Mrs Grass Head

I am the first to admit I am no good at gardening or looking after indoor plants. I have no idea how to look after plants. I have offended my mother-in-law on more than one occasion by accidentally (through sheer neglect) bringing about the death of every plant she has ever bought me. Needless to say, she does not buy plants for me now. I have even asked Big J to help, but as you can see, he has more disrespect for plants than I do!
The only plant (okay, I know it's not classed as a 'plant') I have managed to keep alive is a cactus, and quite frankly, you would have to be completely stupid to let one of those die. I used to have lots of them. Mmm... not sure exactly what happened to them. (No further questions. Thank you!)

On mother's day (No, I'm not starting all that again) Big J bought me a "Mrs Grass Head". You know the ones. They have a little mesh bag with seeds at the top, then filled with soil and tied off at the bottom. This one also has nobbly bits tied off at the sides and front to look like ears and a nose. It has a bit of string dangling from the bottom so that when you sit it into the little terracotta pot, the water soaks up the string to the grass head and makes the grass seed grow so it looks like hair. Yes, it would have been much easier to just put a picture here to show you.

So, I set it up following the instructions on the box and put it in the corner of the conservatory out of the way of curious little people. That was about ten days ago. I suddenly remembered this morning that it was there and thought it would probably have died by now as I had forgotten to keep it topped up with water. Oops!

When I went to find it, I was amazed to find that she was in desperate need of a hair cut. Here she is! Isn't she great.



I am now deciding what style to cut the hair into. Any suggestions?

If you would like to make your own grass seed man, please click here.

Parents' Evening

I actually summoned up enough motivation to go to work yesterday. After having a week off due to my lost voice (which I had gradually said goodbye to the week before at Twyford Primary) and then another week off after my mushroom poisoning incident (not really needing the full week off but taking it anyway - what's the point of being a supply teacher if you can't take a few days off when you feel like it!) I thought I ought to go back to work or else it may never happen!

I got a nice day's supply in Year 3 at Whiteley Primary. The day went well. We had no numeracy or literacy (which meant no marking), started the day with RE (okay, a little marking, but not much!) then Art, in which the children were making the body of their animal sculptures out of plastic bags and masking tape ready to cover with paper and paste the next lesson and then finally paint (Great idea. I will use that myself), French, which was taught by the French teacher, so I just had to sit and watch, and then Music (Don't let's talk about that!) I took the 3 minutes the class owed me (at least!) from wasting my lesson time during the afternoon and they went home at 3.18pm. A short trip down the motorway, picking Big J up on the way and I was home by 4pm. Fantastic. I was ready to relax for the evening, when PP reminded me I had Little Z's parents' evening to go to at 6.30pm.

So far, every time I have been to parents' evening, I have been told "She is a daydreamer!" or "She is a chatterbox!" so I was expecting something along those lines again. As I sat on the little chair (5 sizes to small for my bum!) at the little table (it's a bit like Dennis Waterman on "Little Britain")Mrs T (no relation to Mr T!) looked at me and beemed. "I am so pleased with how Little Z's reading has come along. She has made such progress and seems to be coming on in leaps and bounds." Wow! She went on to say similar things about her writing. She said Little Z has lots of friends (where previously she would only play with one or two children or maybe choose to walk around with the teacher). I am really pleased.

The last time I spoke to this teacher on parents' evening, I had my notebook and had to raise a few issues which I thought were affecting Little Z's confidence. I really feel like they have taken on board what I have said and that it has paid off. I don't think I can ask for more than that. I think it goes to show what a good school it is and so I am keeping my fingers crossed that the internal promotion of the Reception Year teacher to Deputy Head leads to the position being advertised as "Suitable for an NQT".

I am aware, though, that it is not just the teacher who has made changes. I also appreciate that Little Z has had to work very hard to make such improvements this term, so well done to her. I am very proud of her.

Like a Duck to Water!

Since early this morning, Little Z and Big J (encouraged by Little Z) have been asking to play with water. We had a few bits of shopping to do, so I said that when we got home and had had some lunch I would fill a big tub with water and they could play in the garden together with some of the bath toys and plastic containers etc.

We arrived home from shopping to feel the first few spots of rain. The rain did not stop and so after lunch I thought we would find something different to do. The children, however, wanted to play with water. So, against my much better judgement I filled a smaller tub with water and put it in the conservatory on a waterproof mat (getting flashbacks to apple bobbing in November!).

