About my boy

Hockey colour, but ...

2011-04-08T22:27:00.001+01:00

End of the Lent Term. Son was happy.

Husband and I attended the end-of-term concert and final assembly.

It was a very pleasant surprise to us when son's name was included in the list for Hockey colours.

"He'd be so happy," I said, while waiting for him to emerge from his locker room.

But no, son was not looking happy.

"Why are you looking so sad?"

Answer: Someone said he heard other boys saying I don't really deserve the colour.

I was most annoyed.

On the first Headmaster's assembly after his ski trip, when he was presented the "skier of the week" award, he was confronted in public by a classmate for being selfish, in a manner that left him with no chance of defending himself.

The boys managed to settle the matter amongst themselves later on, which was good, but it totally ruined what would have been a very happy start to a weekend.

Today, after winning an award for the first time, ever, in a school sport, his achievement was being belittled by classmates (allegedly) because he "did not deserve it". Once again it ruined the start of our term break.

Why are these boys so wicked? Why are they so unkind to my son?

My son went up immediately to his teacher to ask, "Was that a typo?" He thought perhaps he was given the colour by mistake. It was not a mistake.

We phoned Nanny to give her the news. Her first response was, "O! Just like grandad."

Grandad was an ace hockey player.

Son is not a natural at sport, but is good in academic work and music. He tries very hard at games. Just two weeks ago he was chuffed that he came in 10th in his cross-country in his age group, eighth in his class, in a very good time.

Some weeks before that he told me, with pride in his voice, "Mum, I can kick a rugby ball now."

Great, I said, well done.

"Yeah, but the other boys in class could do that three years ago."

Only in recent months have they been playing more hockey and I was surprised the first time I was told by a staff member that he played really well. But he was sad that he was not in the A team. Instead, because his rugby had really come on, according to the Games Master, he was made to play rugby.

Eventually he was back on the hockey team, and seemed happier.

Any way we are happy that he finally has been recognized for his effort in a sport. To the boy/s who say he does not deserve the award, my response to them would be, "The correct response to that should be 'Congratulations!'"

If my son has said to a classmate that he did not deserve an award (in school work, say), I would be very cross with my son. In my opinion it is bad form, poor upbringing, appalling manners to say to someone, "You don't deserve an award."

Last week he had a homework assignment which required to consider which of the Ten Commandments he thought was the most significant. His answer was, "do not envy" (covet), because it leads to the other sins (theft, murder, adultery, etc).

We concluded that these other boys are just envious of him.

He was given his effort and attainment grades. He was not impressed by the list of A grades (English, Maths, Science, Latin, French, Music, etc) , "I've got an 'A' in Games," was his delighted response.

I ski, therefore I am

2011-02-27T20:02:00.003Z

Had a child-free half-term last week. Such fun!

Son was off skiing. Husband at work as usual. I didn't make it to the gym "every day" as I planned to because I had quite a few things to see to.

A cousin was over from Singapore to sit her PhD viva. We celebrated on Thursday her achievement of "Passed with minor amendments". Making those amendments should be a formality.

Son came back on Saturday (yesterday), a bit sunburnt, and he was pleased to tell us, while walking home from school, that he was named "skier of the week". He even has a T-shirt (ie "got the T-shirt") to prove.

He went on about how it is a very large T-shirt. Possibly because they didn't expect a 10-year-old like him to win that title. And that he would be wearing that T-shirt for the next few years.

When we got to the door we learned that some of them did the "giant slalom", "but that was only six gates".

Son did the "massive slalom" and he lost count of the gates. The result was he came in second amongst all those who took part. Most of the group was made up of boys and a few girls from another school who shared the bus and instructors with them.

So, Charlie (from the other school) came in first. He must be at least Year 10 (15 years old). Then came son, Year 6 (aged 10 going 11) followed by another boy from his school (Year 7, age 11 or 12).

As such son is top skier from his school, improving on his overall third position last year (despite being a novice and beating other more experienced skiers). He was also given a silver medal and he was very proud: "My first medal for a sporting event."

(Last year he was given a baseball cap for being top skier in his group (novice) but he managed to lose it at a museum in Singapore. Whoever found it never returned it to the Museum.)

This Friday he expects to be presented with the medal and certificate again by his headmaster at Assembly.

Meanwhile, it's back to the slog with his Grade V Theory Exam looming. He does not have the energy to do another mock exam, and I don't blame him. He just wishes to get it over and done with. Let's hope he is not too careless.

Trivia #1: O! He lost two molars on this trip. Last year he also lost a tooth while on the trip.
Trivia #2: Somewhere along the line his new friend Finn from the other school asked him (while waiting for the chairlift) asked him what his IQ was. So son told him. Finn then shouted to Charlie, "This kid is a genius!" I am still trying to get to why Finn would think to ask a person's IQ.

118 at least it's not 119

2010-04-03T13:03:00.003+01:00

The news was delivered with little fanfare, please don't take too much notice of it mum, and I really am OK about it.

To our utter surprise he did not get a distinction in his clarinet exam, having scored 132 in his mock.

He did not even get a Merit which starts at 120 marks.

"Did you pass?" I was getting a bit worried.

He did pass though, at 118, just two short of a merit.

He mucked up his sight-reading enough to have failed it. Despite a perfect score on his aural, similar scores on his set pieces compared to the last grade, the seismic shift in his sight-reading and a slight dip in scales and arpeggios meant a good pass, that's all.

That made him take stock. He must work on his exams. So far things have been too easy for him. He's been winging it. Then he has a really strict examiner, and he falters.

We hope that this means he would work harder on his sight-reading for his Grade 5 Piano. He needs a distinction to be considered for a scholarship.

Meanwhile he is somewhere between Calais and Saalbach on his first school ski trip. Twenty hours of travelling by coach. Cattle class.

Apparently he found a seat on the coach and quickly bumped his head. He's not used to seats being so close together.

Still waiting for the text that says they have arrived safely.

The colour of money

2010-03-18T09:10:00.003Z

Two significant things happened last week.

Son took his clarinet exam on Wednesday morning. Said, without any fear in his eyes or voice, "I mucked up the sight-reading, but I think it is OK."

In the afternoon he was assigned the task of being the "runner".

He was given a list of names, had to check/sign these names/candidates in, take them to the practice room, and then take them to the exam room in a different building.

This was because his own piano teacher often enters candidates at the school (as a location) and these candidates would not know where to go.

It was interesting that the director of music thought it fit for son to do this job, usually reserved for a boy at least three years older. Add to that the fact that this young man is very shy. Meeting and greeting strangers? Signing them in? Taking them round the school?

The director's risk-taking paid off and from all accounts our son did well.

Best of all, his teacher rewarded him with a £5 note. He was ever so pleased with these first earnings of his. Yesterday we used the £5 note to buy us tickets to the school play (next week).

From son's perspective, the best thing however was being able to miss Maths. He's good at Maths but find the lessons really, really boring.

Friday we drove to his prospective boarding school to meet two prospective Housemasters. We learned that the Housemasters are like the Headmasters. Each is in charge of a House with about 60 boys/young men.

The boys eat three meals at the House, do their prep/homework there, have lots of activities, etc, besides going to classes at the main school. They also have an interesting practice of not having lessons between 2 and 4pm. They boys are all cleared out of the Houses and have to go play games or something else.

At 4pm when we were leaving we saw them back in their suits and hurrying back to classes.

My sister-in-law asked me what their school uniform is like. I have not noticed anything about school uniform on the school website. It turns out that the boys do not have a school uniform. They are just required to dress smartly (ie in a suit/blazer).

They are allowed to walk into the town and because they are dressed no differently from other young men and women, no one would know that they are from the school.

This contrasts greatly with the school up the hill from us with their boaters and what-have-you.

It also appears that son took immediately to one Housemaster. Because this one asked him questions directly, he enjoyed giving the answers.

At one point he was even being cheeky.

We know that he has to pass an interview to get into this school. We were dreading this as while we know our son is full of important and trivial knowledge, talking to strangers is not his favourite activity.

Having seen him chat with this Housemaster and the Deputy Registrar who showed us round the grounds, our fears were laid to rest.

It is going to cost us lots financially to send him to this school. But clearly he wishes to go and we think he is going to enjoy it there.

However when one thinks -- as a stay-at-home mother does -- of all the washing, cooking and cleaning that one needs to do around a teenage boy, we are basically paying for these privileges. It would cost me more to employ a cook and/or cleaner to do this for him (although when I do these tasks, I don't get paid).

Most importantly, teenage boys (and girls) are not going to talk to their parents, are they? So in that sense we were choosing a surrogate parent for him. That way we know he has a role model we can trust.

(One of the Housemasters expressed that he had never looked at it that way.)

So now that we, or actually son, had chosen, it is up to the School/House to decide whether they want him there. We won't know till next year.

Better get on with the application now.

So long and ...

2010-03-02T21:29:00.003Z

Not saying "adieu" but it has been so long since I blogged about this boy.

We had a good Christmas despite my being rather busy and distracted trying to sew and embroider handkerchief orders. I was surprised (in a pleasant sort of way) to be overwhelmed.

We had my niece en route home from Warwick on exchange and son was pleased to have some company. It was fun listening to them both chuckle at Spongebob Squarepants, etc.

At church he was sheep #3 or something at Christmas production. I was stuck at home mostly with a terrible cold. Then I learned that he was asked to do a Scripture reading at the Candlelight service. I could not attend this either as my tinnitus (from the cold) was so bad I wouldn't have coped with the sound levels. From all accounts he was outstanding.

Back at school in January they started working on their ESB (English Speaking Board) Exam. This is something the school has chosen to do with the boys so that they could gain confidence in speaking.

Son had to recite a poem, give a three-minute talk, read a passage from a chosen book and answer questions from the floor, made up of his classmates and their parents.

He decided that his talk was going to be on Philosophy. We worked together on it for a bit. I helped him with the outline. He wrote it out, and then I tidied it up.

This evening we heard him trying to memorize this speech.

There's a drama production at school. He auditioned but said he did not want a major part. A classmate decided that he had to give up his part (poor boy had been in and out of hospital for operations) and the teacher offered the part to my boy.

He gamely took the challenge. This was soon after an episode at school when we had the impression that he was being bullied.

It is always about Games. He has Late Games on Thursdays and he often comes home in tears because of something that happened at Late Games.

On this occasion he was inconsolable and Mum and Dad both found it very upsetting. At the same time he would not name names of the people making him so upset. So we set about thinking up strategies to counter this.

When we had a chance to speak to the Games Master it appeared that our son was just a poor loser. Well, that may be so, but in my books jeering at a failure is not gentlemanly behaviour.

On the whole I am really enjoying this time of his life. I've often said that nine-year-old boys are "silly". Our son is silly, often, but most of the time he is a real delight. We have wonderful conversations, especially at dinner, and these will be precious memories in the future.

At the parent-teacher consultation all the teachers only had good things to say about him. Their challenge is to stretch and extend him.

Son seems to have done very well in that area of late. Either he is not so gifted after all or he has learned to cope much better. He seeks his intellectual stimulation in his own ways, reading science magazines, being one of them.

We've been taking him to ski lessons. He wanted to go on the school ski trip for as long as he has known about it. Desperate to learn to ski because ... James Bond skis. Basically anything Bond could do, he wishes to do. That is why he is keen to learn to fly.

The first lesson was a disaster. Mum and Dad, not having had ski experience at all, did not know how to get his boots on, did not know how to secure the gloves into his sleeves, did not know anything, full stop.

He got snow in his gloves and we saw him fluffing around and Dad, by now furious, was going to take him home straightaway.

Something clicked and he survived that first lesson. Last week he came so close to being able to get onto the main slope. Had it not been for some of the other children in the group holding him and Nat back, they would be able to get onto the main slope at the next lesson.

"Nat", she's the girl in the group of whom son said, later on in the car, "I think I'm in love with her."

We think he is just winding us up.

Still it's one more lesson on the training slope before proceeding to the main slope.

And as a result of ending his ESB speech on "42" (the answer to life, the universe and everything) we started reading The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The film happened to be shown on TV at the same time. Son has watched it several times and has memorized chunks of Stephen Fry's narration.

Son is really growing up. O! Clarinet exam (Grade 3) next week (O no! not again!), and we're all cool about it. Don't panic! Son tells me he knows where his towel is.

So ... THANKS for all the fish!

My boy's got "sticky brains"

2009-11-25T15:41:00.002Z

Driving my son and a school mate back from the sports ground (where they have "Late Games" once a week) I heard them discussing their exam results.

Rewind a little: Despite a half-term break that was not much of a break, despite having to study for his Grade IV Music Theory Exam in the middle of school exams, and despite leaving out -- again -- a whole chunk of revision required for his Geography paper, son achieved very good results. In the 90s with all the papers except English.

So he and B were chatting and comparing results and talking about how difficult Geography was and how they did not have time to finish giving the answers.

Son: I got a whole paragraph wrong, but I went back and sorted it. The last question I had no time to finish.

Friend: What did you get?

Son: Somehow I managed to get about 19 or something out of 20.

Friend: What? That's 90-something per cent.

Son: 95%. I was afraid I'd get 98 or 99 per cent. Last time I got 97 per cent and Mrs W said if I scored any higher she would have to rewrite the whole exam and make it more difficult.

Me: I think Mrs W was only joking.

Son: Yes, she was only joking.

Friend: Why are you so good?

I was thinking, O, no! This is where son would say, "That's because I am clever." Not very modest, that.

Instead I heard after some hesitation: Well, I have a sticky brain. The facts stick to it.

Whew! What a relief?

New Term. New Headmaster

2009-10-03T21:54:00.002+01:00

Quite a change at school, actually with a new Headmaster.

Back four weeks now. How time flies. Another two and we'll be on half-term break already.

School seems OK. Off sick two weeks ago after catching Daddy's cold.

Staying home on Wednesday (missing Fun Choir) and Thursday (missing Games) was not fun at all. I make it a point for him not to "enjoy" much when he's supposed to be unwell. Never give your child an incentive to stay home.

However the new rule at school is if your child is well enough to come to school, he should be well enough to do swimming, PE, and so on. Since son could not cope with either, not being a hundred per cent fit, he opted to stay home. Even when he knew there'd be no TV till after school time.

A bit cross that yesterday another boy asked to swop clarinet lesson time with him and son agreed out of the kindness of his heart. He forgot that he would miss French -- again -- two lessons running.

Told him he is not to swop now for frivolous reasons. Apparently this other boy was given a half-hour catch-up lesson because he was ill. Typically if a child misses the lesson because of illness, he misses it. I don't know how he managed to get his lesson back. None of my business actually.

But when it encroaches on the learning of MY son, I think it is a bit unfair. Both boys had missed lessons due to illness. But why should MY son be disadvantaged by having to miss the same school lesson twice to accommodate another child?

Just us parents being selfish, really.

Son also said piano teacher now thinks he might be able to do Grade V piano in November/December instead of March next year as planned (giving him a long break between exams).

That's on top of his Theory Grade IV in November, on the same day as a school exam. I hope the clarinet teacher is not going to spring the Grade III exam on us as well.

I find it hard to think that my nine-year-old might be attempting his Grade V. But it does not bother him one way or other. He's not pushed. Neither does he seem arrogant about it. No sign of wanting to brag about his achievement. That's a very good sign.

Last week a young friend who was elated about getting a Merit in his Grade I Trombone asked if son had taken any exams yet. Son just quietly replied he's working on his Grade III.

He said he felt it was not right to say anything (like he had a Distinction in Grade I) to take away the joy of his little friend. For a boy who's scored so lowly on "social comprehension", he is definitely improving.

Proud of him.

Cub Camp

2009-09-04T20:49:00.003+01:00

As I write son has just been deposited at his fourth Cub Camp.

For the first time he was reluctant to go.

Turned out that he was told off at the last camp for something that he claimed he did not do -- being the loudest in his tent/room. He was tired and wanted to go to bed but the others were noisy and then a leader came and decided that he was "the loudest" and told him off.

He looked alright as he settled into his tent this evening, so I hope and pray that he would be 'smiles' when we pick him up tomorrow.

He's leaving camp early after the Saturday campfire because he wanted some time to rest before starting school on Monday.

In fact he was not going to this camp at all but the Pack Leader has asked him specifically to go as he is "an important part of the pack".

It's nice to feel wanted. Still I hope he does not get swallowed up by his negativity.

3rd October: Weeks later now. Forgot I had this post on draft. Camp was OK. He's even made friends again with the youth leader who reprimanded him. Turned out he lives on the same street and is now back at university.

Turns out too that son really thinks of him as his "role model".

Having a lovely summer

2009-08-10T19:11:00.004+01:00

Son has been spending time at the holiday club run at his school premises. He enjoys some days more than others.

On the whole I think it is benefitting him. There's plenty for him to do and many boys and girls with whom he could play.

Meanwhile I seem to be working non-stop at one thing or another.

I could be refining embroidery patterns, photographing handkerchiefs or table napkins, putting photographs on the website, etc. One week I spent two whole days just coding in html.

I said to son sixteen hours of coding at £50 an hour would cost -- please work it out -- answer: £800. Dad said it's probably more like £30 an hour. Still that is quite a lot of money.

Anyway the point is I don't have to pay out this sum of money because I do all the coding myself. The £20 I spend on his holiday club is peanuts.

Sometimes there are sales and custom orders I need to take care of. Last week someone ordered nine lilac hankies. I only had one ready-made. So I had to wash, iron and cut fabric as well as hand-sew these hankies very quickly.

Can't sew these "quickly" as such. Each takes up to two hours to complete, depending on the light available. Sometimes it is so hot downstairs I have to work upstairs on a lap-tray!

Then I make hospital visits. A lady at church had suffered a stroke. She's a member of our fellowship group and I feel obliged to visit because she has no relatives in the area. My husband cannot visit as he is afraid of picking up a bug from the hospital.

It is fiendishly expensive to park at the hospital, so I take the bus. I don't usually stay for more than 20 minutes because it is now impossible to communicate with her though she knows exactly what I say. Trip there and back is an hour and a bit.

Sometimes I don't even stop properly for lunch, or forget to take lunch, and wonder why I am so hungry.

Today I was also trying to organize my own appointments to two different hospitals where I have to undergo testing. They now give you a date and time and you simply have to accept it. They wouldn't change anything.

I said it is difficult for me to organize childminding. Sorry, but you have to be seen within six weeks. If we miss the target we'll be in trouble.

That's right: their target is more important than the welfare of the patient.

That just about sums up NHS (Not the Health Service).

Just having a rant.

And son is looking really handsome with his hair allowed to grow longer instead of his usual four-by-two (or is it two by four?).

My 9-11 boy

2009-08-01T19:01:00.002+01:00

That's "nine-to-eleven".

I have this hypothesis -- after having spent many hours interacting with boys at son's school as PTA member/secretary/chairperson -- that boys undergo a 'silly stage' at ages about nine to eleven.

And then as they edge towards 12 and 13 they suddenly learn responsibility, it seems, and become very sensible, thoughtful, and for most at his school, polite.

