ('Honey I suckle the kids'. That title sucks. Literally) I ignored the obvious bias and just watched the mothers talking and followed their stories.

Like unschoolers, or autonomous home educators, these mothers were following their own instincts, trusting their bodies and their babies and arming themselves with enough knowledge to cope with most eventualities. The process would probably scare the pants off most people (in the case of unassisted birth and unschooling) but the results spoke for themselves. You only had to look at the faces of the mothers and the body language of the newborns to see that both had come through an incredible experience. In one case the mother was in labour for only two hours and was exceptionally quiet throughout.

I suppose that for birth there is a kind of half way house, that is a midwife attending a home birth, which we did three times as a family, but I just couldn't think of an equivalent in terms of education. You either have the hospital birth/ send your child to school or the unassisted birth at home/ home education. There is nothing in between, no 'midwife' attending to help you through if anything 'goes wrong'. However the more I thought about it, I realised that the comparison doesn't work, for this part at least. We the parents are the midwives of home education. We are the ones with the expertise. We know our children and we make sure that each child gets exactly what he or she needs from the experience.

It is also quite a private experience, in both cases. No one really sees us 'educating' our children. We go out and mix with all kinds of people, but there is really no one else in our house (or walking round with us ) examining what we do, checking our pulse or our blood pressure, telling us when to push or not (I'm getting into the medical analogy now). Occasionally someone makes an attempt to tick their boxes by ensuring that we are indeed in labour/ educating our children otherwise than by attendance at school, but for the most part we are left to get on with it without interference.

I guess alot of people would see either stance as being quite arrogant or foolhardy. Who are we to question the received wisdom of birthing in hospital or sending our children at school? Who do we think we are, believing that tried and tested methods of birthing or schooling don't apply to us and our children? After all a lot of teachers/midwives spent ages in training and a lot of educatonal theorists/obstetricians spent years honing their skills so that teachers/ midwives could be taught exactly what works in a classroom setting/ hospital birth. There, though, is the rub. These methods may well 'work' in schools and hospitals, but things are different at home. The methodology is different. And what we do works for us.

There is also no predictable way to do it. Each birth/ child is different, and no one can predict how it will turn out. I suppose it comes down to a deep conviction that what you are doing is right for your child(ren) and your family, and the only way we can tell that we're doing the 'right' thing is by the way it feels. For the most part, with us, it feels just fine. There are a few pangs along the way, a few false starts, a few shifts of position, the odd scary moment and, as in labour, I do get to the point when I feel I can't take it any more. That of course is a very important moment in childbirth/ home education, because you know you're about to see the fruits of your labour.

Sorting it all out

2008-07-01T05:14:00.000+01:00

Anyone who has known me for any length of time is probably familiar with my 'tidy-enough-house' dilemma. I like to be spontaneous when it comes to the kids' learning but the irony is that one can only be truly spontaneous when one has a rough idea of where things are, and that takes time and effort. I've also noticed how my mood improves when the house is relatively tidy, and how muddled I feel when the house is in a more chaotic state. However, I just don't like housework. Perhaps I feel it's beneath me, or maybe it's just a hangover from my childhood when I had to follow someone else's agenda and timetable. I had a bit of an epic struggle this week with a small but very significant part of the house. I call it 'my area' (maybe I should change that to 'my space'!), and it's about six foot square with large windows looking out onto a lovely bit of the garden where the bird feeders are. Since we moved here two and a half years ago, it has gone through a few metamorphoses ranging from general dumping ground to depository for other people's stuff to 'this bit belongs to me - see? I've even got a storage unit (erected by me) to prove it'!!!

