Keris Stainton's Blog, page 43

My dad’s business card

Have I written about my mum’s suitcase on here? I can’t remember if I have or not. Let’s assume not. After Dad died and my sister was clearing out his house, she found a small suitcase in the loft. The case was full of stuff Mum (who died in 1999) had saved, but had never mentioned. Letters, cards, postcards, photos, programmes from shows, even things like dry cleaning receipts from when she lived in America in the early sixties. I’m going through it all and scanning it, but I thought I’d share this…

Harold C James was my dad. I assume it’s from the early 60s. He didn’t need a real business card. He worked in a printers (which, if you’re so inclined, you can read more about over on Girls Heart Books) and obviously made it himself, for a laugh. (And it did make me laugh.)

Emma Hearts LA: Emma’s house

I thought today I’d give you a sneak peek of my inspiration for Emma’s home in Emma Hearts LA.

I first heard about the Venice Canals in, I think, this book. I had no idea until then that Venice, LA had actual canals. I went googling assuming they’d have been filled in or dried up or something, because if there really were proper canals, I’d have heard about it, surely?

This was one of the first photos I found and I had it as my computer wallpaper for a while – isn’t it gorgeous? I started trying to find out more about the canals and found this site about their history. But I think it was only when I watched Valentine’s Day and Because I Said So that I realised I had to have Emma living on a canal.

I spent quite a lot of time “researching” on this site. (Where does research stop and “nosing around people’s fabulous homes” begin? Don’t ask me.) And this was the house I loved and thought was perfect for Emma’s family.

When we were in LA last year, I marched poor Stella around to find it and we eventually did, but I was disappointed that it’s no longer that gorgeous red, which was one of the things I loved the most about it.

See those birds? They’re in the book

Just a couple more canal pics…

Boy Quotes (Part 16)

Harry just spotted an old photo of me and David. He said, “Wow, you look young and Daddy looks like a total goon.” Heh.

Joe: “Joe waked up!” Me: “You haven’t been to sleep yet.” Joe: “Oh. Sorry, Mama.”

Have hurt my knee – can’t put any weight on it. Harry said, “Don’t tell me I’ll have to make you tea and a sandwich and do your To Do list.”

“Mama, come quick! Joe want some raisins, Mama!” Weirdo.

Harry just asked me, again, how babies are made. As I told him, he said “I always thought tiny elves went up you nose and maked the babies.”

Joe just shouted from his bed: “What you doin’ on computer, Mama?” How does he know I’m on the computer? Oh.

Harry freaking out in the other room. Joe ran in and shouted, ”Harry! Pull self ‘gether!” Toddlers are ace.

Told Harry I had a headache. He karate-chopped me on the forehead and said, “A bonk on the head always does the trick!” Ow.

I was looking at Joe earlier and he said “Mama? You eyes gone black.” #love

Chris Evans playing Crazy Horses. Harry and Joe are rocking out and killing themselves laughing.

Asked Joe to tell Harry what we’d got for tea. Joe: “Tiny PEOPLE!” It’s tiny pizzas actually.

Reader Recommends: First Aid Kit

Recommended by Raimy:

First Aid Kit… they are beautiful and I’m VERY obsessed with them at the minute.

Raimy’s favourite song is King of the World, but I think I prefer Emmylou (plus I can’t find a proper video for King of the World).

If you have anything you’d like to recommend – and it can be ANYTHING: a foodstuff, TV show, brand of corn plasters, whatever – leave a comment or email me.

Where are all the snails?

I kind of love snails. I don’t know why since they’re really just slugs with a shell and I do not love slugs (not that I hate them either, I even tried to keep one as a pet when I was a kid), but there’s just something about snails I find endearing.

I’ve liked them even more since that time we saw a snail on the way to school and Harry said it was on its way to “Las Snailgas”. Now I imagine them gambling and perhaps with light shows on their shells. Just me?