They were very excited and put on their plastic aprons. We talked about not getting water everywhere and they both agreed to be careful. I sent Little Z upstairs to get some toys (not squrty ones) from the bathroom. Big J in the meantime got his hands in the water and started enjoying the bubbles. He then came into the kitchen with the apron asking me to help him put it on and do the back up. I was pleased he was taking care not to get too wet.A few moments later, PP said, "Oh no. Look. He's standing in it. The bottoms of his trousers are all wet." As I looked into the conservatory, he had just sat down in the tub. Okay. This was not one of my best ideas, but then, no harm has been done. Big J will dry, as will his clothes and parts of the conservatory carpet (I hope!). The funniest thing is that he sat in the tub fully clothed (including apron!) and playing with his bath toys as if it was quite normal.



Maybe we'll have a longer chat before we play with water again!

The Most Annoying "Most Annoying" TV Programme

Last night PP and I had put the children to bed and, after putting away the last of the toys and doing a few chores, sat down to watch some TV. There was nothing on which really caught our attention so we ended up watching "The Top 100 Most Annoying Popsongs" on BBC 3. According to the dregs (except a few) of the entertainment business, the majority of whom I have never heard of (nor wish to), I have a CD collection and a taste in music to be embarrassed of. Among the songs on their list were:

- "Yellow" by Coldplay
- "What's Going On?" by Four Non-Blondes
- "Total Eclipse of the Heart" by Bonnie Tyler
- "Orinoco Flow" by Enya
- "That Don't Impress Me Much" by Shania Twain
- "Cornflake Girl" - by Tori Amos
- "I Don't Like Mondays" - by the Boomtown Rats

I actually like all of the above songs and am sure I am not on my own when I say I don't think they deserve to be on a list of most annoying pop songs. But, to top it off, they had the cheek to include "Every Breath You Take" by the Police (as if I needed to say).

How dare they? What gives these people the right to criticise the work of others when they themselves are not famous for much more than attempting fame at some time or for going on Big Brother (probably their last ditch attempt at fame!)

I turned off when they got to number 79 as I could not bare it any longer. The one consolation was that after pulling to pieces each of the songs, the narrator went on to say that despite this record, the artist actually went on to make millions. Funny that! Maybe that's because they knew what they were doing!

Doing it for themselves...

So far this week (and I don't think tomorrow will be any different) I have had a lazy yet unusual week.

After a lovely Mothering Sunday, I spent the whole of Monday night and half of Tuesday in agony having apparently been poisoned by a mushroom. I didn't realise that you could get food poisoning from eating normal button mushrooms bought from the supermarket, but that is what seems to have happened and now everyone is telling me their own stories of being poisoned by mushrooms. Well, thanks, but it's a bit late!

Luckily it had not come on until Monday evening, so Little Z (who had an INSET day)and I were able to spend a lovely (but very cold) morning together on Southampton common. Little Z took her bike that she is learning to ride. She has previously lacked confidence on her bike, being afraid to let it go very fast at all, but she really got on with it this time. It was nice to see her bike getting some proper use rather than the constant 'start-stopping' we usually have to stand and watch.



Since mother's day, I have been giving a lot of thought to parenting in general and how a parent's actions can have a long lasting effect on a child. With this in mind, I decided to refresh my memory on some of the aspects of a book I have mentioned before (and will again): "How to Talk so Kids Will Listen and Listen so Kids Will Talk". I first read this book a couple of years ago when it was recommended to me. I got through the first 3 chapters and found so much in it to be getting on with that I never got any further. So with nothing better to do on Tuesday (apart from what food poisoning gives you no choice but do) I re-read the first 3 chapters. There were definitely things there which I was still doing well, which was encouraging and there were a few things which I thought I could improve on with a little effort.

Big J is not too happy about having to do as he is told. I think it is fair to say that although generally well behaved, he does not like being told what to do and if he doesn't want to do something he just won't. Over the past 2 days, he has looked at me with a puzzled expression upon his face, wondering what I think I am doing telling him what to do. Today, we made a breakthrough. After much "discussion" (stropping, spitting, kicking, biting etc. etc. - yes, I know this isn't setting a good example to my children! :D), he saw the consequence of his behaviour. (He was made to wipe the snot off my back door, which he had smeared there on purpose after being asked twice to stop. Lovely boy!)