I had an external deadline to work to as we were having a new phone line put in and I just had to get it tidied, but when faced with the prospect of getting down to it I went into a kind of meltdown. It seemed to me to be the embodiment of a problem that's been getting worse and worse lately. I try to get things sorted, but when faced with what seems an uphill struggle I panic and freeze and feel totally overwhelmed by the task. I've been trying to sort the playroom (ie tidy, find a place for everything, throw away stuff we no longer need or use, gather stuff from around the house and put it where it should be) for the last 18 months. It just feels like such a mammoth task, and every time I get it sorted to a certain extent, life intervenes, I turn my back and it's all back to square one. I feel like Sisyphus some days.

Well, with some emotional help from Gary I calmed down enough to make a start, but not before I'd retreated under my duvet to try and steady myself. I got stuck into it and the strange thing is that once I'd started to make a difference to all the piles, I actually began to enjoy it. It felt like a fog was lifting. Having the deadline both helped and hindered. It meant that I absolutely had to get it done, but it definitely contributed to the anxiety attack as well.

I never really know how to organise myself as there seems to be so much going on at once that it's hard to see what really needs doing and what can be left for a while. I did take on board something I read recently in a book called 'Undoing Depression' by Richard O'Connor. In it he talks about the difference between things being 'urgent' and 'important'. Too often we are governed by the tyranny of urgent tasks because they are in your face and demand your attention right now, but there are also important things, things that could really make a difference to your life, and even lessen the number of urgent tasks, but these important things keep getting pushed to the back of the queue by urgent tasks. I took from this that sometimes you have to risk the anxiety of ignoring the urgent tasks and actively decide to tackle the important ones. Like 'my area'. It's going to make a real difference now that I have a space to retreat to with a lot of my stuff around me, especially now that I have found homes for a lot of it.

Evne though I hate hearing myself saying 'Not now, darling' or 'Can't you see I'm busy?' I may just have to weather that for a while until I feel I have achieved more of the really important things in our life. Either that or take a leaf out of one home edding mother of six's book, whom I read about some years ago. She would get up at 4am apparently, so that she could get all the housework done before the kids got up, then she could devote her entire day to the kids learning. I certainly admire her, but I know for a fact I don't have that amount of stamina.

To bed perchance to sleep

2008-06-02T15:15:00.000+01:00

Although I would describe ourselves as an autonomous family, especially where the children's learning is concerned, one area where I'm unashamedly NOT autonomous is sleep, or rather bedtimes. This is because, if the kids were allowed to let their bodies tell them when to go to bed, we'd have 3 different bedtimes and 3 different waking times which would effectively mean that I'd be on call most of the evening and starting the day pretty early due to their differing body clocks.I definitely need some 'me' time. I suppose to be strictly accurate I need some 'no kids' time in order to wind down properly and recharge my own batteries. However we have been really struggling with how to get them to go to sleep at night. The usual bedtime for the older two, aged 9 and 6, is 8.30 with lights out at 9. This doesn't mean that they go to sleep easily. We've tried to make their environment conducive to sleep by making sure they eat well and exercise during the day, disallowing screen time an hour before bedtime, having a gradual wind down period, reading stories (most nights), not having tv or computers in their rooms and generally making sure that their bedrooms are comfortable places to sleep. They are allowed to have music or a story cd while they are in bed, which gets switched off at lights out time, and they each have a night light to offset any anxiety issues. Even with all this they take an AGE to go to sleep, some nights I even go to bed before they're asleep. I've been trying to get them up earlier in the morning but I'm so bleary eyed myself that I find it hard to drag myself out of my nice warm bed.

Today was slightly different though. The two older ones got themselves up at stupid o'clock, I believe it was about 6am, an hour which I had heard of, but never quite believed existed. They played together pretty well in that we didn't hear them until nearly 8am and the day progressed well enough. At about 9.30am my 9 yr old called me to say that his little sister was asleep on the settee. This I had to see. Sure enough there she was propped up and asleep. Time for a sneaky photo I thought. She woke about half an hour later and we all went out for a picnic and a visit to a park with friends. On the way home Big Brother fell asleep in the car for a few minutes (hope that doesn't bode ill for his bedtime tonight) but the girls stayed awake, until we got home. Then I realised that Big sister aged 6 was again asleep on the settee at about 7pm. This hasn't happened for so long I couldn't believe my eyes. I managed to carry her to bed and sincerely hope she sleeps through and doesn't get a second wind later this evening.

