Having parenting anxiety.
Suddenly realised that Child Rat Race (aka. school) starts in about a week and all the mentally expanding and educationally enhancing activities that I planned in my Perfect Parenting world have not come off.
Anxiety has been triggered by a number of things:
1. Pix starting high school.
2. Roo starting Year 3.
3. Running into the educationally obsessive and competitive mother of some other kid in the class whilst uniform shopping. V disheartening at best of times.
4. Hearing yesterday that Pix’s best friend is no longer going to same high school and instead is going to Pooosh Private School where if you don’t end up being a doctor you invariably marry a prince. This left nauseous feeling in pit of stomach and brooding sense of “I’m not giving my child the best educational start in life” guilt.
I know this guilt.
We are old foes.
Usual way of banishing it is by hurrying to Tesco and buying a stack of those “Learn Maths with Willy the Wizard Key Stage 1/2” books and then working through them like future of civilisation depends on it. Problem is that those books feel like educational Dairylea Dunkers; plastic pots full of tables and sums, but nothing really very enriching or nutritional for the mind, body or soul. Nail biting brain storming session ensues, partnered with inner voice tutting “too little, too late.”
Not Nice At All.
Last night sat up very late downloading educational resources for Key Stage 2 and 3. First had to Google what Key Stage 2 and 3 actually mean. Not a good start.
“What are you doing?” Ads asked me at ten past midnight. He was arranged awkwardly on sofa with his foot elevated following a nasty knee injury at football.
“I am constructing a meticulous and probably impossible to execute extra-curricular educational programme for the kids,” I replied. “This week I am going to inspire them in the ways of poetry. We’re learning Haiku tomorrow morning.”
Not sure if it was the knee or not.
7.25am (this morning)
In car driving to A&E because Ads’ leg is about to fall off.
“Pix, do you know what a syllable is?” I asked.
“Isn’t it like the rhythmic beats in a word?” Pix replied.
I’m impressed. I tell her so. Then I explain to them both what Haiku is. Explain that the first sentence in the poem has 7 syllables, the second 5 and the third 2.
I know. I KNOW!! I got it wrong. I’ve just realised that there are nineTEEN syllables, 7,5,7 in Haiku. I will break the news to them after I’ve written this post. Anyway … back to the poetry …
“Hi-pooh?” Roo squawked with laughter.
“Hi-pooh. Exactly!” I declared. Was secretly concluding that if Roo is amused by Haiku then he may be inspired by it too. “Right, let’s see who can make one!”
And they both did!
“A big bottom does a poo.
On a blue toilet.
“Doreen’s having her Soreen.
And it’s not boring.