This is why I think it is better to transfer boys to senior/secondary schools at 13 rather than 11. The extra two years, as the teachers in his school tell me, make such a difference.

When son tells us the jokes that his History teacher tells, for example, and how the boys laugh, I said, "Yes, he's a 9-11 boy."

He laughs at the most silly things, banal jokes and is repetitive to the point of tedium at times. But what is familiar is also comforting. He seems a bundle of contradictions.

Sometimes he loses sleep over the credit crunch and was once found in tears before bed worrying about the world economy, war, etc. Yet he still enjoys Spongebob Squarepants. Right now he's watching -- again -- Indiana Jones, chuckling over the funnies, commentating on the action, and hiding behind cushions when it gets gory.

Then he goes mad over a helium balloon. When we were on holiday he pestered his dad to buy him his first beach ball. (We didn't notice that he's never been given a beach ball as he had all kinds of floats and stuff for use prior to this. A beach ball was what he really, really wanted.)

Thankfully he is still very, very sensible despite being 9-11. He's learning to be very helpful especially after dinner when he helps to clear the dining table. He looks after himself more and more and I am really pleased. I do not wish to mollycoddle him.

He also has this 9-year-old tendency to burp loudly.

Is there anything physiological in this? Someone please tell me.

I remember my nephew who at about eight and nine also used to burp rather frequently and loudly. His visits to us were memorable by the number of times he went, "Pardon me."

Ah, but at least he was polite enough to say that.

My son? He's usually OK, but sometimes he is so comfortable with us his parents he does not remember his manners. Reminding him to form a good H-A-B-IT is another important task.

I don't think parents can ignore the relationship between the physiological and the emotional.

I remember that face when he first sat up (propped up, actually) at four months. Suddenly it seemed he could see so much further and so much more. Life is a bit more than the lights on the ceiling and the stuff that hang from the cot, etc.

As he matures physically, as he is able to handle more practical tasks, he also needs to mature emotionally and learn to use those practical abilities.

I mean what use is a nine-year-old who could handle a sharp knife if mum does all the cooking for him?

After dinner tonight husband said "He is growing up" and it makes him feel old.

I said we must learn to live with it. I anticipate missing him a lot when he goes to boarding school (should he decide to go to boarding school), but that's what I need to get used to. Eventually he would have to leave home.

There comes a time when every parent has to let go. And as I say to my Christian friends we have to "let go and let God".

Summer holiday over

2009-07-17T18:47:00.003+01:00

Today we came back from centerparcs. It's the end of our family summer holiday. Feels strange as the state schools around us are only starting their holiday today.

Holiday started off with my putting my back out. Got down early. Took the washing out and hung it up and might have packed a few things away. Went back upstairs for my shower and found that I could not stand up straight.

The pain was so bad that I had to take painkillers. Thankfully the journey there was comfortable enough. Son was very good.

Got there and had to collect our bikes. Would I be able to cycle?

Answer: yes. It was OK so long as I kept bent over. I was still in too much pain to stand up straight.

We lazed the rest of the day away.

Day Two: I put my feet gingerly on the floor. Would I feel pain if I stood up?

I was able to stand up straight!!! What joy!

There was still some pain, but it was bearable. I didn't need to walk around hunched over.

But I decided not to do the ten-pin bowling as planned. Husband however remained competitive. Son was devastated by his poor performance. (He refused to use the gutter guards and had many gutter balls.)

Son suffers from an attitude problem. Came to a point where husband was so fed up he was ready to walk out. Somehow we (the boys) managed to keep going.

Son persevered grudgingly. When he was good (or 'lucky'?) he scored the most amazing points, but most of the time he decided to hurl the ball into the gutter.

I could 'talk' but could not do much. When husband tired out I played a few of his frames and did OK. I had to show son that despite my temporary disability that it's not simply brute force (think husband/dad) that matters.

That was perhaps the worst bit of the break. Thankfully he became more positive after this. We swam, played bowls (only husband had done this before), table tennis, etc. and had a great time.

We enjoyed the food -- no cooking for me, yay! -- and were blessed by good weather.

Aches and pains we had many but in the end I could celebrate at least that son had gained so much confidence in his biking skills. He moved from a trailer ("Faster! Daddy, faster!) to a tricycle which he rammed into the bike ranks, to a bike with stabilizers, and now a real 20" bicycle.

He was also incredily confident in the water and enjoyed the 'waves' and the big slides. And the amount of food he ate. ... scary!

Seven more weeks of son at home before school starts. Just as well he's booked into holiday club for some of this time!

Last Day of School

2009-07-05T13:09:00.002+01:00

Went for the Leavers Service. This is the school chapel service dedicated to the Form VI boys leaving for senior school. It is quite an emotional time for the parents whose sons have been at the school for some time.

I like going to the service to pray for the boys, some of whom I know better than others. They each go up for a special blessing from the School Chaplain whatever faith (or none) that they may or may not have. I saw proud parents taking photos of this moment.

So pleased that in such an overtly Christian school they have managed to integrate pupils from such diverse cultural and religious backgrounds.

Then we moved swiftly from the Chapel to the Hall for the final Headmaster's Assembly. As the Headmaster was leaving this was his final final assembly.

More certificates were given out. Son was given his Excellent Work in Drama Certificate and Good Work badge. He later showed me his certificate for Class Champion in Chess given out earlier in the morning and the Headmaster finally returned his Chief Scout's Silver Award to him then as well.

"Goodbyes" were said to boys leaving, migrating and going on long holidays.

Another school year had flown by so quickly. In a few weeks' time son would start at the top form of his 'Middle School' and having to get used to putting stuff in lockers and organizing his day, taking exams in the main hall, taking on more responsibilities, etc. etc.

It's great to see these young people growing up.

Speech/less Day

2009-07-02T20:53:00.002+01:00

Lazy morning. Hot.

Managed to all pile into the car at 1.21pm as planned. Found a convenient parking space. Yoohoo!

Proceedings bearable.

Then as we headed out of the church son came running back in. He had lost one of his Prize envelopes (with store voucher inside).

A couple of minutes later we saw him again. He had two envelopes in his hand.

Then as we got to the door, he was seen running in again. He had forgotten his water bottle.

I waited while the rest got to the car to get it started up, etc. Son came out, couldn't find water bottle. Maybe he didn't take it out of the car at all.

And just as I was about to say "Let's get to the car."

"O! I've lost one envelope again."

!!!!!

So I waited as he went in to try to retrieve his 'Instrumental Music Award' which only minutes before I had seen in his hand.

Back he came, couldn't find it.

I don't remember what I said but it obviously upset him. It's one of those "whatever I say will be wrong" moments. So I stopped trying.

When we got home he refused to return to school for the reception.

"What if someone has found your stuff and is waiting to hand it back to you?"

He came reluctantly and only some time later lightened up enough to have something to eat. Then he realized that there was some really good grub about and ate some more.

I don't know. This kid drives me mad sometimes. What was supposed to be a happy occasion he had to make into something not-so-happy with his strop. It was not as if anyone had chided him for losing a water bottle, or his award.

Favourite song at the moment, Africa by Toto after we heard and saw this, courtesy of Ginney at Straits Times Press. It's really quite amazing. These are Slovenians, but their English is so good. Definitely better than my Slovenian.

Enjoy!

Speech Day Tomorrow/Victor Cup

2009-07-01T21:45:00.002+01:00

Nanny's arrived (with her partner) for the event.

Weather's been so hot the boys have been told to be in 'shirt-sleeve order'. No blazers, no ties, no caps.

Yesterday son took part in the Victor Cup. This is the premium open swimming event at school. Boys swim two lengths each of backstroke, breast-stroke, butterfly and front crawl. They are not separated into age groups. Last year the event was won by a 10/11-year-old.

Son is not the strongest swimmer. In fact no matter how hard he seems to be trying his performance is not rated at anything above C (which is average).

Pick-up time he told me he came in third in his group (Form II). But there were only three boys in the race.

I was really chuffed by his attitude.

I was actually most surprised by the fact that only two boys (the third was from a lower Form who could not swim with that Form because of a nosebleed, but who actually beat the two Form II boys) in his Form took part.

One boy is superior to the others in swimming (his mum teaches swimming as well) and swam with Form III. No surprise there. He won his round.

But there are other boys in Form II who are very good in Sport. Why did they not take part?

Son entered the competition knowing he did not stand a tiny chance of winning, but he took the plunge (pun intended) and went for it.

It made up for his disappointment for not being able to take part in the Swimming Gala last week due to his burn wound.

I reminded him of how proud I am of him.

Sports Day, Chess, Swimming Gala

2009-06-25T21:05:00.002+01:00

Sports Day on Tuesday went really well. Weather was perfect: dry, warm, but not too hot with a gentle breeze.

Son did well again coming in third in the 50m House heats. So last year's third place was not a fluke. It was great to see the determination on his face when he ran. The first four get to do the Inter-House relay.

Sadly there were fumbles on baton changes and their team only came in second in the Inter-House relay. They could have been first by a mile. Even then I was proud that he did not give up when the baton first dropped at his changeover.

200m final saw him running with the best runners in his Form. He was doing so well and I thought he would get a bronze, but no, he was pipped at the post. Still he beat two of the best athletes in his Form. Unbelievable.

Tennis throw wasn't very good, I was told. His long jump was very credible, and showed good technique with the plastic javelin (which is rubbish). The highlight for me was the 'parents' javelin' as a few of us sweet-talked the teacher into letting us have a go. I think I won that one!

Back at school son's been playing Inter-House Chess competition. He won in his class today, beating his best friend. He now goes on to play the other class champion in his Form. It's quite tedious.

I've been stressed out by the swimming gala. Not because son is taking part or not want to take part. He managed to walk into an iron I had left to cool off on Sunday. The wound seemed to be healing and then yesterday appeared weepy again.

Son wants so much to play his part in the swimming gala, but we're not too sure if he should go into the water.

Managed to see a nurse late this evening. We were given some waterproof dressing and Mum (ie. me) would dress the wound and keep the dressing in place with a bandage tomorrow.

Let's hope he gets the chance to swim.

This article about competition in school is very interesting and apposite: Ed Balls, you can't win by banning competition

Meanwhile his current song is "O, What a Circus!" from Evita. He's heard it so many times being done by Cantabile. This week we got the lyrics off the Net and he just won't stop with the "Salve, salve, regina" part.

My consolation is: the top athletes in his Form have a long way to go to catch up with him in the academic subjects. So to see him at the heels of these athletes on Sports Day has made me feel very Small (as in Heather Small), ie. proud.

He now has a habit of just coming in fourth. If only he could just medal. That would be the icing on the cake for him.

Chief Scout' Silver Award

2009-06-22T09:19:00.003+01:00

Woohoo! He's got it! We've been told he has completed this and will be given this, the highest award available in the Cub Scout section, at the AGM last Friday.

Unfortunately he had a school trip which meant very long days on Thursday, overnight at the Shrine of Walsingham, pilgrim procession which meant bed after 10pm and a 5am start on Friday because a roommate was snoring very loudly, etc. etc. Coupled with the mix-up over when we should be picking him up, he was physically and mentally exhausted and decided to not attend that meeting.

Actually he was distraught, but I think this had much to do with his physical exhaustion.

He'd be presented with his badge soon, I'm sure.

"A" Team, at last

2009-06-08T20:11:00.003+01:00

Son was very excited when I picked him up last Friday. He had been picked to run in the 'A' team for Sports Day. They had done qualifying runs some times back and his time was good enough to go into the 'A's'.

In everything else -- football, rugby, hockey, cricket -- he's been in the C's or B's. So this is great encouragement to him.

I've never thought of him as a runner as such. Having said that he surprised everyone by coming in third in his qualifying race on Sports Day last year. But there is great competition amongst the boys. All the best to him.

On Wednesday last week husband and I met with his Form teacher. There was very little she could tell us. Everything was good with him, it seemed.

He appears to have lots of friends. His writing is flowing. His vocabulary and grasp of the English language is good. He shows great maturity of thought, for example, when it came to writing about the one object he would take with him if he were going to the Arctic. A warm hat was his choice whilst his classmates were bringing their PS1 and PS2's.

OK.

His Form teacher is new to the school. When we noted that son refused to write two years ago because he thought his handwriting was not good enough, she was surprised. No one seemed to have briefed her on that.

Well, we noticed that with the new teachers at school, son does not come with any 'baggage'.

Which explains why the new Drama teacher gave him the starring part in the class play earlier this year. A far cry from being given four lines when he asked for a 'main part' previously.

To be fair he is not a 'natural' actor. Just as he is not a 'natural' footballer. But he is extremely capable in learning lines, and when he's given good acting directions, would follow it to the letter. Suits some types of directors more than others, I guess.

Still, he confessed to shedding a few tears on Friday when he was being very quiet after swimming. We are used to him "getting into the zone".

There are times when he would 'blank' and seems in a world of his own. It happens before he performs on the piano. It happens when he has a serious thought or when he tries to work out some complicated connection. It happens any where, sometimes at dinner table.

His classmates noticed he was very quiet. But boys being boys they could not leave him alone. Someone said to another, "LT is crying."

He was not, but when others started echoing that same comment, he did indeed cry.

He has to learn that he could tell this people: sometimes people wish to be quiet and think about something rather serious.

Ah, well.

Just eat!

2009-05-29T20:58:00.002+01:00

Fridays are difficult days to cook for. Typically I cook two meals for the evening. One for son before he gets to Cubs, and another meal for when husband gets back and we eat together.

Today, being half-term and no cubs, it was just a fried rice with some fresh prawns (from our local fishmonger), using up food left over from previous meals. Dessert was all the fruit left in the fridge topped with a crumble, with some broken digestive biscuits thrown in.

As we served up dessert, son went on about "whether custard is a colloid".

O! Just eat!

PS: Custard IS a colloid.

An interesting day

2009-05-28T21:29:00.004+01:00

Yesterday son had a play date with a female friend from church.

She's only six years old, very intelligent, and the two seemed to get on really well.

Her family are just back from from East Asia after several years teaching out there. We had lunch with them some months ago and we noticed these two highly intelligent children got on very well.

We had been clearing/sorting son's Lego. You wouldn't think any one child could have so much Lego. Anyway, instead of chocolates we decided that son would give her a bag of Lego bricks.

He packed a reasonable number of pieces, with all sorts of shapes of bricks, with mini-figures and all. Very generous of him, really.

Young lady friend was delighted. Her parents had packed her Lego away and couldn't find them after the house move! She noted too that she only had basic pieces and son gave her a very good selection of different types.

Today I asked him if he felt a bit lonely being an only child. A bit, he said.

Would he like to 'adopt' this little girl as her 'sister'.

"I don't think she's up for adopting," he said.

You have to laugh. I said, "You know, we could do things together with her. Go visit places, etc."

I think his response was "maybe".

PS: Also learned from young lady's mum that it is not 'politically correct' to say that my son is classified as 'SEN'. In an ordinary school he would be on the 'G&T' register. But since the school does not have a 'G&T' list, he is 'SEN' and the school has bent over backwards to help him.

Must participate more!

2009-05-24T14:44:00.002+01:00

Report cards came back.

Son shows consistently good results but most of the teachers indicate that he does not put in his best effort and all say that he could participate more in class.

So I mentioned that at one meal time. His response?

He does participate, but it gets a bit embarrassing to be giving all the right answers. He does not wish to show his friends up.

Dad says, you let the teachers worry about that.

For a young man for whom tests have shown that he lacks social comprehension, his sensitivity towards his classmates is to be lauded, I think.

The teacher has indicated that he gets on with everyone in class and is well respected. How long would this continue if he does, as the teachers expect, to put his hand up to give all the correct answers, or even incorrect ones?

The plan now is at least for half a term he participates as much as possible, regardless of what his mates might think of him.

He's also getting a bit tired of being made to play the piano at school music classes, he says. "It would be nice if I could play the glockenspiel (spelling?). "But because he is the most proficient pianist he gets the job of doing that. Never mind.

He is revelling in how everyone wants to be on his team when it comes to anything to do with music.

Blogger trouble

2009-05-14T20:09:00.003+01:00

Believe it or not! My Organic-Ally blog has been flagged as a SPAM blog.

Very funny.

Got a message from the Google folks and I thought: how do I know THEIR email was genuine. Ha!

Any way, since this blog is about my son I thought I should repeat what I had posted there (tried to, any way) over here as well.

====================

It's good to talk ... listen

On Tuesday I heard a BBC programme in the afternoon (hands on the sewing machine, ears to the radio, that's multi-tasking?) which made me feel completely vindicated about not letting my son watch TV for the first two years of his life.

Well, not all TV, but children's TV. He was allowed to watch sport and news.

The psychologist (Arik Sigmund) on the programme confirmed my hunch that children's TV is bad for the developing baby/toddler brain.

According to scientific studies children who watched 'educational DVDs' were not any better in their comprehension and vocabulary when compared to those who watched The Simpsons and Oprah Winfrey. The only group with superior ability were "those who watched none of those but simply incidentally hear background conversation of their parents with others".

He concluded that listening which forces us to 'paint pictures in our mind' is better at fostering cognitive development. Well, there!

I remember feeding my baby with the radio tuned to BBC Radio 4. It often took an hour to nurse him at each feed. When he was a little older we 'invested' in CDs which told stories. There was even one which adapted Shakespeare themes.

Growing up in a rather poor family where we could not afford the TV -- my father justified it by saying it did us no good, and he was right -- our entertainment was of listening and reading.

There was Rediffusion ( a wired service, cheap to subscribe to) which gave us programmes in Mandarin, Cantonese and English, including BBC programmes. In the evenings we sat down to do homework, listened to drama on Rediffusion (usually a detective, a soppy soap, or a ghostly tale) and when that was done, Mum would play some of her Cantonese opera on tape (she had recorded this off the Rediffusion).

She sang along with the opera, and we learned to do much the same!

Only when I was sixteen when a grown-up cousin decided that he had had enough of his old black and white TV and passed it on to us was I able to watch myself on TV. Yes, I used to appear on TV as part of the school band at 'Central Judging', Youth Festival, or even in special recordings with the Singapore Schools Orchestra (where I played the trombone) but always needed to go to a neighbour's house to do that.

I don't think living without TV did me any harm. Indeed it forced me to 'paint pictures in my mind' and I was determined that my son would share the same privilege.

Coincidentally when I met him at school later that day son showed me his exam results and I had another pleasant surprise. He sat exams in English, Maths, Science, History, Geography, Religious Studies and attained 90-something percent in all, with 100% in English Comprehension.

Last night we worked out his average as 96% compared to a class average of 69%. Vindicated once again.

Mr Hot Cross Buns

2009-05-10T22:24:00.003+01:00

It's been a lovely weekend. I am tired and should be asleep, but I feel I must plod on.

Son's had a whole week of exams (in the mornings) and busy in the afternoon with his usual activities. He also had 8.30am music lessons on Wednesday and Thursday for otherwise his teachers could not fit in his clarinet and piano lessons.

