Missing...

... one blogger's Inspiration.  Specifically, this blogger's inspiration.

It seems that the last few weeks of constant moving about - for seven weeks I didn't go longer than one week without packing and unpacking the family suitcases, and frequently the turn-around was more like 2 days - have completely taken it out of me mentally.  My brain has decided that enough is enough; after nearly 2 months of keeping track of where we were headed next, how we were going to get there, and what I had left where and with whom, it is not - absolutely NOT! - going to be bothered with coming up with anything creative to put out onto t'internet.

But I've been at this game a while now, and I know that the longer you leave it between posts, the harder it gets to write one so guess what, Inspiration?  I got bored waiting for you to get off your dainty bottom and visit me, and went and found some stimulus elsewhere.

To that end, Feather & Black, the lovely people who sell bedroom furniture and gorgeous children's beds, have asked me to participate in their Midsummer Nights Dream Blogger Challenge, an offer which I gratefully accepted.  The basic premise is that they will post 4 pictures on their facebook page, and participating bloggers write a story based on those.  (You can see the first photograph here).  Participating bloggers will post their entries on their own blogs on or before 17th September to compete for the chance to win a £500 prize - and the prize will be awarded to the story which wins the most votes overall.

I love children's stories, and even have a bit of practice at writing them (well, it's one way to entertain your children during bathtime), so I thought this would be a great way to kick start the blog mojo and get back on top of what I have publicly stated as my aim for the next 3 months; to get writing.

Based on the first image, I have a few ideas.  Time will tell, though, if they fit with the next three pictures...

What I've learned this summer: Part 3

After nearly 7 weeks away, I am totally, utterly, and completely ready to go Home.

We are back to Moscow for Tuesday next week, when normal blog service will be resumed...

What I've learned this summer; Part 2

... that I could never home school my children.  Well - actually, make that one of my children.  Whilst Boy #1 isn't exactly delighted about spending time on his books over the summer he will do it, but getting Boy #2 to do even 30 minutes of school-related 'stuff' a day is mentally and physically exhausting for both of us once you factor in the negotiation, reasoning, explanations, chasing around the house, and coming up with yet more reasons why learning to read could possibly be something worth doing.

How we've managed 8 weeks of this is something that will never cease to amaze me.


... that sometimes celebrities really DO act the way you imagine they would.  We're staying with friends in our old stamping ground in South Kensington right now and yesterday bumped into a UK B-lister in the supermarket.

I had always assumed that in 'real life' the celebrity we encountered would be a little more low key than in the press, but as she breezed past us in the queue for the tills (calling the Boys 'dudes' as she did so, much to Husband's delight when I told him about it later), struggled with the self-service tills before asking for help from the cashier - thus getting herself to the front of the normal queue and allowing her to add a last minute purchase of a couple of bottles of vodka to her basket - all the while looking glamorous, babe-licious and a good 10 years younger than she has any right to considering the amount of - ahem - 'living' she's done, I realised that some of the time at least, her private and public personas are the same.

This impression was compounded when I followed her out of the shop to find her convertible parked half-on, half-off the pavement as she strode across the street on her sky-high heels to use the cash point, before climbing into her car and driving off, only to stop again 30 seconds later in the middle of traffic to talk to a bunch of male cyclists (doing a cancer-related publicity stunt wearing nude-effect body stockings), as she found out what they were up to and promised to give them a mention on air.

And no - I am not going to tell you who it was...


... that coming back to your old stamping ground - which you still love, and where you still own a flat - is not necessarily going to help you make an objective decision about how long to stay away from it or indeed, if you should even aim to return there at all.

What I've learned this Summer: Part 1

.... that Biarritz is quite like Cornwall - but with better croissants, and more bikinis on the beach.

... that, on the coast of South West France at least, going topless is no longer de rigeur.

... that those who DO go topless, perhaps shouldn't.

... that after all those years of hiding in a one piece, it's only now I'm 45 and probably should know better, that I finally have the confidence to wear a bikini myself*.

... that my sons love ALL types of seafood, knocking back oysters, pulling the curly bits out of whelks and winkles, and attacking dismembered crab with a gusto that I still haven't managed to acquire myself.