I think I need to go and get out my copy of 'The No Cry Sleep Solution' (the one for older children) by Elizabeth Pantley and see if I can update our bedtime/sleep arrangements. That's one of the hardest things about bringing up children: you need to constantly reassess what you're doing as the children get older. Everything is fluid, nothing stays the same for long. At least I have some good help in the books that I have found useful in the past. As well as giving some good advice, none of it judgmental, the authors have helped me to hone my thinking skills and arrive at our own imperfect solutions. All I need is to feel awake enough to actually think clearly.

To blog or not to blog

2008-06-01T05:52:00.000+01:00

As promised, well hinted at, in my first post, here's my attempt to explain to myself what I'm doing or trying to do by writing this new blog of mine. I have had an awareness since I started this blog that time is kind of stacking up against me in a 'gotta post, gotta post!' kind of way. My first attempt at blogging here :http://lizngary.blogspot.com/ (hmm, there's my first snag, I don't know how to put a link in there) was good enough as a first attempt and I'm quite happy with the posts in terms of tone and message, but I just couldn't seem to keep it up. Maybe I wasn't sufficiently motivated, but I think it just probably wasn't the right time for me to be blogging. Is there ever a right time, I wonder? With a little help from my friends I had a bit more success being part of a collective blog here: http://loozingit.blogspot.com/ . I had a clear reason and aim in mind, ie formulating a healthy eating plan, and that helped me to keep on track, both with blogging and healthy eating.

So I've been trying to work out exactly why I feel like blogging now, when so many others are reaching the decision to stop blogging, whether temporarily or permanently. I guess that blogs, like email group members, will tend to come and go and I should base my decision to blog on my own feelings and motivation. I've also had more of a chance to have a look around at the blogging world and read various different kinds of blogs written by people in differing communities, so I've had a chance to think about the look and feel of this blog (and I have big plans, hindered only by a lack of familiarity with the software which is making the process frustratingly slow and painstaking). I do have my 3 fairy blogmothers (thanks you lot) to help me overcome any glitches, as I have learnt that good support is essential in any undertaking.

I have been examining what I want and what I don't want from blogging and from this blog in particular. I think I'm clearer about what I don't want. I've been dismayed in the past by bloggers who seem to think that they are only writing for a select few, perhaps a group of friends. Now this is absolutely fine, as most of us probably envisage a small readership and expect comments only from people we 'know' quite well either in the real world or in cyberspace. What I didn't think was fine was that they seemed to forget that, unless you password your blog, it is open to anyone who wants to read it. As such I believe one has a responsibility to be respectful, especially if you are blogging about real people in real time. I've also felt very humbled looking at not only other peoples' blogs but also their lives. They all seem to have so much going on in their days that it made my head spin and I felt inadequte by comparison. Now I know that comparisons are odious but I just don't feel up to presenting our life that way. So what do I want from this blog? Well recently I have had experiences which I could have taken to an email group or discussed with friends, but it either didn't feel appropriate or it wasn't possible and I felt the need to examine my thoughts and feelings soon after the event. I think that's what I'm hoping to do, strew a few thoughts and ideas on this table I've created and push them around a bit till they resemble something.

Well, as I have hungry kids pressing me to cook, I'll end with just a brief explanation of the title of this blog. Most obviously I chose this title, or rather my dh Gary suggested it, because we live in a wooden house in the far north of england. We love our 'shed', it is a fascinating place to live and I'm proud and passionate about living here. However I do feel the need to get away and roam on a regular basis. It doesn't have to be far, it can be a walk in the wonderful countryside near us, or a drive to visit other home edders. The view of 'our' valley as we come over the hill on our way home is a great reward for taking ourselves away for a while. And it gives me new perspective every time I see it. If ever I get wobbly about having moved our family 300 miles from our old home I only have to sweep along down 'Mile Bank' and I feel like a queen surveying her realm.

