One day your child is a toddler happily scribbling his name on the white living room walls with tomato ketchup. Then in a blink of an eye that child is two inches taller than you and has started making you blush with quotes from the US Office TV Series.
###########
“Hawklad did you enjoy the trip out”
Yes Dad it was cool. Not too busy and definitely fun. Did you enjoy it Dad.
“Yes Son, I did. I just wish it had lasted longer“
Dad….That’s what she said……
###########
2022….
Well the most has gone. That might even be the smallest patch of blue sky.
Can you spot the bird of prey gatecrashing the photo.
No zoom on the mobile, so this is the best I can do. The Gatecrasher.
I meet this gatecrasher every morning when I come down this lane, usually sat on the overhead power line. Such a thrill.
Soon we were on the road to the local wildlife park. A New Year Day Tradition which went on covid hold last year. This year we will arrive as it opens, wear masks and keep our distances. To protect others. Make sure we leave before the crowds arrive. The two of us have done this every year since Hawklad was a toddler. Just the two of us. His mum always decided to give it a miss, preferring a day at home. Maybe TV. Maybe catch up on sleep. It is an early start and a 90 minute drive. A quiet house can be very appealing. If she had realised time was so limited would she have stayed at home. Put things off repeatedly for another year.
I think I know the answer to that…..
Some choices you don’t get a second crack at them.
Guess what. More mist…..
So Hawklad’s School Production Line Report arrived today. His best subjects ranked by school as his worst subjects, possible fails. His weakest subjects ranked better. Lots of random grades and targets. No pattern.
Then a pattern.
The few subjects where the teacher has looked at his work. Made suggestions. Actually tracked his work while he has been away from the classroom, tried to be proactive, these are his highest ranking subjects on the report. The subjects that are no more than borderline fails are the subjects where the teacher effectively has not been there for Hawklad during his homeschooling days. The subjects featuring no marking, no feedback, at best just minimal work sent out.
Does this show the inaccuracies of a metrics based report without any context.
Does it just show that because of the excessive teacher workloads, those pupils away from the classroom just suffer educationally.
Does it show that some teachers still fall back on assumptions. Pupils with unique educational needs are just shoehorned into the bottom set, labelled low attainment. Much more productive to spend teaching time on other pupils
Does it show a school system ravaged by a pandemic.
Does it show the way forward for Hawklad.
I’m not sure yet. I’m kind of too tired to process all this yet. But it’s clear as we move into the new year, to me Hawklad is making massive strides forward especially given the challenges he is having to deal with. It’s also yet another year which starts with the a school system which for whatever the reason, apparently isn’t delivering for Hawklad. Another year of battles with school.
HAPPY NEW YEAR, let’s all dust ourselves down and go again. We can do this.
More mist.
More confusion.
So the school end of term report arrived today. Lots of numbers, lots of letters, hardly any words. No individualised teacher comments, each pupil reduced to performance data. As I tried to figure out the metrics and what that means for Hawklad, a thought crossed my mind. The Government doesn’t see individual children, they just see production assets. That’s why the school report now is basically a factory production line quality control card.
They don’t see the children, they just see the greater good. The greater good as seen through the politician’s eyes. Those are not pure eyes, they are not trustworthy eyes in my country.
Surely our children deserve better than this.
Definitely feels like the we are about to walk into the opening scenes of the movie, Gladiator. Maybe once I had a passing resemblance to Maximus 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣. Very passing….. Thankfully no barbarian hoards this time although our squirrels can get a bit frisky.
As we walked I asked Hawklad about the imminent recommencement of the school at home project. Is there anything I could do to make it run better for him.
Nothing he could think of apart from me upping my IQ into double figures.
Ok, is there anything I can get in or buy that would help him. Text books, supplies, tech, tutor support. He thought carefully for a while, finally concluding
Yes there is. As he would still be largely cut off from others, then …..
WE NEED MORE BOARD GAMES
I never saw that one coming. But actually that is a top idea. He needs to have fun. So it’s time for a board game search of the house and then let’s see what Amazon has to offer. He will get more from them than he will ever get from another text book.
Rapidly deteriorating vision. Oh the delights of wearing glasses in bad weather.
At least bad weather does bring out the full Yorkshire Moodiness.
Today Hawklad told me that he’s not going back to school next week. He feels that it’s beyond him currently. I can’t say that I’m exactly surprised by his call. So I’ve emailed school so they are aware. I also attached the latest medical exemption letter provided by the NHS. Those letters are like gold dust here. The exemption was provided just before Christmas, so they didn’t think he was going back as well. With that letter, the Government can’t take me to court for being a bad parent. Up yours Boris.
So as of the middle of next week, here we go again on the school at home project. Fast approaching two years now….. Never saw that coming. One day I might just figure out what I’m supposed to be doing as a teaching parent. But to be fair, I can’t remember seeing that on the parenting job description.
Another day, more weather.
At least it’s starting to dry up a tad….
Anybody like mud, we have plenty to spare in the fields around us.
The weather brought hope. Maybe fewer crowds, so it would be quiet enough for Hawklad. Unfortunately not quiet enough. We arrived at a remote abbey ruins to find a busy, small, muddy car park with just a few spaces. Just a handful of cars but still too many. So we returned home. Hawklad is still no where near returning to the classroom.