Friday he tells us that he had been asked to replace one of the senior boys to perform on the piano on Saturday for prospective parents at the school open day. Cool.

He was up right early Saturday morning because he best mate was expected before they both had to go to school to perform with the Fun Choir.

The purpose for their performance was to showcase what the boys get up to so that prospective parents would go "wow" and send their children to us.

After the Headmaster's (long) speech in which he referred to saving the best for last, the school's best pianist (Form 5 boy) was called to perform. We reckon he was playing a piece from his Grade 6 syllabus.

Then son got up to announce he was going to play "Hot Cross Buns". There were audible sniggers and I thought, "O no! How dare they laugh? This would put him off."

He played his Hot Cross Buns, a swing version with intricate chords and rhythm, flawlessly, much to my relief. After that several parents remarked how impressed they were. After all, he's only nine (in Form 2) three years younger than the best pianist and four years younger than the senior boy he stood in for.

He told us later that when he heard the audience laugh he nearly said, "but not as you know it", and thought he must play it so well that no one would laugh after that.

A bit of Susan Boyle there.

Boy done good, and we are, as usual, immensely proud of him.

Merit in Piano

2009-04-28T12:21:00.003+01:00

Ah, no! He proved me wrong. Last Friday he told me at pick-up, "I've got 124 in Piano exam."

And I let off the loudest scream I've screamed for a long time. (Actually I don't usually scream at all, it's true, I'm a rather repressed person!)

Why? On the morning of the exam he could not play his scales properly. He was going, "I don't want to do the exam."

We're now looking forward to his Piano concert at school in a couple of weeks' time.

Distinction in Music Theory

2009-04-09T20:18:00.001+01:00

Head of Music phoned us this afternoon to say son had attained 97% in his Grade Three Music Theory exam which is a Distinction.

Excellent!

Just the Piano result to go now, which I suspect is going to be a Pass.

Merit in Clarinet

2009-04-04T11:17:00.003+01:00

End-of-term assembly yesterday and he was awarded his Band badge as well as being presented with his Grade 2 Clarinet Certificate (ABRSM) with Merit. On the whole the boys had done very well with two boys gaining distinctions (one in Grade 1 Oboe and one in Grade 5 Trumpet).

Have I mentioned that he was fantastic Mr Fox in the school production? I had lots of mums come up to me to say how wonderful they thought he was. I was embarrassed because I didn't know all their names. Most of the parents know me/us from when I was chair of the PTA.

Grade cards also came home and it was A1 and A2 in all academic subjects with Bs in Games and PE and C in Swimming. BUT, big BUT, no '3' in Effort.

Boy done good, we thought. We are not concerned with the 2's in some subjects (like Maths) which indicates that he does not actually put much of an effort in it. This next term's grades will be based on exams, I think. There is revision to do this term break.

Can't wait!!!

As if.

4:24

2009-04-03T17:56:00.002+01:00

Cross Country was run on Wednesday and son's new improved time is 4 minutes 24 seconds. Eighth in his Form. (His time was 5:55 last year but we're not sure if the distance was exactly the same.)

His House came in first overall. Well done!

This was what I wrote for the school bulletin whether it gets published or not:

Cogito ergo ~~sum~~ run (I think, therefore I run)

There’s no [bulletin] for the last week of the Lent Term, but I feel I have to write this, even if it only goes to print in the Trinity Term.

With a few other parents I was at the Cross Country. Overheard:

Mother 1: J was not keen on his breakfast this morning.

Mother 2: Our lot (6+) cannot do the distance.

Me: O yes! They’ll be alright.

They were ALL alright. I believe everyone who started finished, and that is very good.

The small group of parents were cheering every boy on, whether or not we knew their names. By the end of the session we had very painful palms and quite sore throats.

What was heartening was to see the young men stay the course. Not all are Haile Gebrselassie-shaped. Running for a bus/train might be a struggle, let alone the distances some of these young men were doing.

Several stopped after a lap or two and thought they could get away with it, but Mr B coaxed them on and somehow from somewhere deep inside them, they found the reserve to cross the finish line, running.

I think distance-running builds character. Training for such distances requires great discipline and is a lonely business (I know this only too well). Quite often it is a question of mind over matter (ie legs of stone). It gives one time to think, and one must think to finish. When so much of modern life is ‘instant everything’, staying the course when the going gets tough is a lesson that distance-running helps us to learn.

I was less interested to see who finished in medal positions as to observe how those who are not quite 2012 material (or 2016, 2020, etc) completed the course, many in some degree of pain. To these young men: you have done it once, you can do it again. Remember what a certain quiz-master used to say, “I’ve started so I’ll finish.”

One word of advice to the more competitive runners: Pace.

Many thanks to Mr B and other staff for organizing this event. Perhaps we could have a few more parents to join the cheer team next year???

P.S. How does one say ‘run’ in Latin?

Exam stress

2009-03-10T13:28:00.002Z

Has it really been more than a month since I posted?

Last week was chock-a-block.

Monday morning I helped to take son's Form (two classes with total of 26 boys) to the Barbican on the Tube. They were to attend a special concert by the LSO introduced by Gareth Malone (recently on TV about boys who won't sing).

They were one adult short and as I had volunteered to help before (being CRB checked and all that) was called upon to do my turn. Enjoyed the experience though I found the sergeant-major emerging in me.

The boys were given partners for the day. The teachers forgot what I think is another important rule or two:

do not talk with a person walking behind you, and
always stay not more than two paces behind persons in front of you.

I was bringing up the tail and found myself saying/shouting, many times, "Boys! Eyes front. Keep up!"

Somehow in the middle of the line you would get one or two who kept turning to the person behind (maybe they didn't like the partner they were allotted) to talk. They start lagging one step, then two, then three behind. Soon there will be a great break in the line and a teacher shouts for them. They run to keep up. So must I, in my heels.

Bah!

On the whole the boys were a good bunch and I enjoyed the time with them even though it was a bit noisy. Why is it that nine-year-olds cannot wait their turn to speak? Why do they all have to ask questions and make statements together?

Tuesday, late pick-up because son was at drama rehearsal. He was not pleased that his class didn't get to do much as the other class took such a long time to read their lines.

There was to be a String Concert at school. Son planned to go to support his friend performing for the first time. But he realized that he was too tired and there was too much homework. We stayed home. The rain thrashed down.

Wednesday was Fun Choir. He survived that and enjoyed the chocolates given out after the event. (He hates it when they get given those haribo sweets instead.) He also managed to fall badly at play time and sustained cuts on both palms and bruises elsewhere.

After bath we slopped/slapped on the savlon and magnesium. He had been cleaned up a bit at school but there was clearly still lots of dirt left. We call magnesium 'happy cream'. To keep the bedding clean we decided to bandage his hands.

Thursday was fraught.

8.30am piano lesson. We had been trying to get a swop because of his long day but it was impossible. Apparently this then got cancelled as he didn't manage his arpeggios with his hands in bandage.

3.00pm I had my turn at the Uniform Shop. Supposed to finish at 4pm. 4.04pm when I was 'cashing up', some parent wanted something for his son. Straight-forward transaction, I thought. But he made such a fuss over paying, etc, etc. It wasn't 4.15pm before I managed to get stuff back to the School Office.

Looked in at Late Class to see whether my son needed help with his revision as he sits Music Theory exam at 4.30pm. The Late Class teacher didn't know where he was. A classmate said Mr E mentioned "exam".

OK. Nobody seemed to know where he was. But as I had seen Mr E's car by the shop I suspected that he was not at games that afternoon and decided to start son's exam earlier.

I trudged home. 4.25pm. Put the kettle on to make myself a cup of tea. Removed my coat. Phone rang.

Son on the line saying he had finished his music theory exam, could I come fetch him?

Back to the school. No sign of him. Found him upstairs in Mr E's classroom grinning from ear to ear. Exam regulation was he could not leave till 35 minutes after the start of the exam. OK, time up, he could go as Mr E started him at 4pm.

Either my son is a genius who answered all his questions correctly and quickly or he has done very poorly. Who knows?

Poor chap still had a whole lot of homework to complete.

Friday morning. I had written a note to Mr E to explain why he had not completed his homework. But son decided to complete his h/w after breakfast. And did.

Only Toddlers group for me to look after this morning and Cubs for him in the evening. And the optometrist and music shop to buy more clarinet reeds.

Finished school at 3.45pm. Yay!!

What a week!

Snowed under

2009-02-07T16:26:00.002Z

By and large, son has been happy. However he was most upset after he returned from a school trip at the beginning of term. Something, someone, or both, had upset him. Something was building up and somehow it had to be vented. Mum copped it. As always.

There were moans about Maths: too slow in his normal class and too fast in his special class. He was so unhappy that a note to the school was required. Then all of a sudden, he was as happy as could be again.

But I do worry about the Maths. It's part of the National Curriculum Nurmeracy strategy that these children now learn about a dozen ways of adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing. Last week he came home with the question, "How do you divide 72 by 6 by splitting 72?"

In our time we would instantly know 72 divded by 6 is 12. Which son knows, too, of course. The exercise however was to 'split' 72 into two numbers to make it 'easier' to divide.

Thus '35 divide by 5' can be worked as '30+5 divided by 5'. 30 divided by 5 is 6. The remaining 5 divided by 5 is 1. Add 6 + 1, you get 7. So 35 divided by 5 gives you 7.

Why???

Any way, so how does one split 72 to divide into 6? He decided it would be 70/6= 11 and 4/6 (2/3). Then remainder of 2/6 = 2/6 (1/3). Total: 12. Clearly anyone who could manage the 1/3 and 2/3 do not need to split the 72 in the first place.

Then Mum had a brainwave while trying to get to sleep. Maybe they wanted the boys to split 72 into 60 + 12. Thus 60/6=10 and 12/6=2. Total: 12.

No wonder he was bored and frustrated in class. Last Thursday he had his special Maths class (which he does with the stronger 'mathematicians' from his class and the class one year up). "Guess what?" (He was all smiles.) "We started on algebra!"

Hurray!

He's been asking to start on algebra for a long time but got confused every time I tried to start him off. Today he knew instantly when I said if son is x years old and he was born when Mum was 39, then Mum's age (y) will always be x+39. Sorted!

There was the snow from last week. Lots of lessons learned in the snow.

Physics: why do we need to press the snow down to make a snowball? What does the snowball make a sound when you roll it?

Maths/Physics: how does the size of the snowball vary with the distance it can be thrown (and the force needed to throw it)? What is the optimum size for a snowball if it is to be thrown?

Philosophy: "You call this work? I call this fun!" OK, so "why do prisons NOT work?". Prisoners have too much fun.

Cognitive anthropology: "This is powder snow." "This is wet snow." Why do you think Eskimos have different terms for different kinds of snow? (Why does London Underground only have the "wrong kind of snow"???)

PE: Hitting snowballs with rackets. Watching them disintegrate, or not. Rolling on the snow. Fun.

The afternoon was spent doing 'Business Studies' ... playing Monopoly with Dad who spent many hours on the Tube and had to turn back because the trains were not going any where near his place of work.

Music exams: too much. He has been entered for Clarinet Grade 2, Music Theory Grade 3, Piano Grade 4.

I am furious about the Piano as I'm now told that if he does not do it in March, the syllabus changes and he would have to learn three new pieces. I had told the teacher not to start him on exams till he has had a term of rest playing fun music. He insisted on starting him on the old syllabus. Why?

Thankfully son is game to do Grade 4. Dad has now given him a new incentive.

We started him on theory, thinking that it would help him enjoy his music a bit more. To an extent this is true, but the exercises are tedious. Again I was not keen for him to do exams. Again the teacher said he could do it.

On top of this, son has been given the part of 'Mr Fox' (Fantastic Mr Fox, Roald Dahl) in their class drama. He has lots of lines to learn.

But of course he comes up with something like, "I like the pressure." O, well, we'll see.

Boring stuff

2008-12-28T17:09:00.002Z

Another end of term. Another Advent Service. Another end-of-term concert.

Another good report from school. Son was over the moon that his grades for Religious Studies (consistently at C last year) is now an A. There were no exams, written work, etc. He was being judged on his 'performance' in class. Son does not like participating when he does not know the answers.

What irked him most was that 'Religious Studies' was more 'History' to him. This boy likes to call a spade and spade.

In PE, too, he was rewarded with better grades than his previous C's. Though he is not in the 'A' team, etc, it appears that his attitude, performance, effort, etc. have really improved. An 'A'. Good lad! We already knew he was third in the whole form for 'agility' and his 'beep test' also shows that he is above average for his age. Good lad!

However we were surprised that he was not awarded his Band badge. He took it very well. I was amazed. Perhaps the Band Master requires a longer service period before they get their badges. The point is, he did not cry over his disappointment.

He also started on Music Theory lessons. He was chuffed as it was clear that it was all about Maths. The teacher put him through a Grade One paper and he would have breezed it.

Next lesson in the new year. Question is: would he do his theory homework?? Watch this space.

What do boys talk about?

2008-12-10T15:11:00.002Z

Some time ago I was alarmed to learn that a friend's son was teased out of playing a role in a school play.

This boy was discovered to be able to sing. So the teacher gave him a part. But he has to partner someone in this, a girl.

It didn't take long for the poor boy to be teased about how this girl likes him. He got so embarrassed that he decided to resign his role.

Then it occurred to me as to why boys tease. Or more specifically, why ten-year-old boys tease.

Because they are not disposed to discussing the latest in politics, religion (probably frowned upon by the authorities, any way), quantum physics or existential philosophy.

That leaves them with football, maybe something else on TV and then as soon as they run out of topics for discussion, Ah! we could say silly things about so-and-so.

These are usually said with no malice at all. It's akin to those 'staring incidents'. No, I was not staring at you, but my eyes need to rest on something and it happens to be you and so you thought I was staring.

The boys know that "So-and-so likes so-and-so" is groundless, but it gives them something to say.

I remember mulling over the issue of gossip in sheltered housing for older people. Why do they speak such utter nonsense about their equally elderly neighbours? Because they simply have nothing better to do.

This morning a boy from the other class in the Form came up to my son while I was still with him to say, "LT, LT, I saw so-and-so and so-and-so having a very loud argument."

We witnessed some of that ourselves and in fact so-and-so had spoken to me (ex-PTA Chair) to vent some of his frustration.

I said to that young man, "There is no need to repeat such information. Nobody else needs to know."

He gave me a funny look. This was 'Mr Bossy' himself and he does not like being told what he could or could not do.

My son reiterated my point, "Remember, never again," as Mr Bossy stalked off.

Does it matter that Mr Bossy witnessed an unpleasant exchange of words? How does it add to his life to go around telling other boys this?

Apart from the fact it gives him an excuse to verbalize something and perhaps hold court for a few more seconds than he really deserves.

My son comes home from school sometimes distraught that some boys had been teasing him.

Once it was about a photograph. The French teacher wanted a picture of his extended family. The only one conveniently available showed him about four years younger, sitting on his Nanny's knees.

They teased him about being a baby.

When I got round to telling him what silliness this was as everyone was once a baby, he realized that it was not worth the tears. It was ignorance on the part of the boys more than anything else.

To be very honest, my son is much happier discussing, uhm, Descartes.

Son got talent

2008-12-01T11:38:00.002Z

Before the euphoria fades away ....

Last Friday we had the school fair. I was roped in at the last minute to man the sweets stall. Big mistake.

When the boys came in, there was such a rush. I have seen much better behaviour at soup queues.

I put it down to the fact that these boys are rather 'deprived'. They are not usually allowed the wide array of E-numbers now in front of me. But this is a fundraising fair and their parents had actually given them money to buy stuff they are not allowed to eat at home. I have now to write a report to the Chairman of the PTA about the next sweets stall.

Then we (husband, son and I) battled the traffic on the M25 to our church weekend away. Husband somehow managed to persuade son to bring along his clarinet as there was to be a talent show.

No, he was not not about to take part. Then he was. Then the paper to register went missing. Then he found the youth pastor who had that bit of paper. Then he did not know how long his piece would take. Then Mum had to time him singing the tune in his head.

So come Saturday evening, item #5 was our son playing 'Stranger on the Shore' (Bilk) unaccompanied to an audience of about 100. We could hear a pin drop. When he stopped the place erupted into applause for some time.

One of the judges (someone dressed in a Kangeroo costume) 'said' via her interpreter (another judge, leader of the young people's activities) that it reminded her of a didgeridoo. Her interpreter said the only shortcoming was he was not playing to a larger audience. Can't remember what the third judge said.

In the end, after much laughter and brave attempts by other acts, son was declared the winner and won -- for keeps -- a trophy which once stood on someone's birthday cake. He was delighted.

Lots of people came to congratulate this shy young man who is coming out of his shell (he even heckled the other performers) and he went to bed very happy.

The theme for the weekend was Joseph (his talents, training, fulfilling God's plan for his own people, etc), and once again we are talking about how our son might choose to use his gifts.

Meanwhile I will replay over and over again those three minutes that he played to that audience who listened so attentively.

High Society

2008-11-27T12:09:00.003Z

Last week was a busy week. Just out of exams in the previous week, son and mates were rehearsing very hard for their music production which was a mish-mash of Broadway musicals and films.

They performed first on Thursday evening and then again on Friday evening.

On the way to school on Friday a parent told him what a star he was. O! OK.

At pick-up time another parent said how much she enjoyed the show and when she realized that I hadn't seen it said, "O! Then I won't spoil the surprise for you."

Friday evening, mum, dad and godfather trekked down to school. Another parent greeted me with, "He's got the best American accent." O!

And so we saw our eight-year-old in an oversize waistcoat act as a very drunk reporter (Mike Conner) confronting CT Dexter Haven in High Society. I think the other parents were being very kind when they heaped him with praise. But they know how shy this young man is and for him to do what he did was very much stepping out of his comfort zone.

Well done! (And we await a visit from the Social Services to find out how he learned to act so drunk!)

This is more fun than the 100% in Maths exam, son.

Talking money and cents

2008-11-10T16:11:00.004Z

Since the last post so much has happened.

Son went to his second Cubs camp and had a good time, winning the x-Factor title, whatever this entailed. He also climbed to the top of the climbing wall, which apparently is the tallest in this country. Quite a feat, I think, especially when Mum finds it difficult to even get up a ladder.

He's also really taken to the drama production and is speaking a reasonable American accent (being the Reporter in High Society, did you evah?)

Last Saturday we took him to a fireworks party. It was at the second manse. The house was more or less gutted to make major renovations possible. There was a pile of wood that needed burning. Hence the bonfire and fireworks idea.

Someone brought 'glow sticks'. They soon lost their glow. I said, "Ah! If you could find a way of reviving the glow, then you could be making a lot of money."

"No, I won't. Because people would then buy just one stick and not over and over again!"

How true.

This came a day or so after our discussion on a similar topic, I forget what, match-sticks, I think, about how businessmen always want people to buy their product over and over again. So a match-stick that could last forever is not any good to such people.