I decided to read the next chapter, "Encouraging Autonomy". Oh Dear! I have pondered for a few years over the question of why Little Z has little confidence and why at 7 years old she is still so dependent and doesn't seem to want to think for herself. It is actually a great relief to know that I can make a few changes (albeit quite difficult for me) to give her more independence. It may sound as if I am one of those mums who spits on the hanky and wipes her face (Is that a northern thing?)or won't let her out of my sight afraid she might hurt herself. In fact, it is a lot less obvious than that. I apparently have to take a big step back and let her make mistakes, let her experience failure without always giving her the "benefit of my wisdom". In short, I have to shut up more. I think we have a long journey ahead of us.

Speaking of long journeys (possibly a lot longer than necessary!) I had a letter yesterday from Bishops Waltham Infant School. After all the time, effort and petrol money spent on applying for the teaching post, the have written to inform me that my application has been unsuccessfull. Oh well, I'm sure there is a lesson there somewhere (one would hope so, considering it is an infant school!)

Enjoy your Friday. The weekend is almost here and the Easter holidays are now in sight (Sorry non-teachers. Teachers need to hear that!).

Mum Knows Best......or does she?

Happy Mothers' Day to all those mothers out there. May your day be stress free.

Lots of women take on the job without realising how difficult it is and, unlike other jobs, you can't just resign when it gets tough (as it invariably does).

I don't mind admitting, I took on the job accidentally and by the time I realised, I had (apparently) already signed the contract! I was not unhappy with the situation (although I cannot say the same for Barclays Mercantile with whom I had just accepted an offer of employment).

Little Z was quite an easy baby. Born weighing 6lb5 in a birthing pool where we both relaxed while everyone else rushed busily around us. Yes, she cried through the night keeping us awake (although PP probably still got more sleep then than he does now!) and always seemed hungry, but once she got through that stage she was a very placid and laid back child. Many of my friends were amazed how I could get on with the house work or work in the garden and she would happily sit in the baby swing or pushchair and watch.

Less happy times followed as we tried for another baby, and another and another.

Little Z was witness to some very sad and stressfull moments I am not proud to have shared with her. I know I cannot turn back time and protect her from seeing me break down. I wish I could. It is easy for me to look back and say that, in that same situation, I would definitely do it differently. At that time I was not emotionally strong enough to do any more than I did. Like I said, being a mother is not easy and you can't phone in sick. You just have to do your best.



Then we had Big J. And "big" he certainly was. Born weighing 9lb3 (almost in the car park) at the Princess Anne Hospital in Southampton after just 2 hours of labour. (Carefull what you wish for!)

Big J has the ability to laugh or smile at almost anything. Never a day goes by when I do not laugh out loud at something he does or says.

I have learnt a lot since having little Z. I used to shout a lot. I know I am not the only one. But I think we have all benefitted since I learnt to shout less and listen more. Big J has certainly benefitted from not being in an environment where people shout (either at him or at each other).

I am writing this here, because I am proud of myself for working hard to become a better mum. I know there were better and worse mums out there than me. I know there are still better mums and worse mums out there than me. I'm sure most mums would agree, we don't always get it right, but what is important is that we do our best.

In my search to become a better mum, I read a book called "How to Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk" in which the Author introduces the first Chapter by saying, "I was a wonderful parent before I had children. I was an expert on why everyone else was having trouble with theirs. Then I had three of my own." While I have opened a door to a, so far, quite private part of my life, I welcome people to leave comments. I only ask that you don't judge me. I know I am not a perfect mum, but I work hard at being the best mum I can be.

Battle Against the Bishop

I have never been the most confident person and because of this I have never had the courage to drive very far on my own. PP has always been there to drive me to most places I needed to go and I was happy to let him drive, particularly to somewhere I didn't know.

In the past couple of years I have tried to make myself drive to places I didn't know and to have confidence in my own driving and map reading ability, although I have still not ventured too far out of my comfort zone.

However, when I started Supply teaching in October, I found that I had to get a grip. No one was there to take me where I needed to go. I soon got used to driving all over the place (not as in "you should have seen her - she was all over the place!), and now find that I can hop in the car with a map and having checked the directions on Google Maps and go.

Last week I went to visit a school called "Bishops Waltham Infants" in Bishops Waltham. The directions looked straight forward and despite PP suggesting I go down the M3 and come off at Winchester as that is the simplest route, I was determined that I did not need to be patronised and go 25 miles out of my way to take a simple route. I was now an experienced & confident driver used to driving to unknown places and would go the quickest(!)way.

It took me almost 1½ hours to reach the school and I had eventually, after getting lost so many times, stopped and asked for directions.

The crazy thing is, that it only took the headteacher 10 minutes to show me around the school! However, the school was lovely. The headteacher was very friendly and welcoming and I decided that although it is a bit further away than I had hoped to work, I would apply for the job as it is only for the summer term initially although there is a possibility of an extension for 1 more year.