Anyway, when I asked if I could join in the Cupcakes for Clara Snail Trail*, I planned to find a couple of snails and have a snail race with the boys. But we couldn’t find any snails. Not live ones anyway (I know snail races are slow anyway, but they’re really slow if the snails are ex-snails). We’ve got slugs. We’re lousy with slugs. But not a snail to be seen.

So I made one from Playdoh. And Joe was delighted with it. No, really, he was. (Ever heard that expression “He should tell his face?” Yes.)

* If you look really carefully on my blog, you might find a secret snail. And if you click it, you might get a surprise.

52 Books: How to Keep a Boy as a Pet by Diane Messidoro

I was desperate to read this book from the first time I heard about it. Diane is a fellow Girls Heart Books blogger and I absolutely love her funny and feminist posts, so I knew the book would be a treat and so it proved to be!

Because I’m lazy, here’s the description:

This is the Official Truth about dating the Male Human Species! I am Circe Shaw…And I refuse to spend my entire life swooning pointlessly. I must become a fabulously sophisticated journalist and reveal the actual scientific truth about dating boys…

Circe Shaw is on a mission! She needs to discover the secrets of male human pet control. Urgently. But life is beyond complicated. Circe has to deal with a poisonous rival, her mum’s annoying ‘just friends’ men and her own Dark Past. Can dressing like a horse or acting like a disco really help? Will Circe finally catch a boyfriend? Or will she break her heart…

I ignored the kids and stayed in bed on two successive mornings reading this book (see? Lazy). That’s practically unheard of. But it’s so sweet and funny and a little bit sad and I didn’t want it to end. I just loved Circe. It reminded me of the early Georgia Nicholson books (not least because I started thinking in Circe’s voice when I was reading it) and also of Susie Day’s Big Woo! (which is one of my fave YA books of all time).

In other words, it’s a fab debut and I can’t wait to read Diane’s next book.

Homeschooling Harry: Week Three (part 2)

First thing Friday morning, before David and Joe were up, Harry said he didn’t want to do homeschool on Fridays anymore – could we do Mondays instead? I chose Fridays because it’s the day they seem to do the least work at school. They have a long assembly, they have Golden Time and they also frequently watch a film. I suspected this was the problem and I was right. “I miss all the fun!” Harry said.

I know I’ve been struggling to make homeschooling as fun as I want it to be. As I said in yesterday’s post, I’ve found myself wanting to do a “good job”, impress Harry’s teacher and the Head, show them that I can teach him as well as they can. But that’s made me lose sight of why I wanted to do these Flexi Fridays in the first place.

So this week, I told Harry he could do whatever he wanted. If he didn’t want to work at all, that was fine with me. We’d still go to Starbucks, but we could just sit and chat. I got his Friday bag and took all the stuff out and spread it out on the floor. There was quite a lot. A Carol Vorderman times tables book, a couple of French books and a Learn French CD I’d just bought, a couple of books about plants, the Read Me Out Loud! poetry book, Wreck This Journal, Pick Up Your Pen, The Usborne Write Your Own Story Book and the curriculum stuff that school had given me.

I told Harry he could take anything he wanted or leave it all at home. His eyes lit up. He picked up Read Me Out Loud! Then Wreck This Journal. Then the maths book (I really wasn’t expecting that). The French CD. And then he added his school spellings book. I took the rest away. I think it may have been the moment I really knew that, despite Harry’s reservations, I’m doing the right thing with these Fridays. He’s so keen to learn. Of course, when I told David he said, “Brainwashed already…” but I really don’t think it’s that. And I honestly don’t think it was to please me either. He just can’t resist books – I don’t know where he gets it from…

We listened to the French CD in the car on the way to Starbucks. When we got there, we read a poem (he liked it better than last week’s). He did his spellings using a writing app on the iPod (can’t believe I didn’t think of that sooner!). He loved Wreck This Journal – I think it’s great for his motor skills and it gets him writing without realising he’s writing. We did some French words and he asked me how you say “Olympics” in French (I googled – “Jeux Olympiques”). We read the first two pages of the maths book, which were the one times table and the zero times table. I thought I may as well go back to the beginning and it’s a good job I did. Currently his homework says he has to learn the three times table and “division facts”, but I realised on Friday that he’s still not entirely comfortable with zero and one – probably best to learn them first before moving on, eh?