This morning he struggled with his school trousers. Some 'smart person' has decided that to make the waistline flexible boys trousers should have an elastic band with slits in it so that the waistline could be adjusted by putting a button through one of these slits on the bands (usually one on each side).

I have struggled so hard to find him some organic cotton school trousers. Every where else is selling teflon-coated trousers and he is not happy wearing those. But organic cotton trousers are expensive and to persuade parents to part with their money, sizes usually cover two years of age/growth, a range of six cm on each size.

Now if us grown-ups have a waistline that varies by a whole six cm (that is nearly two-and-a-half inches) we would be buying clothes one size or two bigger/smaller. So you can imagine how long these elastic bands run on both sides.

These bands and the buttons that protrude cause a lot of discomfort to my son who is already super-sensitive to clothes labels. We have cut away countless labels and he sometimes wears socks inside out because they are more comfortable, etc. etc. So he moans, and I moan, "Why can't the manufacturer put in a proper waist-band?"

I said, "This way they 'last' longer and parents are happier to buy the trousers ."

Son retorted immediately, "No, they make less money, because people need to buy less. If they are clever they should make trousers that fit properly. Then the parents would have to spend more money buying new trousers."

Quite.

When one pair of his trousers are £12.99 compared with two for £8.00 at the shops, it is not easy finding a price that would compromise size, price and comfort.

Still, I am surprised that he is so sensitive to such ideas.

A cow stick guitar

2008-10-23T10:24:00.002+01:00

Son's on holiday this fortnight. Husband's taken the week off. Our 'family holiday' means waking up late and doing things together, not getting away to another sunny space like I know many of his school mates are doing.

We went to Stonehenge yesterday -- which incidentally was beautifully sunny, if cold -- and on the journey there I heard mumbled statements from behind me about most of the boys in the Form below him taking up the guitar, and he would like to play 'a cow stick guitar'.

Me: A cow stick guitar? What's one of those? Tell me about it and I'll see what I can do.

Son: You know, all the other boys are playing electric guitar because the guitar teacher is trying to form a rock band. I want to play a cow stick guitar.

Suddenly the lights came on. I realized he meant the -- are you ready? --"acoustic guitar".

A cow stick guitar is not, after all, something you stick together with cow glue and a few rubber bands stretched over a fingerboard of sorts.

He's read the words but no one has told him how to pronounce them. So we add 'a cow stick guitar' to his 'chor-fer' ('chauffeur') to the funny words that he mis-pronounces (but used in the correct context).

That's my boy and I am very proud of him.

Pocket Money

2008-10-13T13:43:00.003+01:00

Despite some unhappiness yesterday over the lack of clarinet practice, he went to bed happy because he had collected £5.30 in total of pocket money.

The first miserly 30 pence was from me for cleaning the area around the dining table six days out of seven in the past week. He's let off on Friday as there is always a rush to get to Cubs. I didn't tell him to do this. He sort of decided that, yes, he could, and would, clean the floor with a brush and pan after dinner.

Then he broached the issue of pocket money.

For a boy who gets fed at school (our fees cover that) there is no need to have money to buy stuff, not like in my own childhood where we had to make our way to the 'tuckshop' to queue up for food, pay for it, eat it quickly and then get to play during our short breaks.

He tends also to get the toys, games, books, etc he would like to have sooner or later.

But I checked with my RGS girls -- decided to call them his 'RGS Aunties' -- for advice: give or don't give? The consensus was 'give'. Some pocket money, seeing it grow, learning how to use/spend/save/give it (to charity) teaches him how to budget.

There are lots of TV programmes which show how young British people have no idea what a 'budget' means. This credit card generation spends more than they earn and the debts pile up. 'Experts' come in to show them why they are spending like that (to express a sadness, eg) and how to stop this spending (usually beginning with cutting up every credit card) and setting a limit to what they could spend, or directing them to a useful second job.

I don't want my son to be like that. Poor though I was I thank God that Mum and Dad gave me pocket money and I had to learn to spend within my means from a very young age.

It used to be that getting a credit card was demonstration that we are earning enough, or that we had rich parents. I like spending on my credit card because the monthly statement tells me how much I had spent. I also pay off the whole sum when it's due.

Things have changed and banks and department stores have been throwing credit at shoppers, young and old. Perhaps one positive outcome of the credit crunch is that people begin to live within their means.

Son and his Dad washed my car yesterday. The car was filthy. It was the first time it had been washed since I had it, probably in March. He was happy washing it, it seemed. He does not get to wear his wellies very often. Said he should wear his other waterproofs the next time.

Dad gave him £5 for that, ignoring my suggestion that they should split the £5.

Not sure now how long this car washing -- or even floor brushing -- would go on for. But I think it is a good start.

Long may it last.

It's Monday!

2008-10-06T16:13:00.002+01:00

Another long, complicated day for poor son.

We've had a tough week/end. Dad was at work a lot. There was a virus attack on his office system late last week, they were scheduled to migrate data or whatever on the weekend, and then there was hardware failure as well.

Getting to the office was not easy as the Tube was not running. Dad was keen to go to church yesterday but realized that something was very wrong at work and we dropped him off at the station. Not only the Tube was down, the overland train was down and he ended up going to work on a Sunday in a coach.

So far the story was son has had to attend Band practice even though it clashes with drama rehearsal because Band has priority. But son forgot he had to go for early lunch which meant he had very little time to get his food and actually eat it. Thankfully the Head of Music (on lunch duty) let him off for not finishing his lunch. Late for Band.

Then there was some confusion over whether the boys were leaving for their football match straight after lunch, etc, etc. That upset him because he was fearful that he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. The boys lost all their matches against rival local school. Not a very happy bunch.

Not having very much to eat all day and tired he decided to -- and I let him -- come home instead of going to orchestra rehearsal. Actually he's been coping with a tummy ache and is right now sitting on the throne. I hope he is not reading as usual.

I feel that I should be stricter with him sometimes. But he is only eight. When I was eight I was not preparing for a grade 4 piano exam, attending drama, band and orchestra rehearsals, playing football matches, moving between classrooms for different subjects, and having to sort time-table clashes, etc with various teachers.

It's good to see him growing up, but there is no need to grow up that quickly.

He's still on the throne and I think I can hear him flipping pages. Bah!

Long thirsty Thursdays

2008-09-25T12:36:00.003+01:00

They are doing intensive rehearsals for this drama production. Lunch-time and after-school rehearsals.

I think son is regretting it a little that these are going on all the time. But he is not going to quit because he is not going to let the other people down. Good on him!

This means having to miss his Thursday lunch-time Chess Club. He's OK with that as he's not required for rehearsal next week and could catch up on Chess then. Today it means having to miss his first break because of a piano lesson. Then he goes to Late Class after school until the rehearsal between 4.30 and 5.30pm.

Gave him some grapes for a snack but he might not have time to eat them. At least it is there and might come in useful to quench his thirst.

Orchestra rehearsals have also moved back to Mondays. That means he does Monday lunch band practice, Monday after-school orchestra rehearsal before finishing at 4.30pm. He gets a break on Tuesday and is home early then.

He also has four pieces to perform on the clarinet in a couple of weeks at the Autumn Wind and Brass Concert at school. He plays with an oboeist, two flutists, another clarinettest (all from the top end of the school) and plays the melody line with his best friend who has just started on the clarinet. So a lot of practice for him.

Practice?

I'm still having trouble trying to get him to practise more than five minutes every other day or so. What is exasperating is that despite long breaks in between he is still able to produce a very good tone in the first instance and he does not forget his fingering. So I cannot even say, "If you don't put in the practice you would lose your muscle tone."

I think he does exercises with his mouth and lip muscles even when he is not physically playing the clarinet and that is very good. I can't complain really. Except that a mother always feels, "Ah! If only he would do a little bit more, he could be SO good."

Yesterday it was really lovely to hear him play and experiment on the clarinet. And he was demonstrating to his dad the diminished chords on the piano. Hopefully music theory will be a dawdle (spelling?) to him when the time comes.

He is struggling to write the '£' sign in his Maths and musical notes, clefs, etc. We're 'doing' his science project on 'sound' and we decided that we would decorate some old empty plastic containers with musical signs. We've taken to sticking post-it tags on the inside of the container so he could trace the patterns on the outside. It's coming along.

This morning he was trying to show me how he has to dance while singing "We're in the money!" etc. Let's hope he loosens up a bit.

Even longer peace

2008-09-18T16:45:00.002+01:00

Son was given two smaller and one more major parts in the drama production and he is chuffed.

Then we quickly realized that the first rehearsal would clash with his orchestra practice at Tuesday lunch-time.

Monday morning he appeared really anxious. A mother knows these things, but tries not to highlight it. He would have to talk to various teachers about the clashes in his timetable, go to a Band rehearsal at lunch, organize to store his clarinet at the office, or in a locker somewhere, as well as organize himself to change into games kit for a football match. That is a lot for an eight-year-old.

First thing in the morning he spoke to teacher in charge of drama production and was reassured that she would speak to the Head of Music wrt the clash. Then the Band rehearsal time was changed at the last minute.

Did he panic? A little. But he got that sorted and even managed to get to the football match. He left his clarinet in the office for me to pick up, as planned. Good lad!

Tuesday's orchestra practice has now been switched as well so that he has orchestra, quick lunch and then drama rehearsal.

I noted to him that the should notify whoever in charge that he would have to leave early or arrive late due to lunch in between, just in case.

First thing at school, notified the teacher in charge of drama that he might be late. Sorted.

Wednesday was normal long day with Fun Choir.

Today there are drama rehearsals at lunch and after school at 4.30pm. He wanted to come home in between (for 45 minutes). Then he realized that a better idea is to stay at Late Class, finish his homework, play with his friends, and then attend rehearsal, which finishes at 5.30pm. It's going to mess up my cooking schedule, but it's not the end of the world.

So it will be interesting to see how he has coped with such a long day.

I think he's been doing very well.

Sing your way home

2008-09-11T15:31:00.002+01:00

Enjoying an extended afternoon of quiet here.

Extended till about 5pm because son has decided to go for an audition for the school music/drama production.

This is the son whose acting has been described as 'wooden' by his teachers but whose singing has been known to be about the best.

Despite the long-running saga of being bored with Oliver last year, and my reminding him that this production requires committment, he decided to go for it.

It surprises me even more as he had decided to forgo the audition for the Chapel Choir last week. He showed some disappointment when he thought only Form III and over were allowed to audition and he is in Form II.

When the Head of Music said Form II auditions were on last Friday he was chuffed, and then, didn't go for the audition ... because he thought he was not prepared. And also he thought -- wrongly -- that the choir practises at Tuesday lunch hour. He already has band practice on Monday lunch hour. Two days of disrupted lunch hours means ... less time for play.

"Maybe in Form III I would be more prepared."

I am a bit confused as to his goals and desires. No amount of coaxing would make him agree to go to the Head of Music to ask for a second chance. Yet he is going to this audition today. He even said I could help him to prepare for it "because I've seen that sometimes a bit of help is required". He was even more pleased then to learn that there was no need to prepare, as the teacher in charge was going to give them something to sing.

Based on his singing ability I have no doubt that he would do well, but it's his acting ability and readiness to commit that are questionable. Although he did say this is only for up to November. It's not going to be another Oliver.

Anyway, I shall enjoy this afternoon for now.

Off to Camp, at last!

2008-09-08T10:14:00.003+01:00

Between Singapore and resumption of school is Cub Camp.

Cub Camp is the be-all and end-all of all incentives during this long eight-week summer break for son. We kept going to the camp shop (there are two in our part of Harrow!) to buy various things. Even on the day of camp itself, after I'd done my turn at the school uniform shop, we had to go to the shop to buy a steel mug.

Son is a very "I'm very comfortable at home, thank you" kind of boy. He could stay indoors for days if you do not force him out for some fresh air. But camp -- living in a tent -- seemed to have taken his fancy. I think it's the prospect of another badge that mattered most to him.

Anyhow, finally packed and ready to go, we got to the camp site.

There was to be an 'opening ceremony' at 7.30pm. Son checked in, got the stuff he needed for his tent, disappeared into the tent for a long while, emerged, came to me to give me a kiss (very unexpectedly), sort of waved to Dad, and said, "You can go now."

Being thus summarily dismissed, we left. We weren't allowed to stay for the opening ceremony.

Well, you know, this is the first time EVER that son has slept away from me. Ever since he was born -- kind of prised out of my body -- he has always slept under the same roof as me. Dad had gone away for a day or two (hospital, errand to Nanny, etc), but son has ALWAYS been with me. Even when I went to Singapore to conduct some research, son was with me.

Who felt the separation more? Guess!

It was a rite of passage for all of us.

All through the time he was away we could not stop talking about him: he must be having his campfire now. Is he singing 'Ging gang gooli'? "Do you think he's asleep?".

Get used to it, we reminded ourselves.

Sunday morning, the rain was chucking down. "Do you think his tent is flooded?"

Sunday afternoon, we went to pick him up, in good time for the 'closing ceremony', we thought. At the carpark we noticed that cubs were already climbing into cars. They had brought forward the closing ceremony because of the rain. So we missed it.

Caught sight of son. All smiles. Rushed towards us waving a certificate: Best Camper it says.

A real surprise. All our fears about his not liking camp evaporated. He wants to do more. He even managed to pack everything back into his rucksack. Amazing!

So last week we bought him a new sleeping bag. Next 'Cool Camp' end of October coming up. What fun!

One-Tonne Noodles

2008-08-24T21:23:00.004+01:00

My brother decided to up sticks and move to another country. He and his wife have been managing most of my financial affairs.

I therefore had to spend some time in Singapore to sort out various administrative issues (re-assigning them to another sibling). My own family has not been back to Singapore for some time. I do not like air travel and especially long-haul air travel. I was also particularly keen to visit my favourite maternal uncle who's had a stroke. I last saw him eight years ago and Uncle is 84. So we decided to stop two weeks in Singapore.

All four siblings still remaining in Singapore were at the airport to welcome us. We felt very loved. After settling in at the YMCA, being given a phone and phone card that works in Singapore, a freshen-up, etc, we were at a Kopi Tiam (air-conditioned hawker food place) nearby to have dinner.

Son is very picky with food so I was not looking forward to making a choice for him. We finally settled on "Wonton Noodles" in soup. "Wonton" is a Chinese transliteration of "cloud swallow" (or cloud being swallowed). It is a meaningless name as such, unless one wishes to say that the crumply folds of cream-colour boiled wonton skin over bits of minced pork and prawn look sort of "cloud-like".

We were pleasantly surprised that son actually ate the noodles, and then ate some more of the noodles. He was not so much into the actual wonton, the roast pork and the vegetables that came with the noodles. But the noodles, he ate them well with chopsticks.

I noted, "That was Mum's favourite hawker food when she was young."

Son: "So I've got your genes then."

Me: "Yes, you must have some of my genes."

Son: "But I didn't steal your trousers."

Me: "Pardon?"

Son: "Genes! As in jeans! Trousers. I've got your genes, but I didn't steal your trousers. Geddit?"

Slurp!

Or Two (Results!)

2008-08-01T16:50:00.002+01:00

Mr G got back to us when I asked if it should be same-size whiskey. He told us the unofficial result and added "Yes, a very large whiskey of great age I think".

We hassled the Head of Music when we noticed that his car is back in place. When he got to read his emails, he confirmed that son did not only get a Distinction, but a Distinction with 136 marks in his Clarinet.

There were whoops of joy from son when he learned that.

Over the weekend he'd been going, "I hope I get 136," because 136 plus the 124 he got for his piano would equal to an average of 130, which is what one needs for a Distinction.

I know friends whose children appear to be very good at an orchestral instrument, but they struggle with piano.

Son started on the piano. That means developing a 'two-channel mind'. His music has become quite difficult for me because fingers of the same hand play at different rhythms (eg holding down thumb and moving one or two other fingers to form a chord).

For him then to switch to playing clarinet requiring him to read just one line of music at one time must seem terribly easy. I don't know.

It will be interesting to see how he progresses when -- if -- he takes on the organ as well.

Meanwhile, having had Acker Bilk send him to sleep for a week or so, he's worked out the opening lines of Stranger on the Shore all by himself.

A Result! (Or Two?)

2008-07-24T17:29:00.003+01:00

Son took his music exams two weeks before the end of term and we wondered how he'd done. He was keen to find out because a certain colourful construction toy is at stake.

Some time in May, desperate at his reluctance to practise, we made him sign a contract to the effect that a Merit in both exams would be rewarded by such-and-such, and in the unlikely event of a distinction, then it's something else, etc.

We tracked down Mr G, piano teacher, who somehow managed to get at his results and told us in no uncertain terms that he managed a 124, a Merit in piano grade 3. He (Mr G) was going to celebrate with a large whisky.

Son saw the email and his face went, "O! I didn't get a distinction," and so that particular PSP game is out of the question (or is it?).

We were going, "You've done well! Another Merit!"

He is pleased actually that he did get a Merit because at one point we thought he would only just managed a Pass. What is more important is that he seems to -- finally -- see the correlation between practice (to a certain extent) and performance.

What about the clarinet result? Mr G wouldn't tell us because he's not the clarinet teacher nor the Head of Music at son's school. But he did say, "Sounds like another large whisky is on the horizon!!!"

If it's the same size "large", then we think he means he's got a Merit in clarinet, too.

Not a bad result for the sheer amount of practice a certain young man DID NOT put in, and within such a short preparation period.

Well done, son!

A Joke © 2008 LT

2008-07-19T15:12:00.003+01:00

Son was rattling on his calculator. He has learned (from me) how to make words with the calculator upside down. For example, when you look at 0.7734 upside down it appears as "hELL.O".

He experimented and came up with 0.773450 which reads -------.

Then he did some mental 'reverse engineering' and came up with the question:

What is a limpet's favourite Shakespeare play?

Answer: oSHELLo!

inspired by the OShELL.O that 0.773450 looks like upside down.

Not bad for an eight-year-old, I would say.

You saw it here first.

Going omph-pa-pa

2008-07-17T15:07:00.001+01:00

While watching a news report on more knife killings in London I went, "Where are the parents of these young people carrying knives? Don't their parents care?"

I went on to say, "I know where they are. They are probably down in a pub somewhere."

To this my son chipped in, "Yeah! and singing omph-pa-pa."

He had just done Oliver! at school, right, and there is this scene in a pub where Nancy sings "Omph-pa-pa" to distract Bill Sykes so that Oliver could escape. So now son thinks that when grown men go to the pub, they sing "Omph-pa-pa".

Or does he?

Maybe it is just his way of saying how people enjoy themselves, forget themselves, in a pub. Who knows?

Is doing one's best ever good enough?

2008-07-14T14:08:00.003+01:00

I had just dropped off the letter to the sports master.

After some careful consideration I decided that it was unfair that:

son was not given even a certificate in his team event when certificates and medals were awarded for all other individual events
up to five boys in the other Form I class who didn't make grades A & B were given "good work" and "effort" certificates at Final Assembly

Altogether eight out of the eleven boys (73%) in that class were given some kind of award.