Hello world!

2008-05-26T17:09:00.000+01:00

This is my second attempt at blogging. I'm still not really sure what I'm expecting from it or how I'm going to go about it, in fact one of my first posts will probably be 'To blog or not to blog' detailing the journey I've taken to get even this far! At the moment I'm just standing back and admiring the view.

The edge of the abyss

2006-12-05T18:14:00.000Z

I've been waiting for the inspiration for this post to arrive. It hasn't, so I'm taking a friend's advice and just doing it anyway, so it may end up as a collage or a stream of consciousness or just a mess. Probably reflects the way life has been lately. I can't believe my last post was the beginning of October. I'm not very good with medium term memory so I can't really say whether we've been hectically busy. I do get the impression, as I think back, of lots of trips out (well, lots of driving anyway) and a lot of 'stuff' going on, like a new meeting place for our local group. There's also been a lot of niggling (the way a volcano niggles) family stuff to contend with, which culminates in the time-honoured game of 'Who do we upset this christmas?' Unexpected family members have come to our aid, and on the whole tried to ease the way, but everyone has their own agenda, so everybody's competing agendas have done a bit of jostling and elbowing, and hopefully it'll turn out ok. As long as I get my wish of noone throwing major wobblers or spanners in the works till the kids are tucked up in bed at the end of a happy christmas day I can stand all the frantic activity beforehand. And then there's the increasingly worrying legislative 'changes' and challenges. Just trying to keep up with all the 'paperwork' is enough of a headache without trying to work out what it means for home edders generally and us in particular, and what, if anything, can be done to head off the worst excesses of all this tweaking and tinkering. Not that I believe for one moment that that is all there is to it. I suspect an agenda behind it which will potentially change the face of home edding forever,and not for the better. It may even do way with it altogether. And I don't think that's scaremongering. Either there are a lot of paranoid people out here in home ed land or they really are out to get us. And it's not going to be any fun saying 'I told you so'. It seems like we're being cluster bombed with bits here and bits there of stuff that needs to be inticately examined for potential threat. Just because a particular document doesn't mention home edders specifically doesn't mean it won't affect us. As someone pointed out, the truancy legislation wasn't supposed to affect us. I'd like to thank all those dedicated people out there who are looking out for all our interests and putting their time, effort and skill into finding ways to preserve the rights we all have and which have been hard won by other home edders who also were willing to challenge and push and make sure everyone played fair. I'm not sure what my part is in all this as I haven't the first clue what to say in a consultation situation, but I know it's up to every single home edder to keep themselves informed and do what they can. It won't be any good saying 'Oh well, I meant to do something...' BTW that's a note to myself, not a challenge to anyone else.