In the afternoon we went to see Beauty & the Beast at the cinema. Harry has been learning about stories at school, particularly about “warnings and promises” and so we’d been talking about fairy tales. We also have a theme each month and this month’s is films – it’s Movie May! After seeing the film (new 3D version is barely any different – I really wouldn’t bother shelling out to see it at the cinema), Harry asked if we could learn more about the Beauty & the Beast story and about Walt Disney. And I made a note to have a chat with him about how if we want someone to love us, tricking or imprisoning them is not the way to go about it!

This post is longer than I intended, so I’ll round it up! We also went to B&Q and bought a Suttons Fun to Grow Vegetables pack and, when we got home, sowed the seeds. And one of the teachers at Joe’s preschool gave Harry a bug-catcher and challenged him to bring a bug when we collected Joe. We only managed to catch an ant, but even so…

So this week’s been challenging, but I think it’s been important. I now know I need to speak to Harry’s teacher and tell her we won’t be doing the work she’s given me (no idea how she’s going to take that…) and I also know I don’t need to push Harry – he wants to learn, I just need to relax and let him follow his interests. LOA.

Homeschooling Harry: Week Three (part 1 – it’s been that kind of a week)

I haven’t really talked about what I’m supposed to be doing with Harry on Fridays, but, um, I’m going to now. Probably at tedious length. Sorry.

My original plan was to be free and easy on Fridays. To do whatever Harry wanted to do. I knew that we’d do some work on writing and letter formation, since he’s a bit rubbish at that and it’s holding him back in other areas, but apart from that, I was happy to do whatever he wanted to do. I’ve read a bit about homeschooling plus Steiner and Montessori education to know that free and easy works fine. Actually, better than fine.

But then the Head said to speak to Harry’s teacher and see what she wanted us to do. The Head said maybe his teacher could even give us the work he would have missed. I didn’t see the point of this – in that case, he might as well be at school – but I went along with it, since I was trying to get them on side.

Before the first week, I had a meeting with Harry’s teacher and she gave me a bunch of stuff Harry will be missing, including printed sheets for Science and Maths. One of the science units is called ‘Helping Plants Grow Well’. The front page says: “What is this unit about? Plant growth depends on light, air, water and temperature. Roots act as anchors to keep a plant in the soil. The roots ‘suck’ up food from the soil into the stem and leaves. The leaves use this food, along with light, to make energy that makes the plant grow.” [I've put it in bold cos I'll be coming back to it later]

There’s a page called ‘Assessing Knowledge and Understanding Using KS2 QCA Units’ which has three levels and two column. The first column is ‘Level descriptors’:

Level 1: The children can identify, locate and name the external parts of a plant.

Level 2: The children will describe the basic conditions that plants need in order to survive, e.g. food, water, air and light. They will recognise that living things grow.

Level 3: They will use their knowledge and understanding of basic life processes when they describe the differences between living and non living things.

They’re just the first examples of each. The next column is headed ‘How do the level descriptors relate to QCA Scheme of Work and Classroom practice’. I won’t bother typing them out because they make me feel like this*.

Now that page is aimed at teachers, which is fine. If I was a teacher it would make me lose the will to live – much like the Personal Development Reports I had to do at work, on which you had to list ‘strengths’ and ‘less strong strengths’ – but the next six pages have Harry’s name at top left and ‘My target is…’ top right, so I think it’s safe to assume these are for the children and they’re only marginally less life-sapping than the teachers’ page. You can see one of them above (click to embiggen). Now, I’m 40. I like to think I’m fairly intelligent, but I swear I can’t read more than three lines on each page before my brain goes into screensaver mode.

Now I know I’m going to sound like I’ve already drunk** the hippy homeschool Kool-Aid, but I can’t think of anything more likely to squeeze the joy out of learning than ‘I can use a datalogger to measure my results’ ‘I can plot points to make a graph and say what the pattern tells me’ ‘I can describe how I have changed one factor and kept others the same.’ There are 68 tick boxes over all the pages. Sixty-eight. See that bold bit above? 68 tick boxes to prove a 7-year-old understands it.