In my son's class four who didn't made the A and B grades were also awarded certificates for "good work" or "effort". In total, eight boys out of a class of 14 (57%) were given an award.

This is great for the boys who are not academically gifted, but boys who are not gifted on the sports field are not similarly given certificates to encourage them at all.

There are a few boys in the 11-boy class who are clearly gifted in sports. There is a boy who wins all the races, sets all the records (very probably including the one with the false start) and sometimes I hear my son go, "Who cares? J--- will win all the prizes."

Now when a child says, "Who cares? So-and-so will be top of the class no matter how hard I try," a sensible mother would not go, "Yeah, why bother?"

Sensible mothers say, "That may be the case, but it does not stop you from trying your best, better your own record."

It's really great that the school awards boys for "effort" for work in class. What about awarding boys for "effort" in sports.

When I revisited the situation I realized that my son keeps coming in fourth to sixth. He was welly-wanging really well, for example. A big cheer went up after his first throw. He was the best in his class of 14. Then boys from the other class started throwing and he was edged into fourth. After fouling one throw (strong wind, good distance but just out of the V), he was edged further down into sixth.

It was the same with long jump. He was doing quite well because he is a natural jumper and they had absolutely no training and were allowed one practice jump before the whole event. The teacher in charge was saying that they might need a jump-off between my son and someone else to decide on a medal position.

Then a couple of boys came over from their javelin throw. Some boys whose names were not even on the list decided that they would also have a go at long jump, and my son was edged out ... again. I was furious, but kept my cool.

I guess I am just a pushy mother, but it is hard to see one's child trying so hard at something he is not naturally gifted in, and not be rewarded at all. I am tired at seeing tears and disappointment as sometimes the goal-posts are moved and I have used up all ideas to persuade him that it is still worth his trying his best.

So I have suggested to the teacher that perhaps boys should be given encouragement and public acknowledgement that they have achieved personal targets and vast improvements in certain events. Personal bests are to be celebrated as well, not just coming in first, second and third.

With three boys in the other class and one in my son's class who are superb athletes, the other boys in the Form do not stand a chance. But the last thing we want is for them to give up and say, "Why bother?"

No use having a clever mind when we do not have a strong body. So I hope the sports master would consider seriously my suggestion.

A mother's worry

2008-07-06T18:42:00.003+01:00

Another extremely busy week.

Monday: a concert to which parents were not invited, but son performed with the Wind Band.

Tuesday: Sports Day. Started off well. Son kept coming in fourth, so no certificates for him, but points for his House. Very frustrating. But he somehow sprinted his heart out and came in third in his House sprint and was selected to go into the sprint relay team. A real achievement.

They won that event but somehow they were not given a medal and he was not even given a certificate. Very odd.

Then the 200m individual. He had been practising in his group C or D relays. But because of his excellent performance in the earlier sprint, got put into the strongest group with the top runners. The eventual winner also managed a false start but the starter did not see this.

Son saw the false start and hesitated expecting a recall which never came and eventually ran, some two seconds later, and managed to come in second to last.

He was not a happy bunny. He has to learn to play to the whistle -- or whatever phrase it should be. I felt very embarrassed by his tears. He felt it was not fair. We knew it was not fair. A good few parents saw the false start but none spoke up, except me, because their sons were not in that race. Those whose sons won -- despite their false starts -- also did not own up to it.

Well, such is life.

Wednesday: Things quietened down a bit. I was so upset with his behaviour at Sports Day I was up in the middle of the night (from hay fever, actually) and wrote him a long letter, noting how he does not seem to be aware of other people's feelings, including my own, that he does not see the positive and dwell only on the negative, that we have to stop excusing him by saying he is only eight, because the other eight-year-olds did not behave like him. He read the letter with great solemnity at breakfast.

On the whole, a much better day, because he did try to look at the positives today. What a glorious change. And how much nicer.

Thursday: School Speech Day -- one of my few opportunties to dress up. Weather was perfect. Son won the Class Prize. And we saw that he also won a music certificate, which was to be handed out on ...

Friday: Leavers service at the school chapel followed by Final Assembly. Loads of certificates to hand out. Son's House won the Sports section and were all-round winners this year, much to their delight. But, as I pointed out, he was given nothing for coming in first in the team relay. I shall have to speak to the Sports teacher about this.

Grade card came back. He did excellently. A1s in English, Maths, Science, French, Geography and Music, and A2s in Technology, History and Art, and a C2 in Religious Studies which he decided was not religious enough ("It's history!"). He was thrilled that he had managed to get an A1 in English, a personal goal. Now to convert A2s to A1s and get rid of that C2 in Religious Studies ....

Cubs in the evening and he came home with SIX new badges (four music, one swimming and one IT) which kept me busy this afternoon.

Saturday: Dad at work all day and we had lots of essential shopping to do.

Sunday: church and joint birthday party in the afternoon.

What has been weighing really heavy on my mind is the murder of the two French exchange students in London earlier this week. I cannot comprehend how any one could perpetrate such a crime. I cannot imagine how their mothers could come to terms with the way their promising sons -- prospective Nobel Prize winners for all we know -- died.

I fear for my son. What a future. To grow up in an era where lives could be snuffed out just like that, probably not for anything more than a few quid so that the perpetrator of the crime could get his next fix.

This is a very, very sad world.

What does a mother do? What can a mother do? I can only pray. Pray for God's protection. Pray that God, in his mercy, would allow my son's gifts to come to fruition that others might benefit from it. And pray that God's Name be praised. And pray for the mothers of those two young men.

Free range?

2008-06-30T16:43:00.002+01:00

Went shopping with son to get birthday presents for his dad's birthday.

We were delighted to find organic cotton and bamboo socks in a certain department store.

Son: Organic cotton? Hmm, but are they free range?

I think he's getting the picture.

Exams over! Really over!

2008-06-25T16:09:00.004+01:00

Last Monday he had his final hurdle.

The day started as usual at 8.30am and went: school as usual, piano grade 3 exam, classes as usual, lunch as usual, band practice at a different time (cancelled last minute), games as usual, quick change (no time for shower), clarinet exam. We finished about 4.20pm, perhaps. Exhausted.

In between I missed helping to run the school uniform shop. I completely forgot. Thankfully the other mother did not forget. I was, to say the least, a bit stressed by all this. There was a chance that he might be playing a cricket match after lunch. So, for the first time, I was relieved that he came back last Friday and said, "By the way, I was not selected to play for the match."

Whew! What a relief! As I would have had to fetch him from the games grounds (a little drive away), rush him over to school again, get him changed, freshened up, etc, for the exam. No thanks (or should it be "no, thank you?").

This morning I got hauled up by the Director of Music. Apparently son went into the exam hall and spent a minute scrabbling on the floor sorting out his music. The examiner has exactly 12 minutes for each candidate and told him to move along. (The examiner had also been at his job since 9.30am.)

Not his fault, really, I insist. His clarinet teacher has decided that he would pick pieces from three different books. With his piano exams, they use a standard book with the three sections from which they choose a tune. For some strange reason, son had to do pieces from three different rather dated books.

Ah well, I just hope he had not been marked down. We keep making the excuse that he's only seven, or now, he's only eight. So much of his behaviour is really due to his being a really young boy. The fact that he is ahead of his peers in his music and maths does not make him any other more than, well, eight.

ESB -- Extra Special Boy?

2008-06-11T16:47:00.003+01:00

Got his ESB (English Speaking Board) exam results yesterday. Had a 'Merit Plus', whatever that means.

Then went on to say that his best friend got a Distinction.

There was a look of clear disappointment on his face and I felt so sorry for my little boy.

The point is he refused to let me or his dad help him with the preparation.

For the poem he chose Alfred Noyes 'The Highwayman', just Part I because it is a long poem. I thought that was a bit ambitious. But he wanted to do that as a challenge.

For the talk he talked about his 'blue bear'. It was short, presented in his own clumsy little way.

Then he read from Roald Dahl's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

I know for a fact that all the other parents gave a great deal of help to their boys. They would listen to their talk every day, maybe helped even in writing some of it, primed them on how to answer the questions from the floor, made them read and taught them how to read with expression, etc.

My son would have none of it. "If I get a Distinction I want it to be ON MY OWN WORK, not somebody else's."

That, I think, is a very good attitude. But he was disappointed that he did not get a Distinction.

He also did his 'Maths', "How could I get Distinction in the talk and reading, and a Merit Plus in the poem and still only get a Merit Plus?"

Let's hope he has learned his lesson. That sometimes he should listen to the opinions of his Mum and Dad and take their suggestions on board.

Being Franck about one's abilities

2008-06-09T09:00:00.003+01:00

Yesterday we did the unprecedented. We took our son to an Anglican church not far from us where his piano teacher plays the organ.

After the service we were treated to a rousing performance of Walton (composed for a coronation, don't ask me which one).

Son was allowed to play his exam piece by C Franck (written for the piano to sound like an organ) on the pipe organ. There were a first few hesitant notes. And then he was off.

So we take our hat off to the composer. It really sounds good on the organ despite the fact that it was being played by an eight-year-old!

As we waited a number of people who were busy tidying up the church after the service asked if we were OK. Proud mother here found herself saying, "That's my son on the organ." Everyone who came to talk to us seemed suitably (or politely) impressed.

We left him to play for a bit. He seemed, after a while, to be really enjoying himself. He tried playing another exam piece, but clearly it was not written for the organ and sounded a bit weird. We then got a bit worried that he might decide to launch into the theme from Indiana Jones. But son was sensible.

Later on Mr Piano Teacher confirmed that our son is a 'natural' on the organ. That means we have to think seriously about whether or when he should switch to playing the organ alongside his piano and clarinet.

Thankfully, we still have six inches of time. His legs are not long enough to reach the pedals, and we would let him continue with the piano for the next couple of years instead.

The only problem is, now that he has played the organ, he seems to be very keen to play it again!

What is life?

2008-06-01T12:56:00.002+01:00

When I say to people that my son has special education needs, they often think that he is autistic or something like that.

In his case his psychologist did wonder whether he could be borderline Asperger's, but has ruled it out for now.

We recently had a parent-teacher consultation and it was good news to hear that his form teacher (as head of that section of the school) has made plans for son to do some Maths lessons with some of the 'more able boys' in the Form above him from next year. This is subject to time-tabling working out.

That is good news for us. Having said that we are very thankful that son has calmed down so much this year. He is clearly more relaxed. He is enjoying school, making more friends, not afraid of making mistakes.

He still has his moments, especially when he cannot find any logic in what his teachers require him to do. Eg in swimming, "What's the point of making us do sculling when we can already do the backstroke?"

Then there were issues with his being bored with Fun Choir that has ceased to be fun. With the new songs and therefore new challenges he is clearly much happier.

What is mentally exhausting for us -- me, especially -- is that we have to keep going about finding answers. So one morning it was, "I don't really want to go to school today. I am bored."

A few minutes later it was, "What is life, any way?" Not "what is the meaning of life?" or "why do we exist?" but "what is life?".

At ten minutes past eight, when the school goes at 8.30am, I didn't really wish to discuss that. Somehow managed to bundle him off to school.

Having been a philosophy major I am usually happy to discuss such issues as life, rationality, morality, etc, but I find it exceedingly difficult to discuss philosophy with my eight-year-old because I can never find suitable examples and illustrations that an eight-year-old would find relevant.

Any way we did read a chapter of his Philosophy for Kids book and settled on the chapter "are number as real as human beings?". And he seemed really happy that we did that together. Perhaps after mulling over the reality of numbers he would be closer to answering his own question of "what is life?". Who knows.

The point is, he needs a parent to be there with him to explore these questions.

I reminded him that he once said I could return to work when he was seven-plus. Now that he's eight, he is still very against the idea of Mum not being there to pick him up from school.

"I won't have a chance to make professor now."

"Do you really want to be a professor?"

"Yes, I do."

He said something like, isn't having your own business better than being a professor.

Sometimes I am not sure.

Cub Scouting and all that

2008-05-31T15:37:00.002+01:00

Son got duly enrolled as a Cub Scout. Then it was a visit to the fire station.

My duty was, of course, sewing on all those badges on his new uniform.

20th May was Piano Concert at his school. He played his 'Chant de la creuse' by C Franck, very well if I may say, and he has clearly leap-frogged over many of the older boys in his piano grades. But that is not important.

The important thing is he is developing confidence in his playing. One of the boys CF (three years older) stood out with his musicality. Son's teacher tells son that one day he could play as well as CF.

At reception I caught up with CF's mum. Apparently CF used to practise only three minutes. Wow! there is hope for us, I thought. Only after a Chinese piano teacher told him that he should practise at least 30 minutes a day did CF improve. (CF's mum is Chinese, like me, but comes from mainland China.)

So my son decides that he would start practising for 30 minutes every day "starting tomorrow".

Let's just say he's not been able to do 30 minutes but he is making good progress. Both piano grade 3 and clarinet grade 1 exams looming. And his ESB (English Speaking Board) exams as well.

Poor lad. But he's cool.

More exam results and Cubs

2008-05-11T13:18:00.003+01:00

They are trickling in. It seems that he has done extremely well, with a 97% in Geography (class average being 65.5%).

Both English and History are at 85% with the class average being 58% and 48% respectively.

So only the Maths result to come in.

Been to first two Cub Scout meetings and he has asked to be enrolled next week. Today we attended the church which sponsors his troop. One of his leaders was playing the organ.

Son has even learned the 'Promise' about doing his best, and thinking of others before self, etc. It will be interesting to see whether his attitude towards 'others' would improve. Being an only child it is so often a case of 'me, me, me'.

As a result of his joining Cubs I've met up again with the mums that I used to meet up with when our children were babies. The boys do not remember one another, they look so different now, but I look forward to touching base (and having 'coffee') with these mums again.

Exam results!

2008-05-07T12:55:00.003+01:00

Exams are really over for now. Well, school exams are.

Son had his first result yesterday. Science. The average score for the class of 25 was 70%. His score was a respectable 96%.

We are both very proud of him, considering the fact that he refused to do any 'revision' he has done very well.

This morning he moaned that he is not likely to get 100% in Maths as he did in the last term.

There was a question about which meaning he was not sure. It had to do with calculating what angle is turned after half a turn. A 'turn' is a very vague term. Son interpreted it as 180 degrees, so have a turn would be 90 degrees. He is not sure whether the one turn could also be taken to be 360 degrees in which case half a turn would be 180 degrees.

I encouraged him to note this to his teacher, to stick up for himself and others.

Will be interesting to see what he does.

School Exams -- nearly over!

2008-05-04T21:12:00.002+01:00

Son seems so terribly comfortable with his exams, it is unreal.

Thursday was Geography. He forgot a number of facts. I think he now realizes that he has to do something to bring this information to the fore of his brains.

Friday was supposed to be last day of his exam. Unfortunately they have yet to re-sit their Maths paper. Not that it bothers him, but it is quite annoying.

Friday too was his first day at Cub Scouts and this was exciting for all of us.

He went, and stuck with us. The hall was very noisy during 'free play' and I was concerned that the noise might bother him.

But I think he forced himself to look beyond the noise. More structured activities followed.

He wanted me back at 7.30pm for an 8pm pick-up. So I did. They were singing loudly when I arrived. I peeked in the door. I think he saw me, but showed no effort to leave.

I sat outside and heard the leader calling out names. The children then mumbled some information.

Then I heard son's name called. His answer was 'cricket'.

He then went on for a minute or so. Was that my son speaking loudly and clearly to a room of virtual strangers?

He was dismissed later and he was full of excitement. He definitely wants to go back.

Brilliant.

So on Saturday we went to buy his uniform even though he is not due to be 'invested' yet.

School Exams Day Three

2008-04-30T20:57:00.002+01:00

Picked son up after Fun Choir. Nothing said about whether it was fun or not. I managed to be late enough for him to have gone on to Late Class. (I think they were released unusually early today.)

Science paper was OK. But he could not remember the important dates for his History paper. Then there were those Anglo-Saxon place names that he hadn't learned.

I had kept asking him to learn that list but he insisted he did not need to know that.

No, no, no, the point of revision is that you learn everything that you have learned in class.

"But it was not on the green sheet!" he insisted.

Of course it was. He just decided to ignore it.

Having learned today that there were facts that he could not recall, we then went over the Geography section of his green sheet. He did not have his book despite my instructions for him to retrieve his Geography book from his classroom.

So we had to rely on his atlas and hope that we have covered enough ground.

As for birthdays, his Chinese side showed when he asked me why people made such a fuss about birthdays.

We ordered in pizza because he loves pizza and I don't remember the last time we had pizza at home. His presents had not arrived because he told us rather late in the day what he really wanted for his birthday.

In any case he would not be able to start playing with those so it's just as well that it's not likely to arrive till tomorrow at least.

His best friend remembered and he came home with a model airplane to build and paint.

School Exams Day Two

2008-04-30T10:20:00.003+01:00

Maths paper yesterday. He was cheerful coming home. Can't think why.

There was a blip with the exam papers. Some pages had not been printed and only three boys in the class had complete papers. Those who had less than complete papers now have to re-sit their Maths -- or the missing bits -- today, he tells me.

"Perfect! Three exams on my birthday!"

I emailed his teacher concerning a different matter. Looks like Maths re-sit is now going to be on Thursday. It doesn't really matter.

Significantly he told me that he went over his test answers and discovered he made mistakes, "But I fixed them."

Good for him.

We learned that Oliver rehearsal is on Friday and he says he wasn't going to Cubs on Friday evening. Today as we walked past the notice he tells me, rehearsal will finish by the end of school day, so Cubs is on again.

It will be his first day at Cubs -- thanks to being eight (today) -- and he is excited.

School Exams Day One

2008-04-28T20:49:00.002+01:00

English I (Comprehension).

"I like this the least."

"For some strange reason, I'm really looking forward to the cricket match."

Son seemed relaxed and wrote his first exam this round today. Some difficult bits, made a mistake, but had time to correct it, he tells us.

Don't really care. He is relaxed and in such good mood.

Insisted on doing my feet (ie massaging them in his own way).

Then we realized that he had forgotten to write out this 'show-and-tell' bit in preparation for his English Speaking Board Exam, and which his Drama teacher wishes to look at tomorrow.

So he wrote out the lot in 30 minutes.

Exams in the morning, normal lessons in the afternoon.

Away cricket match today and his team won and he is very happy.

Thank you, God!

Organ, Naturally

2008-04-26T16:48:00.003+01:00

Yesterday I was still 'buzzing' with the news of son possibly playing the organ at School Mass.

Had to give some money to Mr G piano teacher because son had forgotten to do so (for his Scales book).

Mr G then explained that he suspects son is a 'natural' at playing the organ.

The other piano teacher and Chapel organist walked by and said, "O! We need more of those."

Mr G explained that son insists on 'swapping fingers' when he plays. Other teacher remarked, "That's very good."

This bit of information had no significance to me. I didn't have a clue what it means.

