Conversations with my son (1)

Or not, as the case might be.

Which 15-year-old son wants to talk to his mum?

Not mine. Takes some getting used to. But I live in hope that one day he would find talking to me less daunting.

Careers.

Many people who have known him from primary school have been very impressed by his prowess at Maths and sciences. And English. And French. And Latin ....

What to do in his future, and which subjects to choose for his Pre-Us (not A Levels) has been under a lot of discussion.

Over Christmas, it was 'classics'.

But we have not found a university where he could do both Classics as well as Maths, except at St Andrews (Scotland) and other advice has been: stick to Oxbridge.

Three weeks down the road and another interview with a careers adviser, it could possibly be Physics and Philosophy. Unless he could find a place to do Maths and Philosophy.

More interestingly, it transpired that he was told that he could consider being a dentist, upon which information I nearly choked. As I had wanted very much to be a dentist, but then thought better of it. Thank God for that!

Philosophy was an untouchable subject amongst Christian students when I was at university. It was supposed to steer us away from our faith.

Well, I studied it for three years as a major student, asked many questions about my faith and, well, I am still a Christian.

Had I remembered to turn over my exam paper on Buddhistic Philosophy I would have sailed into the Philosophy Honours class and my career trajectory would have been rather different.

And now my son is contemplating studying Philosophy. How intriguing!

Scholar and Gentleman

It's been nearly two years since I posted here.

In the last week we had the very good news that son has been offered an academic scholarship to a very academic school not so far from our house.

He was on his school ski trip when we found out. So I made a banner to welcome him home with the news. He was chuffed.

Yesterday he returned with the news that in a history 'test' with 800 boys he has been ranked 20th. Today he sat part 2 of the 'test'. He came home feeling confident as well.

History was not something he took to so easily. His grades were never all that good. But in the last two years he was determined to do better, and do better he has, scoring A grades.

We've had lots of run-ins with his music. He still finds it hard to knuckle down to practise.

Just before Christmas we learned that his teacher (who teaches him at school) was going to stop teaching. A bit of a panic.

We got him the other piano teacher at school who made me realize that son had come a long way on half-hour lessons in school, during term time only. Then son lets on that often the lessons were about 20 minutes. Sometimes the former teacher just did not show up.

How son got this far is just unbelievable. He could have gone so much further.

Then there was the problem of bullying. The boy who grudged him his hockey colour has been such a pain.

I think this young man is to be pitied. He does not show obvious talent in the four main fields at school: academic, music, art, sport, or even drama. Significantly his parents push him in the academic direction.

When your child is not academic, your child is not academic.

So I wonder if this child might be happier doing something he enjoys and is good at. Cooking? Woodwork perhaps?

Hockey colour, but ...

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

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

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

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 ...

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"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!

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.