So that made my heart sink. But at school (and work) I was always conscientious. I like to do a good job. I like praise. (I always think of my friend Amanda who once told me that when she got a letter saying her smear test was “satisfactory”, immediately wondered how she could do better next time.) So I’ve been thinking that I’ll get around to these work sheets (Harry’s teacher didn’t give me the sheets for actually doing the work, just the targets, but the Head said I could get anything I needed from school) once we’re really into the swing of Flexi Fridays. Or once I can actually read and retain a whole page.

But then yesterday, Harry was drawing on the wall in my office (it’s okay, he’s allowed) and, because he loves to learn, he decided to test me on “frashcksns” – spelling’s not his strong point. Once we’d done a few, he wrote this and asked me which I thought I’d done:

I  had no idea what he was on about. Turns out LOA = Learning Objective Achieved, LOPA = Learning Objective Partly Achieved, LONA = Learning Objective Not Achieved. I swear, when he told me my first thought was that I’ll have to homeschool him full time. I actually said, “Harry, that’s so awful, it makes me want to take you out of school completely.” He laughed his head of (LHHO) and said, “Have you lost your marbles?!” But the management speak bullshit of it makes me so miserable. Fine if that’s how the teachers keep up with the children’s understanding, but to make it something the children use to define the level of their own learning does actually make me feel like I’ve lost my marbles. (I’m so addled, I’m not even sure that sentence makes sense, but hopefully you get the gist.)

Gawd, I said it’d be long and tedious, didn’t I? Sorry. And I haven’t even started on what we did this week. I’ll post again tomorrow. And I’ll try to keep it brief…

* found via this amazing post by @Digressica

** I feel I must question my assertion of intelligence above since I originally typed “drinken” rather than “drunk”.

Read about what we’re doing and why here.

Week Two here.

Read Harry’s blog about it here.

One of each

The jackpot

Earlier this week, after dropping Harry off at school, I stopped to talk to a woman I vaguely know. She’s the grandmother of a child who was at preschool with Harry. I now see her a couple of times a year and we have a little chat. This time, we ended up talking about whether I was going to have more kids and she said, “You might hit the jackpot next time.”

At first, I wasn’t sure what she meant, but once I realised and did a bit of gasping like a stunned haddock, I blethered something about how I’d be perfectly happy with another boy, thanks very much. She said, “Oh, of course, boys are great” or something. We chatted a bit more and went our separate ways, but I kept thinking about it.

Now she wasn’t being nasty – not like the woman who, when I’d been for the scan where I found out Joe’s sex, asked me what I was having and, when I said boy, looked at Harry and pulled a face – she was just saying the same kind of thing I’ve heard from lots of people over the years, before and after I had children. Things like “Are you trying for a girl?” or “If it’s another boy, will you keep going?” or “You could try for a girl, but you wouldn’t want another boy, would you?”

Even if it’s a boy…

The thing is, before having Harry and Joe, I may well have said that kind of thing myself. When I was pregnant with Joe, I really wanted a girl. I blogged about it at the time:

I do find myself wondering what would be the point of having another boy since we’ve got the perfect boy, but I don’t want to be disappointed if this hypothetical baby did turn out to be a boy.

But I just can’t seem to get past it, so I spend a lot of time thinking about families I know with same sex children (like, er, my own), thinking “If so-and-so had thought like me whatshis/hername would never have been born” (of course the fact that me and D are both first borns tempers this slightly!).

I need to keep in mind that every child is a blessing and no matter what happens, I will love the next baby (even if it’s a boy!) just as much as I love Harry. I just can’t quite imagine such a thing.

The “even if it’s a boy” was a joke, I promise you, but oh my god it actually causes me physical pain to read that now. It makes my stomach hollow out. Even if it’s a boy! Our beautiful Joe.