As I was already communicating with the man who sold us our piano (because we could not pin down the piano tuner) I asked him what the significance of 'swapping fingers' is.

A long response came from him, quite unexpectedly. If I could distil it, he thinks our son plays a true legato, linking notes without the help of a sustain pedal, which is very helpful because organists do not have a sustain pedal.

He went on to say it is a good idea to let him develop organ skills as soon as possible because organ-playing requires 'three-channel brain' (left, right hands and feet) while piano-playing only requires a 'two-channel brain' (left and right hand).

(That probably explains why I can play the trombone and flute fairly well, but cannot play the piano. I have a one-channel brain, methinks.)

If he does show any talent in organ-playing, the school will be very delighted, I'm sure. As they have not had an organ player for a long time.

Son also came home without any books to revise for exams next week.

"They didn't give us a chance to collect our books."

He seems so relaxed about the exams, to the point that I think he is TOO relaxed. Let's hope he copes with it OK all of next week, which means that his eighth (EIGHTH!!!) birthday will become a complete non-event.

He does have a cricket match to play on Monday afternoon and cannot decide whether to go for the Band rehearsal at lunch time. He's been practising his part (theme from Wallace and Gromit) really hard. But attending the rehearsal means leaving him with 20 minutes to queue up for lunch, eat it, change into PE gear, and get ready for the bus trip to the Away match.

We'll leave the decision up to him.

He DID complain!

2008-04-24T21:01:00.002+01:00

I could never tell what my son would get up to.

Having forgotten about complaining about the 'No-Fun Choir' he went to the following rehearsal yesterday ("I'll give them one more chance."). He was looking serious when I picked him up. Serious, not upset.

Told me he spoke to the teacher.

"But I cannot quit now. They won't let me quit now." The teacher in charge of the whole Oliver production was there and both told him the same.

He's been told that he has to stay on till the end of the year. They are now learning songs for Speech Day and all that. So he has to stay.

Not a happy bunny but a bit happier than last week because they are learning new music.

Spoke to the teacher this morning, "I hope my son wasn't too rude when he approached you."

"No," she was as polite as ever, "but he was very direct."

I said I was pleased that he's learned to stick up for himself and not ask me to do that. She agreed, probably out of politeness, too. But she knows that he has a very low threshold for boredom.

Good news too yesterday that he was awarded a Blue Card for his Technology project on 'weaving'. He had already seen the Headmaster to have his Blue Card validated.

Today. Well today's news is his piano teacher has decided to put him up for his Grade 3 EXAMS!!

He has chosen to play Chant de la Creuse (C Franck) for the School piano concert (May 20th).

At dinner he let on that Mr G said he has to go to Mr G's church to play the tune on the organ so that he knows how it sounds like. The music was orginally written for organ.

AND he has to play that tune in School Chapel Mass (when he's ready) to accompany the boys taking Communion.

!!!

The School normally has a professional musician (pianist/organist) to accompany their services.

I'm more excited about his playing at Chapel than his taking his exams.

"I must make a complaint!"

2008-04-17T17:35:00.003+01:00

Yesterday my son had a black face when I collected him from school. He was in tears before we got home (2 minutes walk).

He had been at 'Fun Choir'. But all the fun seemed to have gone out of Fun Choir because they have been rehearsing for the school Oliver production.

This is the first time the school drama production has gone musical, and the first time the Fun Choir is involved. Previously the choir was all about fun. So they sing Elvis Presley (like they did at Advent Service), they sing Freddie Mercury (Queen), they sing some serious music, they sing jazz, but all the projects usually last just for a term.

They learn new songs at the beginning of term. They perform the songs at the end-of-term concert, or Speech Day, or some other important occasion, and that's it. At the start of term, they start all over again.

Poor son has been singing Oliver since September 2007 and he's getting really, really bored. Oliver is not going to premiere till June. JUNE!

So he said he must complain to the teacher and tell her exactly why it is spoiling his Wednesday, "It used to be my favourite day of the week! Now it's just work, work, work!"

Poor kid! I felt his frustration. On the one hand this mother feels her son should learn to persevere. On the other I know he hates repetition more than most kids his age, and especially when repetition does not seem to bear any fruit.

Besides I think he's got a point about 'fun'. It's a question of principle. The teacher had said at the beginning of the year that there was only one rule to Fun Choir, that they must have fun. So this is breach of contract, right?

I wondered if he would go ahead to complain, but made sure I didn't mention it this morning. The other thing is I was very proud of the fact that he'd decided to take up the case himself and had not asked ME to do it for him.

But I suspect he would have forgotten all about it today.

Well, he came home this afternoon to say he would give Fun Choir one more chance next week. I doubt if it's going to make a difference. They are learning some new material for Speech Day. So I hope that might be incentive for him to stay.

Parenting an only, and a gifted child who hates repetition, is tough.

First Day Back at School

2008-04-08T22:00:00.002+01:00

As usual, I kind of stuck myself in front of the computer much of the day, stopping only to do some shopping (for lunch and essential vegetables for the evening meal).

Finally got to pick son up at school, late. He was in 'Late Class'.

But before that another parent told me how another boy in son's class has leukaemia. Yes, leukaemia. Her son and this other boy share lifts so she and his parents are in close contact. I was in a state of shock.

The good news is they found out much earlier than usual because the young man had a fall and something just did not seem right.

The bad news is it is a genetic condition and prognosis is not good.

Son is unaware of this yet. Again when something like this happens, it provides a totally different perspective to our own troubles.

Son seemed pleased that he is excused from Orchestra for the rest of the Term as only the strings are required. However he has been asked to join the Wind Band. That means having to rehearse during lunch (ie miss play time).

He seems awfully keen to join if only because that means another badge to add to his collection. That means having to miss his Chess Club.

Well it seems that Chess Club is not functioning as most of the boys have migrated en masse to War Hammer.

To praying readers, please keep my young friend "JD" in your prayers. Thanks.

Boy Abandoned ... his mum ... me!

2008-04-04T16:30:00.002+01:00

Son was three days at hoiliday club and had a grand time.

Yesterday he had an invitation to play with his classmate. Their au pair has been in touch frequently. Son just does not wish to come home.

She took them to the park, a stone's throw from where we live, and son opted to go home with his friend (and brother).

I had just phoned because it is agreed pick-up time and he went, "Not now, we are in the middle of a movie."

So I feel rather abandoned.

Grand-Dad we love you

2008-03-30T18:42:00.003+01:00

Yes, we've been "on holiday".

That meant going to Devon to visit mum-in-law.

It's funny how when we tell some friends this fact they sort of "pooh pooh" the whole idea and say, "O! We thought you'd been away!"

Yeah, we'd been away. Away from home. Enough to have to ask a neighbour to make sure our bins were pulled out to the perimeter of our drive and that they were returned to their usual positions while we were "away".

Son enjoyed it. He enjoyed being able to sleep in his 'lion' sleeping bag put on top of a duvet that has been folded over to sandwich four pillows, on the floor, at the bottom of our bed.

For all his shortcomings, son takes the greatest pleasure in the simplest of treats: like being able to eat a meal in front of the TV, etc.

Staying in the same room as Mum and Dad while on holiday is another of such treats. To be able to use his 'lion' sleeping bag, sleeping on his 'lion' pillow, my! Christmas had come early.

Well, that, and be given a couple of new sets of Lego for attaining his Orchestra badge at school.

He'd also been asking about, late, Grand-Dad.

One day we did something unusual: we actually went to a tourist attraction near mum-in-law. (We often visit at times when these attractions are closed.) We passed the cemetery that Grand-Dad is buried.

I suggested that we stopped by on the way home, to avoid having to drive out all this way again, to see if we could find Grand-Dad's grave stone.

And we did.

But of course the cemetery had become much more 'populated' since he was buried. We had not been for nearly eight years -- since the time he was interred, in fact.

So out of the car ... husband said "it's probably in this direction" ... "I know there is an engraving of a rose somewhere" ... and we searched.

We told son to look for "P---- T--------" and split up.

Then a voice rang out, "Dad! What's Grand-Dad's full name?"

Dad shouted back. I turned to look.

A little face lit up with excitement and a long limb stretched out with a pointing finger, "I found him!"

I remember when Grand-Dad died my sister-in-law tried very hard to protect her son (our nephew) from the reality of death, speaking of it in euphemisms.

And there we were, our son, about the same age that that nephew was when Grand-Dad died so, so suddenly, engaging with the process of death through this visit.

So this is also for Grand-Dad, we miss you so very much. You were the best father-in-law I could wish for. And I wish you could be around to see this grandson of yours.

We didn't even have a chance to tell you we were expecting him when you died on that day of the solar eclipse. Now he is nearly eight, and guess what? I think he has inherited your great sense of humour.

He is not at all like your sporty self, but definitely has traits inherited directly from Grand-Dad.

We miss you!

Boy done good

2008-03-22T20:55:00.005Z

The highlight of the term for some, not all: the school cross-country.

Got to the grounds just in time for son's race to start. As I noted elsewhere the Form I and Form IIs had to do two laps of, I don't know, about 250m, perhaps. Not quite cross-country, but a resonable distance for seven and eight-year-olds.

In this instance they were competing against the Form IIs (age eight-plus) some of whom were very nearly ten years old (if they turned nine early in the school year).

Son came in 13th, a very pleasing result as far as I am concerned.

On Thursday when we studied the results it turned out that he came in 13th in a field of 41 (with perhaps six or seven being absent from illness). He was about 7th in the whole of Form I and third in his half (class) of Form I (the more athletic ones seem to be in the other class), in a time of 5 minutes 55 seconds (or is it 5.55 minutes?).

This is pretty good going for a boy who does not usually excel in sport.

Thursday was the day he had been waiting for for the whole term.

Early morning rehearsal for fun choir, piano lesson, Mass, lunch, and then end-of-term concert followed by headmaster's assembly. He plays his first concert with the school orchestra and he expects to get his orchestra badge to go on his lapel.

And he did.

The other boy who was getting his badge was a Form VI boy about to leave the school (and orchestra), and who took this long to get his badge because his attendance and punctuality were always not up to scratch.

When this senior boy vacates his chair, son will be the only clarinettist. He prefers to call himself the 'lead clarinettist', but goes on to say, "However, it will be nicer if I did have someone to lead!"

The good news is his best friend has just started clarinet lessons, and another boy from his Form will begin next term. In due course this Form would have three clarinettists and I look forward to their playing some nice clarinet music together.

He also got his term grades and again has done excellently. There is plenty of room for improvement (C's in Religious Studies, PE and Swimming). Honestly I cannot understand how he could be given C's in a subject he was not tested in, and PE and Swimming which he continues to make steady progress in, but is still not as good as the other stronger more athletic boys in class.

Still, as a parent, I am happy to see A's in English, Maths, Technology, French, Art and Music, rather than in PE and Swimming.

Perhaps most pleasing of all is the confirmation from the form teacher that he is certainly much calmer now, and contributes more to class discussion, compared to the situation last term.

Easter Egg Hunt -- not

2008-03-18T21:47:00.002Z

Son told me at pick-up he didn't take part in the Easter Egg Hunt. He had lost his £1 coin and couldn't take part. (The boys pay £1 to take part, get some mini-eggs or win a big prize if they found the 'big egg' sticker.)

He had been really looking forward to this, so a great disappointment indeed.

I felt guilty as I came home in time for me to get down to the school if I needed to. But I knew they had enough help and I wanted son to cope on his own.

And this happened.

Better news is he has completed his swimming test. He thinks he passed.

Evening: mum of boy who has allergies phoned to say she was a bit disappointed that her son did not win a big Easter Egg despite having found the 'big egg' sticker. I do not know the details.

I had taken trouble to procure and convey to the new chairman a fruit bar that we know this boy is allowed to eat. The mums helping might have just been cautious in not handing over an egg he had duly won. I don't know.

Mum of boy expressed that her boy was deprived of feeling the 'sense of elation' of winning because the prize egg was not given him.

I stopped her to say: my son did not even have the pleasure of taking part because he lost his £1 coin and was apparently in tears.

Music-Ally (Part 2)

2008-03-16T20:53:00.002Z

Last weekend we decided to swop CD players between the study and son's room.

His CD player has gone a bit wonky because he had a tendency of leaving it on 'Pause' overnight or something like that. The DAB radio works fine, so we could not possibly throw it out.

He got my Amstrad instead which I had not used for a long time, and discovered a tape player. He didn't have a clue how to work it.

Put in a tape -- bought at an Arts Festival in Singapore c 1990 -- and son decided that he likes the musical style of Cantabile as well.

Bought a few more CDs of this group.

Delighted that my son shares my interest in this type of music.

Trunk Aid

2008-03-05T10:02:00.000Z

This is not about saving elephants.

Last week was a tough week for son. He had music lessons on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. The last one was to make up a lesson missed because of the teacher's performing schedule.

That meant having to miss a swimming lesson which he was not happy about. We packed the swim gear any way just in case there was a no-show and he could have an earlier slot.

Pick-up time: "I missed swimming but you have to wash the gear any way because J used it."

"What?"

"J forgot his bag so I loaned him my kit."

It transpired that they just whispered amongst themselves and agreed on the loan and the teacher didn't know till after the event. I don't think J's mum is even aware of that, to date.

We talked about this in the evening and I said that was a very kind and grown-up thing to do. He was afraid that I might be angry with him because that meant I had more washing to do.

Well, I wasn't. I was chuffed that my son is learning to be less selfish and is able to think about being helpful to another person.

The fact that J is about the same size helps!

Music-Ally

2008-03-05T09:16:00.002Z

Haven't we all gone through that experience? Teacher picks two captains who are asked to pick their team members.

O, the shame of being the last to be picked!

Son has come home from school moaning about even how his best friend wouldn't pick him for a football team. Gosh! Was my young man cross with that.

At the end of the last half-term -- for some reason I haven't yet recorded this -- he came back one day to say J picked him first for a quiz at music class. The other captain A wanted him too but was too late. Of course, my son answered correctly the question that brought them victory.

The following day, they continued with a quiz, but this time A was allowed to choose first, and my son was first to be picked. Again he answered the question that stopped his team from losing. (The teams drew.)

So I had a happy boy who, because he is quite hopeless at football doesn't ever get picked, was picked first twice in two days for a music quiz which his friends know he would be good at.

Fact is I told him this ages ago that his friends will soon know who is good at what and would pick accordingly. He didn't believe me.

Perhaps most significantly I asked who was the last one to be picked. My son didn't remember. To him it was not important who was the last to be picked.

The boys, despite being just seven or eight, only wanted to win and would pick what they hope will be a winning team. They still live in a "me-first" world.

But of course the last one to be picked would no doubt go home to moan about being the last to be picked. It is no consolation, I imagine, to these children if we told them the other children would not remember who was the last to be picked.

Half-way through the year

2008-02-27T14:57:00.002Z

He's been back at school for the third day now after half-term break.

I was not looking forward to half-term at all. What will I do with him 24/7, this boy who would not take any criticism and shouts at me when he's in distress, and who doesn't know how to accept help when he shouts for helps?

As it turned out, it was a rather pleasant week together with him.

First of all, there was Geography project. Unfortunately for him he drew Northern Ireland out of the bag and I know little of NI's geography. I know something about its politics, but he wants facts about its geography.

If not for the internet,we'd have to be at the library doing research. Instead we just plonked ourselves down in front of the computer and away we went.

He didn't do it all in one go. He had a plan, see, and his plan was to take things slowly and did a bit every day to cover the whole week.

But he hadn't a clue what the project was about. And neither did I. He was attempting to put all the information about NI in the little space on the map and of course it did not work.

Thankfully he eventually -- miraculously may I add -- came round to the idea that he needed to use symbols to represent the different information, and to use a key to indicate what was what. He even took on my suggestion to put all this information in a box. Wow!

By the way, I've been doing a Dionne Warwick. Every morning I wake up, I say a little prayer for son. And every night when I go to bed, I thank God for the emotional strides he'd been taking. Maybe I should learn as a mum to do less and pray more. Son certainly thinks I should say less!

Monday we were at the library to borrow books. Met up with his godmother for lunch and best thing out of this was we've got ourselves a new cleaning lady - who is right now cleaning our house for the first time.

Tuesday we had to stay in because I was waiting for a delivery. Then we went to the park for a cycle, I think. He was cycling like a maniac, the chain broke off, he fixed it, and he fell off his bike, etc, and there were tears, but he mended himself eventually.

Wednesday we were going to go to the Science Museum, but we changed our minds. I figured this was probably the only day the young lady could come about cleaning the house. I was right.

Thursday we went to the Science Musuem as planned. Had a great time, but let down by the Circle Line and ended up having to take a taxi from South Kensington, back through the Natural History Museum, the Science Museum, etc to Baker Street.

Friday was a quiet day finishing up bits and pieces, etc.

And there was piano and clarinet practices thrown in, without tears!!

So far he's had orchestra rehearsal on Monday and he found himself the only clarinettist there, so he called himself the "lead clarinettist".

Yesterday his piano teacher stopped us and we discussed his playing a jazz piano piece for headmaster's assembly next week.

Today, he would have had a clarinet lesson. Tomorrow, piano lesson, and Friday, clarinet lesson again (to make up for a lesson missed).

Busy bee. Son sees himself as being on course to vie for a music scholarship. He was totally inspired by the current Head Boy who has done his parents and the school very proud by winning a music scholarship to Harrow School, as well as another very reputable day school.

Never say that children are too young to learn. While son does not articulate all his thoughts, it is clear that he has aspirations. He watches all those senior boys and secretly aspires to be JG who won loads of prizes on Speech Day, and be NK, the most popular boy in school last year, etc. Now he hopes to be DL, winning a prestigious scholarship. Son also has a firm idea where he wants to go.

Back soon, perhaps.

Have a go at the teacher

2008-02-11T08:49:00.000Z

Son had a friend over on Friday after school.

This friend tells me that one of the new boys told the Technology Master, "I'm telling off you."

I was very amused by that. My son never tells me stories like that.

According to friend, this same boy also once told a teacher to "shut up".

My jaw dropped, because the boys are noted for their politeness at this school, so obviously this new boy hasn't learned the 'culture' of politeness yet. Give him time.

What concerned me more was that son said, in the middle of playing, "J got a House point for giving the wrong answer and I got told off for giving the right answer."

That can't be right. But knowing my son, I knew there was another part of the story that he was not relating accurately. Son's view was that he was "told off" for being "too precise". That, however, is definitely a possibility.

Any how, dad got the story out of him. Teacher drew an angle and used the curve connecting the two lines to indicate an angle. She was probably trying to introduce the concept of "angles" to the boys.

Son pointed out that it was a right angle (because it looked like one to him) and so teacher should have used a "box" instead of a curve to indicate the angle.

If I were the teacher I would also have got annoyed with him, I guess. Not only is he confusing the rest of the class, introducing the idea of a "right angle", etc, he was also challenging the teacher.