After getting so lost on my first trip to the school, I thought it would be a good idea to deliver the application myself on Thursday this week, so that I could give myself the opportunity to find the school first time and to find out how long a normal journey to the school from home would take. I looked at Google for a bit longer this time, wrote out the instructions, ignored PPs advice of going the simple route and set off on Thursday afternoon. I had 2 hours before I had to collect Little Z from school, which meant I had plenty of time, even if I took a wrong turning.

I got back to Little Z's school with 5 mins to spare after collecting Big J on the way. Unfortunately, as well as having Big J in the car, I also still had my application. I had not found the school. In fact, I had not even found Bishops Waltham! Eventually I'd had to abort the trip and come back as I was running out of time.

Okay. I decided to use the simple route (stupid bloody simple route!). So, Friday I set off after again looking at Google and keeping in mind what PP had said: "Just follow the brown signs for 'Marwell Zoo' all the way and then you are there." Actually that seems like it can't fail, doesn't it? Why then, did I end up outside the gates of Marwell Zoo? (Stupid bloody Zoo!)

I did actually find the school this time. It just turned out that I had turned off the road sooner than I should have done and was, at least, heading in the right direction this time.

As the weather was so nice, I had decided to take Big J with me for a drive in the countryside and we took his new Scooby Doo bike along so we could stop on the way back for him to have a ride about before I dropped him off for lunch at nursery. Unfortunately, as it had taken longer than intended to get to Bishops Waltham, there was not a lot of time to get him back to nursery for lunch, so I thought I might actually risk looking after my own son for the day. (what a thought!). We stopped at a shop and bought some food, plastic cutlery and plastic cups for a picnic and looked for a place where we could stop to eat and where Big J could ride his bike. I was surprised to find that there was nowhere obvious between Bishops Waltham and Southampton to stop for a picnic and so we ended up on Southampton Common.

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post about Southampton Sports Centre and how lucky we were to have it on our doorstep. Less than half a mile from the Sports Centre we have Southampton Common.





We had a lovely afternoon next to the lake. We ate our picnic lunch, Big J rode his bike, ran around and fed the ducks. If I don't get the job or even an interview at Bishops Waltham Infants, it will still have been worth it, as we had a lovely afternoon.

Taking Bookings Now

Last year I wrote a post about how much I love books and how many I have cluttering up the house. This situation hasn't really changed, although I do seem to have been able to organise them better, having given it more thought.

Today, I have spent some time making adjustments to my blog, adding a few bits to make it more interesting and updating the information. Under the section "Favourite Books" I noticed that all the books I had mentioned were either self-help type books (of which I seem to have collected so many that my friends now come to me rather than go to the library to borrow them!) and children's books (understandable as a mother of 2 and a primary teacher). I decided that I really ought to include a few adult books.......

After thinking hard for a while and then getting up from the PC to peruse the bookshelves for adult (not as in 'adult only' - we definitely don't have any of those!) books, I realised that I do not have very many adult books at all. In fact, I cannot recall the last time I read a book which was not either a children's book or a non-fiction book about teaching or to support a lesson I was going to teach.

HELP!

I am now appealing to anyone reading this to recommend an author to me. I don't really like horror or anything which will stop me from sleeping and am not into heavy sci-fi or Mills and Boon type predictable love stories, but am willing to consider any sensible suggestion before taking a trip (no, of course I am not going to get out of my chair!) to Amazon to purchase a book for psychologically sound grown-ups (of which I am not one, but would like to pretend!)

That's rich...

Having just about recovered from the shock of having to do some planning this week, I arrived home fairly early on Friday after collecting Big J from nursery. What a relief to be able to relax and unwind after a working week.

"Before you start to enjoy your weekend, we've had a letter" Said PP pointing to the table.

NOTICE OF INTENDED PROSECUTION
In accordance with Section 1 of the Road Traffic Offenders Act, 1988, I give you notice that it is intended to take proceedings against the driver of motor vehicle MG01 AHL (the completely made-up private number plate I will never afford but would happily accept as a generous birthday gift, should any rich members of my family be reading!)

Anyway, the long and the short of it is that, as they say in Southampton "they done me for speedin' ". I was caught by a camera last Saturday on the way to swimming, apparently doing 37 on a dual carriageway through town, which is actually a 30 limit.