Learning as a competitive sport

2006-10-04T08:57:00.000+01:00

With Tiny (the middle one) at the age where she would have just started school I've been coming across a lot of other parents whose kids just have, and remembering how it was when my eldest was at school. She went right through school and I wish she hadn't, I wish I'd taken her out, (but that's for another post). The competition over whose child can do what, or more accurately whose child can do the most, was so prevalent. I think it's worse these days because of the way school is. I not only get asked what letters Tiny knows, but also get regaled with how much homework their child has (WHAT?!! they've only just started school, the poor little mites. They shouldn't be doing homework, they should be playing). The impression given by all this 'busy stuff' is that you've got to take education so seriously and just ram knowledge into your children or they'll just get left behind and be on the scrapheap by the age of 6, and then what about SATS results? If they don't achieve a high score presumably they'll never have a good job and will be thorougly miserable for the rest of their lives.
SO I ought to be feeling really smug about home edding, shouldn't I? Unfortunately the hangover from the school competitiveness doesn't just disappear and you can end up still being caught up in it. I feel like I'm being battered over the head by some parents who want to convince me how good the school is where their little on goes and that my two would be so much better off there than at home, and by others who probably want to bolster their need to be seen to be giving their child the best possible start by rehearsing what their child is learning when they're with other mums. It's only natural, you get validation of what you're doing that way. So I turn to the home ed community for a little sanity and for the most part that's what I get, but this competitiveness that we've all been taught from day 1 can really get in the way. Instead of hearing what other parents do and reading their blogs, and being inspired, I find myself being cowed by all the stuff they're doing that I'm not, or rather my perception of what they're doing. The feeling that I'm 'not doing enough' has been following me around since I first started home edding 4 years ago. I have to give myself a stern talking to though, because that's not what we're doing this for. It's not about stuffing facts and figures into young minds, nor about packing as much into a day or a week as we can. Even if the kids learn absolutely nothing (as if that's possible) , they will have benefitted from being able to do things at their pace, not at the pace a school might dictate, nor rushing to keep up with other families, who, after all, are just doing the same thing as us; running their lives to suit their family and its own unique style.

Living well is the best revenge

2006-09-18T19:56:00.000+01:00

I use this quote by George Herbert so often it might as well be my motto. Actually I used to misquote it as ' The best revenge is to live well' until one sleepless stupid o'clock in the morning, with injustice on my mind, I googled it and found out where it actually came from.
I'm not sure whether I need to explain how I read this quote, after all what matters about a text, in my humble opinion, is how each individual interprets it. Suffice to say though, that I don't consider 'living well' to mean eating from gold plates and sleeping between satin sheets.
I think I first began to consider the concept of living well while I was still at school and irritated by those who were effortlessly popular and pretty. With hindsight I was able to say to my own growing up daughter when faced with the same frustrations, 'Well, just picture them in 10 years time. They may seem to have the upper hand, and all the attention, now, but which of you is going to go farther, them or you?' I didn't mean it in an unkind way, it's just that we can often lose sight of our own gifts when faced with such 'obvious' talents.
Later in life, when faced with slights, bullying, unfairness, injustice and intolerance it has been tempting to give in to murderous thoughts. It's difficult to resist the desire to poke someone in the eye, rant at the top of my voice, let the air out of their tyres, throw a brick through their window, watch them die slowly and painfully, hurt them as much as they've hurt me, but the trouble is that to act on that would not only be immoral, it would also not achieve anything and actually result in diminishing me. To actively and openly react to the provocation, however justified I felt, would have brought nothing new and useful to the situation. It's much more difficult, but ultimately more worthwhile and wholesome to one's own sense of self, to metaphorically lift your chin and stride on (and over). To keep your integrity intact and carry on living by your own principles, achieving in a small way every day, watching those you love grow brighter and happier and knowing that that is much more important that transient point-scoring, even when you know damned well you're in the right, is not only a good thing to do, it's the best thing. It's a bit like a home made cake. The most important thing is that you made it, no one else. And no one else could do it quite the way you did.

all welcome here :)

2006-08-30T22:54:00.000+01:00

Well here we are, been meaning to do this for a long time :) now you can pop in and see us as often as you like ! Just pull up a chair, bring your cuppa and we'll put the world to rights.
The more the merrier , be it black, white, mainstream, hippy, muslim, christian, pagan, aetheist, left wing, socialist, right wing or raving loony party. All are welcome here, with nappys, bottles, boobs or a big sandwich and an apple - all are welcome here. Kids in tow, an aged old gran to bring along , no kids, some kids , old young , fat or thin, long hair or short or mohecan, all are welcomed here.
Pull up a chair on Liz n Gary's veranda and make yourself at home. We're here to share some tails, to put right some wrongs, to share laughter, fun or tears; all are welcome here.