I do not know how long an argument they might have had over it, but I think dad had set son right, that the teacher was not wrong, although son could technically be correct.

Then he moaned again, "Why do I have to sit through lessons about things I already know?"

Time for another teacher-parent conference?

Choices, choices

2008-02-06T12:02:00.000Z

In the UK whenever the public are unhappy with new rules, options, etc, the government reply is often, "We want to give people choices."

Son came back with a difficult choice to make last Friday.

He was selected to play hockey (Unihoc) against another school on Monday afternoon 2.30pm to 4pm. But he also had to attend a full orchestra practice on Monday 3.45pm to 4.30pm.

He most definitely preferred to do orchestra, but he also desperately wanted to play hockey. (I haven't seen him play, but son thinks he is good. His paternal grandfather nearly got to Oxford on the basis of his hockey playing, so potentially son could be an ace hockey player. [She stifles a giggle.])

Life was easy, then he got more and more upset that he would have to miss hockey. I offered to talk to his teachers to see if we could (1) leave the hockey game early, or (2) start orchestra late, etc, but he didn't feel comfortable about it.

The teachers only live down the road. We could have knocked on their doors for advice. But it will not be fair to bother them on weekends, surely.

So, amidst tears, he decided that he'd go for orchestra and I had to say 'no' on the form to be sent back to the Games Master.

When I picked son up after orchestra, the Music Director then told us in the friendliest way possible: if there is a clash between sport and music, sport takes precedence.

Son would have been excused from orchestra. No trouble at all.

Sometimes it is much better when we are not subjected to the need to choose.

No need for all those tears, had we known. Never mind, we learn.

Big Mouth

2008-01-30T19:41:00.000Z

Son got a House point for 'Technology' today.

It was for a 'Chinese lantern' he made. On it he had meticulously written 'Chinese characters'. On closer examination, it looked like he had alternated the writing of 'da(4)' (big) and 'ko(3)' ('mouth') on the sides of the lantern.

When I saw it I burst out laughing. "Do you know what you've written?"

"What?"

"Big Mouth, Big Mouth, Mouth Big, Mouth Big."

"Those were the only characters we had to copy."

Of course, these are easy characters to copy (just three strokes if you wrote them correctly), and the shapes are so contrasting. You can understand why the Art and Technology teacher would have chosen those. From a distance, the well-spaced out characters do make a pretty pattern.

Any way, I said we should put up our Chinese lanterns for Chinese New Year next week. Son asked for one of these to take to school on Monday for Art Class.

I'm pleased that he's even showing some interest in Chinese culture.

Hockey, no hockey

2008-01-29T14:51:00.000Z

There was a match yesterday for the Under-9 A and B Teams. There was some confusion as some boys got the consent forms, but others didn't.

Son was not selected to play. He's in Football 'C' Team, and assumes that he is also 'C' in Hockey. The 'A' Team are mainly boys in the Form above him and a few really good younger boys. The 'C' Team are mainly boys from son's Form with a few Form II boys who are clearly not that great on the sports field.

Coming home from school yesterday son didn't seem at all disappointed that he was not chosen to play. It was a 'Home' match, but they were playing at grounds a short drive from 'Home'.

"Well," I said, "If you were not ill last Monday, you might have been selected to play today." It appeared that they played hockey the first time that Monday.

"But," I continued, "If you were playing hockey today, I would have had to rush you back to school for orchestra rehearsal. Or you might have to miss it altogether. So it worked out well."

He agreed.

A bit of excitement for us to know how he fared with a whole orchestra rehearsal.

At sectional practice he sits directly in front of the conductor. At whole rehearsals he is right at the back.

"Did it go OK?"

Mumble, mumble.

"But the second violins were rubbish."

There is only one other clarinet player, a Form VI boy, who'd leave the school at the end of the school year.

"Well, I'm really looking forward to playing first clarinet for the London Philharmonic Orchestra or something like that."

Perhaps not, I thought, but come next year, he'd be the most senior clarinettist in the orchestra, and he'd still only be eight.

What's the hurry?

Orchestra practice

2008-01-26T17:55:00.000Z

We attended Vespers at school chapel together for the first time yesterday.

I was a bit overwhelmed by the incense, I must say.

In fact I started sniffing when I walked into the chapel. So sensitive is my olfactory radar. It calmed down after a while, thankfully.

Son sat next to me, but eventually shifted across the aisle to sit next to a mate.

It was an interesting experience. Son seems interested in joining the Chapel Choir (IF he gets invited and passes the audition), so there might be more of such services to attend.

At home he seemed excited about being told that next week orchestra rehearsal is on Monday. At Headmaster's Assembly a list of names were read out and these brass and woodwind players were told to be at whole orchestra rehearsal on Monday (after school) instead of sectional practice on Tuesday lunch-time.

I was pleased to note that he was listening so carefully at Assembly.

Son also asked if he could take part in a chess tournament. Of course the answer is 'yes'. I was surprised that he was interested and brave enough. So far he has only beaten one other person at chess: a boy one year older who was his role model while in Junior School.

The truth is we are finding it more and more difficult to beat him at chess. He is playing very well defensively. In due course he would play a more attacking game. But it's good that he is playing.

I asked him if he remembered his first game. He smiled and showed a sweeping movement with his arm. He had swept all the pieces off the board when he realized that he was losing. Not a very good sport, but he's grown up -- if only just a little -- since then.

Let's hope the chess tournament will be a good experience.

Four P's

2008-01-23T12:18:00.000Z

One full week back at school and we all manage to take turns to fall ill.

First it was Daddy. Flat out for a day and then slow but steady recovery.

Then I copped it. It was a slow-onset sore throat into full-blown cold kind of thing and I'm still left with a tickly cough.

Son was straight into cold, fever and all that on Saturday evening. He seemed very well on Sunday, but the fever was back in the evening. So let him stay home on Monday, but made sure he was bored. Lest he gets the idea that staying home is more fun!!

Anyway, he's back at school and seems to be enjoying it. Second orchestra rehearsal yesterday (brass and woodwind section practice) and he complained about a squeaky clarinet (new reed) and sticky keys.

Working on his coping with (un)Predictability, Presentation, Politeness and something else ... ah! Prevention. He's been suffering red and sore skin around the lips because he licks his dry lips AND the area around them.

So we say we must now try to prevent that from happening by rubbing jelly on it. The skin behind his knees also tend to break out in spots and these need to be moisturized as well.

Another badge in sight?

2008-01-12T19:22:00.001Z

Son has been four days back at school. The most exciting thing so far was clarinet. Or rather the orchestra.

He had been talking for a long time about the orchestra. I wanted him to learn an instrument like the clarinet so that he could play in a band or orchestra. Son seems bent on playing in the orchestra just so to get another badge on his lapel.

The clarinet teacher was happy enough with the state of his new top front teeth for him to resume lessons. The director of music at school has also told me that he is required at section practice next Tuesday. So it is happening.

He was also happy with his school music lesson this week when they are doing scales and triads. Then on Wednesday they were off to watch Tintin at the Playhouse. Positive comments all round despite having to cope with rush-hour crowds on the Tube for the return journey.

Piano on Thursday, he was told by his teacher that nobody got a merit from the examiner they had because he was very strict on marking. All except the little boy who does not attend the same school (but presented at the school for convenience). He scored a 123, below his previous 127. But this chap (six years old and practises more than an hour every day) was supposed to have been good enough for a distinction.

That was quite a consolation for my son then. Any way he came home and jumped on the piano and played some of the new piece he'd been doing. Realized he needed the music, retrieved that, worked through the music and did marvellously. He even seemed to enjoy it. It's good to see him enjoying the challenge of learning a new piece instead of being bored with an exam piece.

Friday he was happy with Geography, his new favourite subject.

Not a bad week, although there were the same frustrations with him not responding to requests and orders, and his obsession with playing the computer and PSP.

He coped OK with my not turning up at usual time on Thursday and went to Late Class, finished his homework and read. There was torrential rain and I was drenched.

This next week will be interesting with orchestra practice, visit to the dentist, fellowship group, etc.

The knives are out!

2008-01-06T15:01:00.000Z

In the last week my son learned to use a kitchen knife to cut up broccoli and carrots into bits suitable for cooking.

He also made himself a sandwich for lunch, twice.

This is the same boy who aspires to make me a cup of hot tea, but is not yet allowed to handle boiling water. (Can't think why as I think I was making tea for the whole family when I was his age. Hmm. Must re-think that one.)

He also decided that he does not wish to learn the piano any more because "piano practice is getting in the way of my life".

What was his life about then?

Playing the PSP, and the computer (usually Lego something or other).

We put our foot down. He must continue with his piano. He does not need to sit any more exams, but he must continue with the piano as he is good, and has the potential of being very good.

We just reduced further the time he is allowed on the computer and PSP (20 minutes a day, now restricted to weekends). And yes, if he complains any more, even the 90 minutes of TV a day would also go.

We try to run a 'democratic' system in the house, but sometimes it does not work. What if one day he decides that he does not wish to go to school? Or he does not wish to wash himself? Or he does not wish to eat?

God has given us parents to tell us what to do until we know what to do.

Meanwhile I rejoice that he is honing new skills with a kitchen knife.

Right now he is attempting his first Airfix model with his dad.

God, please grant me wisdom in dealing with this boy.

Twelve Days of Christmas -- Star Wars version

2008-01-02T11:02:00.000Z

I just searched and there are other versions on the Net.

But what a surprise it was that on New Year's eve my son asked me for a piece of paper, and a few minutes later came back to sing the following to me. This is the same (I have only one) son who has been described by teachers as lacking in creativity and until recently refused to write anything on paper:
--------------------------------------------------

Twelve Days of Christmas (Star Wars version)

By LT 31/12/2007

Twelve x-wings crashing

Eleven y-wings turning

Ten Jawas jumping

Nine Rebels shooting

Eight b-wings looping

Seven good guys winning

Six ewoks dying

Five Clone Troopers

Four Wickets screaming

Three bad sith lords

Two count dooku

And a Jedi in a ghost form

-----------------------

I think he's done very well.

Piano exam results

2007-12-19T14:04:00.000Z

We were hoping that the results would be announced by the end of term, but they didn't come till the day after school closed.

Son's teacher emailed to say he scored a good pass (117), three marks short of a Merit.

We were disappointed, but not surprised. Son however soon said, "It's 17 above Pass. That's very good!"

He is right, of course. It was just that he had set a precedent with getting a Merit and had aimed for a Distinction, failing which he would settle for a Merit, that we felt bad that he only got a (good) Pass.

Now he's determined to do much better for his Grade Three. (At one point he was so fed up with playing the exam pieces he said he would not bother with exams any more. We said, "That's OK by us, but you must continue with lessons.")

It will be so nice if son could just play and do exam syllabii but not sit every exam. But he takes lessons at school and the school likes to present as many boys as possible for exams, to give them something to aim towards. It's also good on their CV when applying to senior schools.

The teacher has now given him a jazz book. He's learned the first piece, but does not show any interest in playing more written music. Instead he just sits at the piano and makes up his own.

Yesterday we ran into the school's Director of Music who mentioned 'clarinet' (ie exams). I said we'd talk about it another time.

Meanwhile son is still on an enforced break from the clarinet because of his top front teeth growing out (nice and straight at the moment). The Director of Music has said son could join the orchestra in the new term. Son is really looking forward to that.

Predictable unpredictability

2007-12-02T22:00:00.000Z

After the clarinet teacher fiasco, I thought I must introduce some 'controlled unpredictability' so that son gets used to things not always going to plan.

From a very young age, son thrived on structure and boundaries. When these are clear, he's happy. He knows exactly what is expected and he performs.

When things do not go according to plan, however, hmm, the world falls apart -- or so he thinks.

So from this week I said he might need to be at Late Class. I shall not tell him when he might be required to go, but if I am not where I should be to pick him up, he should go to Late Class like the other boys whose parents are late in picking up.

I shall be interested to see what the outcome is.

I noticed that whenever we noted a problem and we discussed and worked on it, he usually gets better in that area. It is just SO TEDIOUS to have to work through these issues one by one.

But I am his mother. If I want him to grow into independence, then I must do my job.

God help me!

Piano exam over, but then ...

2007-11-28T17:00:00.000Z

Smiles as he came to me after school yesterday.

Thought he did well, but made a mistake in his scales. (Eventually he let on that he "ran out of fingers".) The examiner let him play it again, so he felt OK.

Celebration at home as planned.

Piano teacher group emailed to say everyone "had an odd blip". Ah well, that is life.

His new clarinet arrived. Although we had a note that says his lessons are suspended for at least two weeks to let his new teeth grow out, he spotted his name on the notice-board for an 8.30am lesson.

So we were there with his old school clarinet and his new clarinet. The Director of Music came around, retrieved the old clarinet and son continued to wait. When the teacher hadn't shown up by 8.50am he was in tears.

A prefect on late duty was taking him to the office when I emerged from the office after trying to sort out a little issue of the float for the school fair on Friday.

Told him to get back off to class.

Later I had an email from the Director of Music and a phone call from the teacher to say his lesson was indeed suspended but he didn't have time to rub out his name on the notice-board.

Ah, well, confusion cleared. Teacher was kind enough to talk it through with him personally.

Son was happy enough after Fun Choir, especially when he was rewarded by a chocolate biscuit. (They get a treat after rehearsals.)

Let's hope he learns to deal with unexpected situations much better as he grows up.

Poor boy. Has it been my fault for being so protective and always giving him very specific and clear-cut instructions? Should I cut him some slack? Let him flounder a bit more?

Hmm.

Piano Exam again

2007-11-26T22:50:00.000Z

Tomorrow he sits his Grade Two exam. Did the mock exam today and only got 114.

Would he have the energy to put in another 6 points to get a merit?

This exam preparation has been too protracted for him, a marathon. He is so bored with playing the pieces we won't blame him if he messes it up. Would he have enough sprint left with the Finish line in sight?

At Fun Choir they were doing Jailhouse Rock. Over the weekend he started putting together Jailhouse Rock on his own. The result is quite impressive.

Husband and I agree that if he didn't do another piano exam again, we won't mind. But we want him to continue his study of the piano. He would be able to do so well, to enjoy himself and bring so much pleasure to others.

For now piano exam is a chore -- and he got himself a paper cut before going to bed, nice!

He's looking forward to being able to play in the orchestra. The Director of Music has invited him to join and son is chuffed.

But first those front teeth must grow out (down, actually) first. "Toothless" has been excused from clarinet lessons for two weeks.

Tooth be told, exam results

2007-11-20T21:50:00.000Z

Went off after school with his German classmate. A few boys in his class just love having him around. This German boy, in particular, wants my son to be his brother.

He was supposed to be dropped off when older German brother goes to play football, but the session was rained off. So we picked him up instead.

While stuck in traffic (thanks to road works), we were told that he had outdone even his best friend at the 'beep test'. They did this two weeks ago and because he was late from piano lesson, didn't have a fair chance at it. The Games Master told him to report after lunch for a re-test and he did.

He's top of the his class at the beep test, it seems -- but only because the stronger boys are in the other class.

Then trouble: his other tooth was out. Great big grin on his face. He's been jabbing himself in the jaw somehow due to this offending tooth and now it's out. Great big grin showing a great big gap.

Then I realized I really ought to have a chat with him despite it being so late. It soon transpired that he was given his exam results and it's Maths: 100% (average 62% in class); English 81% (average 50% in class).

Glad that he could go to bed happy, but he's lying in wait for the tooth fairy.

Tooth be told, exams over!

2007-11-18T20:44:00.000Z

So we celebrated by eating at one of his favourite restaurant. It's nice to 'meet Daddy' after work. He decided that he would dress smart, so put on his new suit and red 'musical notes' tie.

It was a very cold day.

It was a really lovely evening.

Home, and bed-time ritual.

Oh-oh! Bloody mouth again. A tooth was bleeding somewhere. We decided that he should rinse out the blood, carefully, with the plug in the sink, to make sure that even if he did spit the tooth out by accident it does not get washed down the drain.

We were having a good laugh when it was clear he had stopped bleeding and then I looked at him and saw a gap in his front teeth. He had lost it!

But WHERE was the tooth?

Checked in the sink. The plug was still in. No escaped tooth. We hunted around and found it on the bathroom floor, and there was celebration again.

Any way today on the phone to Nanny I heard him saying about the exams, "It was very difficult [pregnant pause] to get it wrong."

What cheek!

We also discovered on the floor elsewhere in the house a 'Special Award' certificate from school for being kind and befriending the new boys in class.

Well done!

My son -- the next Steven Spielberg? George Lucas? Whatever.

2007-11-14T10:14:00.000Z

My son is currently into making mini-movies.

He's really into Star Wars. He's really into Lego. Put the two together, you get Lego Star Wars movies.

The Lego site for children has mini-movies made by other Lego/Star Wars enthusiasts. My son has been so inspired he's been making his own using our mini digital camera.

I like his sound effects best.

Any way, still in the vein of the Parenting a Prodigy post, just because he shoots these mini-movies it does not make my son a 'film producer'. Does it?

(The all-dreaded) Writing exam

2007-11-13T22:04:00.000Z

Today's the day. Trepidation!

Son has got his 'English II' exam paper.

Considering how he had frozen over the last time he had to write an 'essay' in an exam, I was really worried.

Monday was 'English I' (Comprehension, etc.) and he came back confident that he had answered all the questions in full sentences.

Today was writing a story based on a picture which was 'pirates': 'an adventure on the high seas'.

His verdict: It was fun.

Did you complete the story?

Of course. I filled up the whole page.

That's my boy.

What a relief that there weren't tears and tantrums. Especially when a bloody wobbley tooth at breakfast caused him some distress.

Praise God!

Parenting a prodigy?

2007-11-12T17:17:00.001Z

Saturday morning last I was feeling a bit under the weather. Heard on BBC Radio 4 Today programme that a seven-year-old from Singapore is looking for a place at university to study chemistry.