Back home and safe. No crowds here. Hot chocolate and biscuits on top. Time for board games. It’s so much easier for Hawklad here and if he wants mud, no need to jump in a car. Another attempt at a trip out can wait for tomorrow now.
And still it rains.
Oh no, another bath coming his way….
Oh no, I’m cleaning the bath and floors, again. I suspect I won’t be getting any help from him….
As that bath was being administered to Captain Chaos I again pondered life. How on earth has he got mud on the ceiling. As no one will be visiting anytime soon, does it really matter if I don’t immediately clean it off. No bathroom visitors this year, no bathroom visitors the year before. I’m not sure Santa ever uses the bathroom on his big day. That must be some bladder he’s got. I think I would be paying a visit several times in each country visited. Would take me months to deliver the presents. Anyway, will there be any visitors next year. But as my parents would probably say – if you don’t clean it then there will visitors.
So do I want visitors or don’t I….
Depends who the visitors are…. Santa won’t be here for another year.
Best take no chances, so the ceiling was cleaned. But while I was up there I noticed more bathroom cleaning duties. I really hope Santa didn’t pay a visit here. If he did then I’m clearly heading for the naughty list. So I ended up deep cleaning the bathroom. All because the mad, 63 month old pup got muddy. It’s his fault. It’s his fault I have a spotless bathroom. Spotless and still no visitors.
There is something truly magical about a Walk in the Woods when the weather has closed in. It can be the start of so many stories and adventures.
A planned meet-up with my sister failed today. Hawklad agreed to go for it and then my sisters car went on strike. These things happen. A distraction would have been good. Just one of those days in which Hawklad’s anxieties spiked. When they hit, they hit in waves. Not just one thing, a range of things. When he gets kind of on top of one thing, two more jump in to replace them. Doesn’t matter that it’s Christmas Eve, these anxiety waves can hit at any time. They confuse his thought process. They cause him sensory overload. They stop him in his tracks.
I know what it’s feels like. I’ve been there as well.
Distraction sometimes works. Pacing about. Scooby Doo. Lego. Walks. But at some stage we have to work through the anxieties. Try to unpick them. Put them into context. Do what we can.
Slowly this time, the waves begin to subside. You can tell when he is getting there. The first signs
“Dad where is The Big Red Fella on Track Santa”
On his way to Madagascar apparently. He arrives in 7 minutes.
“I wonder just how many in England have been put on the naughty list this year”
It’s probably more a massive database than a list. You won’t be on it.
“Dad you are officially on the naughty list with that jumper of yours. Even Elton John wouldn’t wear that.”
I will have you know it’s a handmade Italian climbing sweater.
“Which they export for muppets like you to buy because no self respecting Italian will ever wear that.”
Harsh but fair….
“Why in earth is it about three sizes to big for you…”
I bought it when I was climbing in Wales years ago. My size was standard price but the garden shed size was 80% off. That’s a bargain I couldn’t turn down.
“But it’s far too big for you…”
It’s not that big….
“Dad there’s more room in that jumper than in our loft, a family of 4 could live in there”
That’s mostly down to all the weight I’ve lost on my diets…
“If only Dad….”
Ok. It is a tad big. I can change my T-shirt without taking it off. But I could give it to you. Think of it as a precious hand me down from father to son.
“Just NO. That would really give me something to worry about…..”
####he chuckled at that one, that’s a good sign###
Another day, another one of those days……
Absolutely no sign of the sun. Unremittingly damp, cold and bleak. Our poor outdoor solar festive lights have now officially gone on strike. Switch them on and there is just about enough power generated to muster a dim flicker and then nothing.
I can’t begin to tell you just how wet and muddy I got on today’s walk. but it was still good to be outside. There is always things to see.
That is a seriously impressive Hay Snake.
Yesterday I talked about the fantastic reading progress Hawklad has made. Reading history textbooks is a real statement. But things are never straightforward. He still really struggles with writing. Getting his ideas out on paper. Here his dyslexia still dominates. His handwriting just won’t develop. His typing is laboured and inaccurate. His ideas don’t reach the paper.
He feels so much frustration when he can’t make much progress in this area. And he does feel real frustration. He can now read. He has an amazing mind and can visualise things that are way beyond me. Ask him something like to list all the British Monarchs in order, and it’s a breeze for him. Ask him who where the defendants at Nuremberg and he can name them, including the verdicts. Ask him to work out a complex sum in his head and he can do it effortlessly. Yet ask him to add to simple decimals together and he is lost. Ask him to tell the time and as hard as he tries, he just can’t. Ask him to list the alphabet and he just can’t get the order right after D.
It’s tough seeing your son get so down on himself. I feel his frustration intensely. As a parent you feel like you have run out of ideas. It’s impossible to not get down on yourself as well. But that’s not helping anyone. When tomorrow comes and Hawklad is again trying his heart out, and he will. He hasn’t given up. He won’t give up. I’m the one who needs to get going again. So that’s why those walks in nature are so important. Even in bad weather and unlike those solar lights, I do recharge. So we can try again tomorrow.
A Dad trying to cope with the loss of his Partner and becoming a single parent. 