I was surprised at my own reaction, as was PP. I could rant and rave and get myself all stressed out, achieving nothing but upsetting the whole family and making myself feel bitter. Yes, I like my new (to me) car and I like the sound it makes when I put my foot down and no, I do not consider myself irresposible doing 37MpH on a dual carriageway with my kids in the car. Yes I wish I had seen the camera, and more to the point, I wish the camera was not there or at least not working, but I didn't and it was. So, it seems I have worked part of this week for nothing (nothing new there, I already pay council tax and income tax) and will have a few points on my licence.

Thank you, Mr J R Baldwin of the Hampshire Constabulary, for making me see the error of my ways.

"We scare because we care" (Monsters Inc.)

I have had a lovely, but strange week at a little village school, which has to remain nameless for what I am about to say in case I ever wish to do supply there again! I was covering a class teacher in a mixed Reception / year 1 class for 3.5 days (their usual PPA cover teacher had done the first 1.5 days) and as soon as I got there, I almost choked on the atmosphere.

The staff were all lovely to me on arrival. Having spoken to a few members of staff, including the Deputy Head, I came to the conclusion that there was no point in continuing to look for planning as there simply wasn't any! (my worst nightmare as a supply teacher!) As an NQT I am not particularly good at ad-libbing, but the deputy said, "do whatever it takes to get through the afternoon," so, assuming she did not mean 'leave the class on their own and head off down the pub' I let them do choosing activities, which, in English, means they played all afternoon.

That was not the last surprise of the week. It became clear during Tuesday afternoon, that most of the existing staff were looking for jobs as they did not get along with the headteacher. The teacher I was covering had handed in her resignation and was 'working' (with the help of a long term sicknote) her notice. It also became evident that no one had told the children their teacher was unlikely to come back and that most parents did not know either, although most sensed that all was not well and decided I might be the one to answer their barrage of questions. I had to stick to the "I know nothing. I am just the supply teacher" approach.

I have not been told they want me next week, and the agency have not arranged to send anyone else, so I am assuming they have made the decision to unsettle those poor children even further and that they will have yet another teacher next week.

Are they really living up to their "Aim to meet the individual needs of the children, in a caring environment"? (Quoted from their own website!)

A Dinner Guest

As I have occasionally been asked what Seany (my big brother) looks like, I thought I would post this picture on my blog. Both Little Z and Big J are very fond of their uncle Seany with his goatée and so we decided he might be just who we needed to invite for dinner to encourage the kids to eat their meals. Unfortunately as he lives 260 miles away and is quite busy with work at the moment we had to improvise:

Incy Wincy Spider

So that I don't have to spend ten minutes every morning trying to wake Little Z up to get ready for school, she has her own alarm clock in her room, which goes off at the same time as mine, so while I am taking a few minutes to convince myself that the alarm clock is not faulty and it is in fact 6.10 (yes, I know, I can't believe it either!) and time to get up, so is Little Z. Quite often she is out of bed before I am and running into the bathroom to "powder her nose!"

This morning was no exception. I heard footsteps on the landing (not uncommon in our house, even when it is empty - that's another story!) and shortly afterwards Little Z appeared at my door:

"Mum, I've found something in the bathroom. I've wrapped it in this tissue so it can't run away!"

'Oh dear', I think, as Little Z has already come into my room and started to climb into my bed clutching her tissue.

"What is it?" I ask hastily.

"It's a lovely spider and..." She starts to unfold the tissue to show me.

"Get out of my bed! I don't want it in my bed!"

I don't dislike spiders, but, just as I don't dislike my neighbours, I don't want them in my bed!

Little Z got out of my bed and hovered just inside the doorway.
"It's really lovely..." unfolding the tissue further.

"Stop! Don't unfold it. It will fall out and I don't want it in my room, thank you!"
Little Z looks down and then looks back at me with a "oops" look on her face.
"Where is it?" I ask.

"On the carpet somewhere." she replies.

Great

"How big is it?"

"It's only small. But don't worry, it doesn't like carpet."

Oh, well that's okay then!!!??

Sure enough, it evidently did not like my carpet as she caught it on the floor in the hallway, where we do not have carpet yet. She went off into the bathroom and I didn't think any more of it.

A few minutes later I went into the bathroom.
"Look, I've put him (was it a boy? How can you tell?) on the toilet roll."

Why would she do that?

Finally, I put him out of the bathroom window, which then provoked a long conversation about how spiders are happier outdoors and will not die from being dropped out of a window. Maybe I should have continued to explain how little children who bring spiders into bedrooms would not be so lucky should they use the same exit method!