When I felt well enough to look up this news item I followed links to read his dad's blog and his comments, answers and responses to other blogs.
Here are my thoughts:

Poor seven-year-old. I feel sorry for him.
Poor parents. The more vocal dad, as a proud father of a very gifted child -- and why not?, sadly seems to be somewhat deluded.
A combination of "I used to be gifted but no one recognized that" and "here's a chance that my child might be extremely gifted" is a dangerous combination indeed, an almost-certain recipe for disaster.
While the father writes profusely about how advanced his children are in their physical and intellectual development and in particular how advanced his eldest son is in his knowledge of chemistry, I am mystified that nothing is said about this little boy's friends (if any) ... and the games he plays (if any) ....
The father's blog empasizes how bored he is with school, etc, but no mention of tears or tantrums. One gets the impression that this boy is very ordinary, very well-behaved, except that he is extremely clever in the area of chemistry.
He is so clever in chemistry that he sat his O Levels recently and came away with a 'C'. He is now being prepared for his 'A' Level chemistry, and that is why his parents are looking for a university where he could have lab facilities to carry on with his chemistry education. In The Times, a reader commented: Hello! This genius only got a 'C'! Implying that he is not that much of a genius really. Clearly this child has an exceptional memory, so I imagine he would do well in organic chemistry, as all you have to do at A levels is memorize about a hundred equations.
In a blog entry the father recounts his shock when prodigy son asked, "What do you get if you collide Calcium and Californium in a cyclotron?". The answer was apparently "Ununoctium". The father of prodigy has entitled this post "Socratic questions of a genius". Really? If you did a google search on these key terms you will find that just before this posting, this was the hottest news in the scientific world. Scientists believe that they have at last found element 118. It was so new that they had given it a temporary name "Ununoctium". If my son were to give me similar information, I would first ask, "Where did you read that? Show me," instead of delaring to the world that he asks "Socratic questions".
Father of prodigy mumbles about MENSA not being interested in his son. (MENSA does not test children under the age of 10-and-a-half, according to their website.) Then he writes several blog posts about how IQ is a con, and that it does not actually show one's intelligence. However, he also goes on about the genius of Rembrandt, and out of somewhere (source not quoted), tells us that Rembrandt, so clearly a genius, only had an IQ of 110. Well, elsewhere someone worked out that Rembrandt had an IQ of 155. Honestly, how these people managed to test or speculate the IQs of dead people is quite beyond me. I believe this child has never had his IQ assessed.
The prodigy is supposed have "written books" on science. Many children staple papers together to make 'books', and write their ideas, some original, some not, down and draw pictures to illustrate. It does not make these six-year-olds authors. My son also started on 'The Book of Everything", how wonderful was that? A book, booklet, leaflet, essay, is more than writing random thoughts down on pieces of paper.
In The Times article which first alerted the BBC to this genius, father of prodigy took offence at a comment by Joan Freeman (probably reported out of context, who knows?) that “to send a child to university at 7 is like you are not regarding him as a human being, but as a performing monkey”. He responded by saying that she had no right to comment unless she herself is a parent of a prodigy. Yeah, except that she happens to be a an expert on gifted children. And by his reasoning a psychiatrist cannot pronounce a diagnosis of schizophrenia (eg) on patients unless the psychiatrist himself had experienced schizophrenia. Just to give a flavour of the hysteria here.

I am a parent of a very gifted child, so I hope that gives me the right to comment. Two weeks ago my child was comprehensively tested by an educational psychologist. Despite scoring comparatively lower on 'social comprehension', he has an IQ in the 140s. In some areas he has the ability of a 16-year-old.

Anyone who reads "About my boy" will be familiar with the real struggles that he faces, the fears and anxieties, the need to be perfect, etc. It comes with the territory of being gifted.

It is precisely because we do not want to be in the position of: he's finished his A Levels at eight years old, what now? that we took pains to keep his interest in maths and science and a lot else in as broad a manner as possible without having to keep completing curricula for 'O' and 'A' Level exams. We believe there is more to life than sitting exams and going to university. (What good is university if you can't enjoy the social life? Come on!)

When your child is clever, you know he or she is clever. There is no need to prove to the world that he has Os and As under his belt at age seven, eight or nine.

The difficulty is -- and we sympathize with father of prodigy -- such children get very bored at class. Maintaining interest is a challenge.

But there are also areas that our gifted child is weak in. He knows that. He acknowledges some of these weaknesses, not all, and we are working on these. Football and penmanship are two. But bless his heart, in the last few months, he has been trying so hard to be better in these areas, without going overboard with feelings of underachievement.

Friends used to say, "Wow! He could say these words," or "Wow! He's already doing this." My reply was always, "Yeah, but your child will soon be catching up." And THEY HAVE in all the important areas that matter.

"I used to be gifted once."

I must have been. I got bored in class, but I was not disruptive. Then I got to the best school in Singapore on the basis of an EXAM. Then, as the girls have been recently recounting (gleefully) in our forum 30 years after we left that school, we started getting red marks, failing exams, realized we were not that bright after all.

Being gifted at aged eight does not guarantee that one will remain gifted for the rest of one's life. When in this top Singapore school I often thought "I must have peaked at 12." My school results never got better than when I was 12.

The rest of my academic career was rather lack-lustre. Not till after I finished my Bachelor's degree did I find it in me to move ahead academically. I have found my forte in research: designing research, formulating hypotheses, gathering information, writing up results, etc.

So in between supporting my parents financially, becoming a full-time Christian worker/missionary/minister of religion, and various other roles in between, I finally got to the PhD I really wanted.

People assume that I am clever because I have a PhD. Am I? The more I know, the more I know I don't know. That is the truth.

My son thinks he is very clever, because he is obviously very clever in some areas. But I am glad that I am able to tell him that it does not matter if he becomes ordinary again. In fact, part of me hopes and prays that he would not be off the scale in his progress in Maths, Science and French.

The advances he has made in his music is striking too. How anyone could practise maybe 5 minutes a day and still get a merit in his piano exam just ten months after his first ever lesson is beyond me. His teacher has another student, slightly younger, who also got a merit. This boy spends more than an hour every day practising the piano, and missed a distinction by three marks.

If my son were to practise an hour every day would he have got a distinction? I fear not, because repetition bores him, and he gets worse instead of better. But the exam curricula give him the skills to compose and improvise which give him (and us) much joy and pleasure.

I don't think we would ever be able to stop our son being interested in Maths, Science, French and music composition. But we encourage him in every way to study AROUND the subjects: history of maths, philosophy of science, different types of music, eg, instead of progressing him simply in the direction of school exams.

When he asks questions on trigonometry, we try to give him some answers, not brush him off. Then he is allowed to explore for himself. (So he goes and draws a 'sine wave'.) He was very keen to learn about quadratic equations, but when we talked about it, he realized that ah, he needs to learn algebra first, and he's not really into that at the moment. We (gladly) let the subject drop.

On the advice of the psychologist we are not going to push him in academia at all. We practise no spellings or times tables. Instead we are working on his social skills.

And no, the last thing we want is for him to finish his 'A' levels in two years' time. What good is an 18-year-old mind trapped in a 9-year-old body?

What a refreshing change to read this: The Downside of Being a Child Prodigy

Love Me Tender

2007-11-07T13:27:00.000Z

I had arranged a meeting in the afternoon.

Yesterday son came home to tell me parents are invited to today's concert at school. So I had to re-schedule the meeting.

What joy to see him singing 'Consider Yourself' and 'Food Glorious Food' so confidently with the rest of his mates.

He wanted to play 'Ode to Joy' on his clarinet, but one of his best mates is playing that on the violin. After chatting with the teacher, he decided to play 'Love Me Tender'.

He did well. No squeaks. Good tone. Must work on breath control though.

Interestingly he had chosen the clarinet, not the piano, which he is able to play far better than any of his classmates.

A part of me wonders if this is because he thought it was rude to come across as being too good. Is this a sign that he is trying to fit in?

His answer to my probing was a simple: the clarinet is more of a challenge.

So I got asked by other parents how long he had been playing the clarinet.

He started in September at the start of term and had six half-hour lessons.

Growing up

2007-10-30T14:16:00.001Z

It's been two weeks of half-term break and I am thrilled to see/feel how our son has 'matured'.

Last Friday we took him to a Thai restaurant. He was very well behaved, all things considered, and was most fascinated by the naked flame on our table.

Then he's learned to say things like, "O! Why are you wearing THAT?"

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"I've never seen it before. You look very nice in it."

From little things like taking his crockery back to the kitchen to making his bed without being told (though he sometimes forgets), he seems to be more in charge of himself.

There are still the signs of frustration when he is not able to cope with some things in life, but he's getting better all the time.

We often forget: he is only seven.

Any way, today (Wednesday) he came home asking me to write a note to his music teacher to say he does wish to perform on the clarinet for the children in the Junior School. On Thursday he discussed this with the teacher and decided that he would play Elvis Presley's "Love Me Tender".

He's not actually played this even for his clarinet tutor. So I think he is a very brave boy.

Piano exams around the corner. His sight-reading is still not brilliant but is improving. His exam pieces however seem to be 'over-practised'. He gets them wrong when we know he could get them right. So I am not hard on him when he does not bother to practise.

I am a bad mother!!

A Colour Badge - Boy Done Good

2007-10-13T20:53:00.000+01:00

Last day of school yesterday before the start of a two-week half-term break.

I edged away from a conversation between two new parents, one of whom was asking about a Maths tutor for her son.

Then another mum approached the group of mothers I was with and asked if Thursday's maths homework was a bit of a struggle. She said she took a very long time to explain the intricacies of the different mathematical concepts to her son. Another said they took 40 minutes to complete it.

One of the mums said to me, "Obviously, your son must have completed it without any problems."

Well, he didn't.

I now know why my son had a worried look on his face when I picked him up on Thursday. They had been warned that Maths homework was supposed to be quite difficult, so it's OK if they did not complete the second part.

Even before he got his shoes off my son whipped out his worksheet and sitting at the bottom of the stairs, we read through it.

It was history of the Romans in Britain combined with maths. So questions like "If he started out with one legion and eight joined him each day, how many did he have when he arrived at Londinium?" (Answer: 25)

And "When the Roman army finally faced the Celtic army, the Celtic women fought beside their husbands. They were all killed with the Celtic army. If one in every two Celtic soldiers had a wife, what fraction of the Celtic army in its final battle was women?" (Answer: 1/3)

They had to add several numbers together, including the denominator (3) from that last question to arrive at a final 'check number'.

My son got the fraction wrong, so his answers did not tally with the 'check number'. But he duly went back to try to think through the question.

Fearing that he would go into one of his shouting rages, I offered to explain it to him.

"No, no, no, I must work this out myself."

He tried using a number (100) to work out the fraction. I suggested he didn't.

"No, don't interrupt me! I must do this myself!"

Then, "One -third. The answer is one-third."

Ironically this was the first piece of homework he found "enjoyable" this half-term. It made him think, and though he initially got the answers wrong, he was not afraid to go back to it and when the pieces fell into place he was a very happy boy.

Any way, there we were waiting for our boys when my son approached, grinning ear to ear, "Have you noticed something different about me?"

He was wearing a little round blue badge on his lapel. A colour! He has been awarded a colour!

"This is for hard work. We get to wear it for the rest of the term. If we keep up with the good work, we get to keep wearing it."

Then he let on that he was given the wrong colour at Assembly. The badge should reflect his house colour. Of course he didn't know this at first. Anyway a teacher spotted the mistake and he was given the correct colour by the end of the day. Only one other boy (his best mate) in his class was awarded a colour.

He also came home with his 'grade card'. 'A1' in French and Music amongst other very good grades.

Boy done good!

Winning Goal

2007-10-11T21:40:00.000+01:00

Yes, when he should be sleeping, son slipped downstairs to say, while they were playing football at PE today, he managed to score the winning goal. Well done!

French

2007-10-09T21:32:00.000+01:00

After several attempts to see the Headmaster, son finally had his Blue Card validated. He is very pleased.

The senior French teacher also sent two of her senior boys to son's class and 'marched' him and his best mate (who was also awarded a Blue Card for French) to her own class to listen to their demonstration, to ensure that they were of a sufficiently high standard to deserve the Blue Card.

Well, looks like they passed the test. The Form VI boys applauded their efforts, I was told. Later on when son was finishing his Prep in 'Late Class' because I was helping to set up the hall for a PTA event, the head boy (whose mother was helping me) said to son that his French was really very good.

Yesterday we were told that his French teacher had asked him and his mate to coach the other boys so that they could also get those Blue Cards. However, the other boys chose to play football instead of going to these two for extra coaching at play-time. I'm not surprised.

Son has also been immensely helpful as we prepared for Quiz Night last Saturday. Dad had to work most of Saturday despite a cold and when he got home, it was not fair to expect him to attend Quiz Night.

Son was distraught over his B Minor scale (left hand) in the morning. He lost it. So did I, as I was feeling a bit stressed out about the Quiz Night arrangements. We talked. He went back to the piano, and then he got it, that B Minor.

It's always like that, it seems. It has to become so very bad before he lets himself have a chance to succeed. Weird.

Played a football match yesterday. (We only discovered in the morning that they were doing this.) He was in good spirits and positive (they lost again). Supposed to play another match this afternoon, but it was rained off.

Instead we made it to the school wind and brass concert, featuring the boys (and guests) who play various wind and brass instruments (and drums, too). There were no clarinets. Son was not invited to play this year (he's only had four lessons), but we like to think that this time next year he might be playing something really bluesy at this concert. He likes blues.

I'm tired. (See other blog)

Being obtuse again

2007-10-02T08:55:00.000+01:00

At prayers last night I said we should pray for another mum who is in hospital.

Then we talked about medical conditions being chronic or acute. (He knows Dad has a chronic disease.)

His cheeky face lit up, "So are there obtuse diseases?"

Deja vu and carte bleue

2007-10-01T21:34:00.000+01:00

Son and mates played another match today. It was an 'away' game at a school unfamiliar to us parents so most of the boys were bussed back to school.

It was a dismal day, weather-wise. They lost all the games. But surprisingly my son was chirpy. He seemed to have enjoyed the match even though they hadn't won.

It was a very positive spirit and I congratulated him on that.

What disturbed me was his accounts of how a classmate has 'threatened' him with words like, "I will take you to the park and whack you hard," etc. There was talk of blood and all that. This classmate also demanded to have all the money from my son's piggy bank if my son does not want him at our house before his best friend gets there.

Huh? Pardon?

It was not even that my son was being bullied. He didn't let any of this bother him, he claimed. But I was very disturbed that a fellow seven-year-old could use such language and think such violent thoughts. Clearly there was no way he was going to carry this out, but still ....

My son said that his classmate was probably feeling (and he acted this out: a crying baby). This other young man was probably a little jealous of someone else being invited to our house, and not him.

"But you can't get people to become your friend by threatening them," I said.

My son was not even bothered. He seemed to have learned to stick up for himself. Good for him.

But the big question is: do I approach the parent of this other boy to alert him of these thoughts that are being expressed by his son?

The other news is son has got his first 'Blue Card'. The school has a system of rewarding good effort, results, behaviour, etc with points for the House. They earn a House point here, and a House point there, and at the end of every term, the biggest cheer at end-of-term assembly is for the winning House.

My son is an avid earner of House points. The Blue Card is worth a whole dix points. Today he and his best friend were awarded the first Blue Cards for the Form for their ability in speaking French. These cards have then to be validated by the Headmaster.

Son is looking forward to seeing the Headmaster soon to show him the Carte Bleue and to demonstrate his fluency in saying:

Good morning, Mr B.

[Mr B answers.] How are you?

I am fine, thank you. And you?

[Mr B to answer.]

My name is ----. I am seven years old. I live in ------ in England. The name of my school is ---- ----. Etc, etc.

Can't wait to hear what he has to say about this experience.

Not the 'A' Team

2007-09-27T21:24:00.000+01:00

When I got to the football ground I was embarrassed to find that I was the only mum from son's class to be there.

It was our wedding anniversary -- our nineth -- and I had plans to do as little as possible. But son wanted me at his football game. So there I was jumping up and down by the goal-line of the opposing team. They had a larger fan club.

But the goal-keeper was really bored. All the action was on the other side of the pitch.

My son's team was thrashed. O, never mind.

I was heartened, however, to see that he was taking an active part and had indeed made many good defensive moves to keep the score difference down.

Amongst other things, they had at one point, the boy with the smallest stature at goal. The opposition kicked the ball so hard he managed to catch hold of the ball but the momentum of the kick pushed him across the line, at which point he dropped the ball. So it was a goal to the opposition.

At other times this and the other goal-keepers had their backs to the rest of the team, watching the 'A' team battle it out on the adjoining pitch. "Stand in front of the goal line!" I found myself shouting at whoever was at goal.

It was hilarious. It was.

The other consolation is the boys whom I know have been taking football lessons weren't any better than my son. So, there!

When we got home there was still homework to do.

Made it to the football team

2007-09-25T08:59:00.000+01:00

Son did manage to get to school yesterday (Monday). I was on edge all day waiting for the school to phone to say he needed to be brought home.

No phone call came.

The football match they were supposed to play was postponed due to an administrative oversight.

Pick-up time: son was smiling after having three periods of 'Games' in the afternoon. He was excited.

He had been picked to play in the postponed football match now on Wednesday. He would have to miss the theatre visit of a group presenting Wizard of Oz, but "who cares?" he said.

He's not in the 'A' team, but in the 'Mixed' (meaning mixed ability, I think) team. But who cares? And he has the right attitude towards it, too.

But this morning, there was a moan about having to go to school. It's swimming day and again he's not feeling confident about his swimming. Sigh. After having done so well to "escape" being put in the "beginners club" he is finding swimming very tedious.

Fever Las Vegas!

2007-09-23T12:28:00.000+01:00

Young man woke up early yesterday with something bothering his throat. But he didn't let him affect his activities too much.

By evening, however, it was clear that he was not well. It was difficult to get him -- wrapped in his favourite blanket from head to toe -- away from watching the Elvis impersonators on TV, but I managed and sponged him down.

When he got to bed he was able to say, "I'm feeling a bit drowsy now ...."

He was perspiring a lot in his sleep and yet drew the duvet well up to his neck. This morning it appeared that the fever had finally subsided, but it could just be the effect of the medicine.

Any how, he is good as gold and being most polite. He's always most polite when he is most unwell.

I am not complaining.

He had been going on about a football match at school tomorrow. He's been trying very hard to improve in his football and would really like to put his new skills to the test.

We shall see whether he even gets to school.

Being obtuse

2007-09-20T12:58:00.001+01:00

Yesterday, as a special treat, I bought a little chocolate fudge cake, organic, of course.

Just as well, because son was not very pleased when he got home. He had been to 'Fun Choir'. It appears that the older boys were asked to vote who was the best singer amongst the youngest boys, and vice-versa.

Son thought -- it goes without saying -- that he was very good, but every older boy bar one voted for the youngest boy in the choir. One brave soul voted for one of son's good friend. But nobody voted for him at all.

He couldn't contain himself any more when we sat down to have our snack (said chocolate fudge cake). "Why didn't even ONE boy vote for me? I can't understand! B-- was rubbish and mucking about and yet they voted for him."

It wasn't made easier when one of these older boys said to him as we were going home, "... you were the best. Really, you were the best."

Look of distress on son's face and then, "If I was the best, then why did everyone vote for B--?"

It took some time to calm him down. I can't think why it mattered so much to him that someone "at least showed appreciation" of him.

Any way he did cheer up after this. But he couldn't have any more cake after dinner as it was past six o'clock. Chocolate after six makes it quite difficult for him to fall asleep.

This morning he looked at the cake and said, "I am going to have a piece with an obtuse angle. That will leave Dad with one with an acute angle."

"What is an obtuse angle?" I asked.

"One that is more than 90 degrees."

"And acute?"

"Less than 90 degrees."

"Have you been learning about angles at school?"

"Of course not!"

"Then how do you know obtuse and acute?"

"From a book, perhaps?"

He then proceeded to show me a "reflex angle".