Joe

After I had the scan and found out it was another boy. I wrote:

Earlier in this pregnancy – or perhaps even before this pregnancy – I wrote about how I didn’t want another boy, didn’t see the point, etc. I’ve been changing my mind about that gradually anyway, but the weird thing this morning was that, when the sonographer said it was a boy, I cried, but not because I was disappointed, but because suddenly my baby became real.

He’s no longer an “it”. He’s no longer some amorphous mass of baby. He’s a boy. He’s another son. And, the more I think about it, the more I feel like I know him. And the more I think his name is Joe. 

He stopped being ‘a boy’ and became ‘Joe’. A person. And he just becomes more and more ‘Joe’ every day.

As my amazing friend Stella commented on the above post: “Even though we know Harry is the perfect boy, another baby boy of yours will be perfect too but in a completely different way. People assume that I MUST have a favourite out of my boys but honestly, I can’t say that I do. What I can say is that I love them all equally as much but for different reasons because all three are completely different people.”

I had no idea at the time, but I completely agree now. Or, um, do I? (Yes, I do. But hang on.) Last year I went to LA with Stella and, on the way home, we saw a family with, I think, a boy and a girl and then baby twins. They looked like they were really struggling and so we were watching them and thinking “Poor bastards.” I probably said that the idea of having twins is one of the things that puts me off trying for a third baby. And then I said I couldn’t understand why they’d gone for a third anyway, since they already had one of each.

Stella in LA

And Stella said, no, that’s the same as you thought when you were pregnant with Harry and worried about having a boy. No, I said, probably looking at her like she was an idiot, that was two boys. This is one of each. Two boys are the same. A girl and a boy are different. Duh. She said something like, “No. You were thinking there was no point having another boy when you already had Harry and now you love Joe just as much. It’s the same for them, just with a boy and a girl.” And I probably said, “Er. No. It’s not the same.”

Even at the time, I knew there was something I wasn’t quite grasping, I could feel it just out of reach of my tiny brain. Quite some time later – like weeks – I was in the shower and suddenly went, “Oh! I get it now! The gender’s not important. They’re people. I now have two boys and they’re both amazing and I’d be happy to have another one. Or more. (I’m not going to, mind, but I’d be totally cool with that.) So why shouldn’t that family want more amazing children?

The thing that freaks me out about this is that I am quite obsessive about this kind of thing. I read books about gender equality. I complain about gender imbalance in the media. I send angry tweets about inappropriate comments from acquaintances. And yet I had this big blind spot about how ‘one of each’ was the ideal. It made me think of a line I loved in Simon Amstell’s stand-up “Why can’t you be less judgemental? And be more like me. Which is judgemental.”

Postscript

Probably for a couple of years after having Joe, I still wanted a girl (as well as, not instead of!). I’d look at friends’ daughters and think “It would be lovely…” I don’t even do that anymore. In fact, earlier this year when I was idly pondering a third child (trying to trick my brain into letting me know whether or not I wanted one), it just didn’t come up. I kept imagining another gorgeous, amazing, joyful little boy. You know – the jackpot.

Remember Flamingo Road?

I was just chatting on Twitter with my friend Jenni. She’s watching The West Wing for the first time and has reached the Agent Sunshine episodes with Mark Harmon. Mark Harmon was one of my first ever crushes, thanks to Flamingo Road.

Remember it? I bloody loved it. I hardly remember anything about it, apart from there was a woman who was a singer and she sang Blue Kentucky Girl, which I LOVED and was delighted to find my dad had in his country music collection. It’s by Emmylou Harris, who was one of his faves. I just found it on YouTube and it made me cry. Cos it reminds me of my childhood/dad, I mean. Not cos of Flamingo Road!

Country music always reminds me of my parents getting ready for friends to come round to play cards. Low lights in the front room, my mum in the kitchen emptying salted peanuts into the Lazy Susan (it was the 70s), my dad in the front room, strumming along with Emmylou Harris or Dolly or George Jones on his guitar, me and my sister nicking peanuts in the kitchen or sitting at the top of the stairs, waiting for the doorbell…