... that I can force myself to pretend I love seafood if in the presence of my sons in the hope this will lead to their becoming adventurous eaters in the long term, but...

... that I'm still not that keen on it, actually.

...that the French word for crab is... 'crabe'.


* This may have something to do with the fact that if you wore a one-piece you were in such a minority you stood out as much as if you were topless...

A confession

Bless me, blog-world for I have sinned.

My last post was nearly 2 weeks ago. (Two weeks? How on earth did that happen?)  Since then I have been on holiday, without t'internet..

Turn out that blogging is a bit of a habit - which I seem to have got out of.  Consequently, I'll keep this post brief, and hope that Inspiration - that cheeky madam - returns tomorrow.

Or the day after.

Tot ziens!

Summer Learning Loss: should I be bothered?

I may have mentioned on here - once or twice-  how long my sons' summer holidays are, but just in case you missed it due to having been uninterested in our goings on over the last month (hard to believe, but I'm prepared to consider that possibility), here it is again;

Ten weeks.

Or, if you work better in figures: 10 weeks.

That's 70 days. 50 school days.  Or, to put it another way, 350 hours (based on the average amount of hours they spend in class on a school day).

In fact, over the summer, the Boys are off on holiday for a longer period of time than any when they are continuously in school throughout the school year, once you take into account half term and other holidays.

Now, I recall my 6 week summer holidays - whilst I was at primary school - as stretching out seemingly for ever.  I know I can't possibly have lived the 1950's Enid Blyton style existence I remember, but when I look back I see weeks spent on the south coast (foreign holidays didn't feature for us, particularly), cream teas, late evenings, and after breakfast the next day, packing up sandwiches and heading off for days of adventuring in the countryside around home.  We would wave goodbye to Mum at around 10am and turn up in time for tea later that afternoon.  There were books to be read, camp-outs in the garden to be had, and of course not so infrequent spats with my younger sister to fit in.

What I can't remember is any pressure to do school work over the summer break.

And yet, here I am, 35 years later,  with 2 children of my own, determined that whilst we are all going to have fun and relax over the holidays, Boys #1 and #2 will not fall prey to Summer Learning Loss*.

This does not mean I have enrolled them in maths camps and science seminars (although we did all have fun at the Holland Park Ecology Centre on Monday spending a couple of hours pond dipping in the name of learning about amphibians), but it does mean that they each spend half an hour every Monday to Friday morning doing something approaching school work.  Boy #1, who's reading is more than fantastic, gets to practice some basic math problems (not his preferred school subject) and to work on his handwriting, (sometimes by writing letters to friends which I scan and email to their parents), and Boy #2 and I 'discuss' (for which read, 'battle over') sight words and number bonds.

We have a reward structure in place; at the end of a 4 week period when they've done 30 minutes or more for 5 days in those weeks, they get to go and pick out a reasonably-priced toy.  Negotiations on what 'reasonably priced' actually means are currently underway; since the first 'reward day' is this Friday, I think we need to reach an agreement on that sharpish...

Having come this far - we're now nearly 6 weeks into the summer break** with only 4 left to go - I'm hoping that we'll manage to maintain momentum for the next month and that the shock for them of returning to more structured learning come the end of August won't be as great as it might otherwise have been.  Every now and again though, as I cajole Boy #2 to 'look at the word' in the hope he might remember 'had' next time (yes, it is like that), I do ask myself if this is the right thing to do.

It's 30 minutes in a day.  That's not so much to ask them to do, surely?  Or am I just being an over-anxious mother; should I instead just chill out and let them do whatever they want over the loooooonnnnggg summer break?

Discuss.

If only all biology lessons could be like this...

* In case you're not familiar with this term (ha!),  it refers to the loss of children's academic skills and knowledge over the summer break.  See here for Wikipedia's entry on the subject.

** Yes, you did read that right. We have already had one and a half months of summer holidays.  How the hell did that happen?

Too good not to share...

A friend told me today how her 6 year old, who had been going to swim camp unwillingly all summer, won 1st place in the back-stroke race at the end of the season.

When she congratulated him on doing so well and swimming so fast, this was his reply:

"Well, I really don't like backstroke, so I just decided to get it over with as quickly as possible."

Whatever works, eh?