Rain is for...

We've just had a little rain shower here, as I was getting us both ready to go and meet Grandma in town.

R said: "Rain stopped now. Sky all CLEAN now!"
Me: (puzzled) "Clean?"
R: "Yes."
Me: "Ah I see, the rain cleaned the sky!"
R: (with a big grin) "YES!"

Nearly Three

You're so confident now. You just go right up to people and speak to them, usually starting with "Me got..." or "Me see..." We walked round to the library, and on the way the Red Arrows flew over, and then they did a loop the loop and drew a heart in the sky, with an arrow through it. I held you up so you could see better, and told you how I grew up where they used to be based, and I was quite used to seeing them practicing when I was a girl. I told you about some of the other stunts they do, and suggested we look for a book about them in the library. When we got to the library you soldiered straight it, leaving me trailing, and knelt up on the shelf so you could look the librarian straight in the eye. "Have you got book 'bout Red Arrows?" They didn't, but we did find some aeroplane books to look at.

And single-minded. Friday was strange. You were looking at the Early Learning Centre catalogue, and became fixated on a set of construction vehicles you had seen many times before and not really been bothered about. You did not want to lose the page so you asked me to tear it out for you. I did. We were due to go and see Jane but you had it in your head that you had to have these construction vehicles. I have no idea why, all of a sudden. Daddy and I were mystified! The conversation became confused, possibly because of my habit of asking too many questions; you wanted to go to Jane's, and then you wanted to go into town to buy the construction set. We couldn't really afford to buy it there and then, and it's your birthday soon. I said Daddy could get it for your birthday. That was fine, and so we got ready to go to Jane's. I left the room you were in for a moment to get something, and came back and you were in floods of tears, utterly beside yourself, with Daddy looking bemused next to you. I picked you up and asked what was wrong. You said you did not know. I asked Daddy what was wrong. He didn't know either! Eventually you managed to say, through the gasps, that you wanted the construction set now, today, it couldn't wait till your birthday. I said I could maybe use some of the Scotland money, but then Daddy gave me the money, saying it would be an early birthday present. You calmed down, and we set off to get the bus into town. I'm so happy you were better on the bus, cheerful and chatty, even more than usual. We went straight to the toy shop, made a beeline for the construction set (I didn't tell you about my secret worry that they might have sold out!), and I gave you the money to give to the sales assistant. Then we went straight back to the bus station and got the bus back home. This was so unusual. Normally we spend anything up to an hour in the toy shop, looking at everything, playing with things, but this day you had only one thing in your mind, and that was the construction set! You opened it up when we got home and that was it for the rest of the day. You played and played with it on the sofa from the time we got in until teatime, and then after tea too. Sometimes you packed it all away and walked around proudly with the case in your hand, not letting go for a second, before unpacking it all again and re-commencing the game. Your auntie rang, and you told her all about it, and when Daddy came home from work, it was the first thing you said to him, too! You even took it to bed with you.

It seemed at first like the sort of thing that toddlers do sometimes, going to great lengths to get what they want, but this was different. You felt destined to play with that construction set and nothing was going to stop you! It's hard to describe. But I'm very glad we were able to get it for you, as you know you can't have everything you ask for (I will have to think of something different to say than, "Well, you'll have to save your pennies!") I have no idea still why it was so important to you, but if it's important to you then that makes it important to us too.

And joyful. Just pure, unadulterated, un-self-conscious joy. Laying down in the paddling pool, soaking your hair. Digging a very deep hole in the garden, and filling it with water, jumping about in it, throwing mud at me and your Dad and the dog, laughing like you'll never stop. The concentration on your suddenly-serious face when someone who isn't me or your Dad speaks to you; the way you think about how to answer, and then your clear, careful reply, usually with a little nod. Your "Hmmm"s when someone is talking to you. That's your listening-and-understanding noise. The way you'll suddenly decide some days you are a builder, or a postman, or Archie off Balamory, and we all have to address you as such, and if we forget you tell us off! Standing at the kitchen sink doing the washing up and shouting at me over your shoulder with a big grin on your face, "Get out of my kitchen!" because you have heard me say it to Daddy so many times. Your current bed-time game with Daddy, where your toy Womble collects lots of rubbish and makes a different thing every night with it. One night it was a motorbike and you got on and shuffled up and down the hall on your bottom riding it. The false "smile" you have developed especially for the camera, all teeth and screwed up eyes. The way you "make dinner", clattering about with the oven or the grill (when it's switch off, of course!), everything will be "ready in 10 minutes!" One day last week I was in the living room, and you said you were going to make dinner. I went through to the kitchen a little while later, after you had gone onto something else, and found that you had got a saucepan out of the cupboard and put it on the hob, opened the packet of spaghetti, put some of it in the saucepan, and then got a wooden spoon out of the drawer and put that in the saucepan too. I was so impressed! I told Daddy about that later on after you were asleep, and he thought it was brilliant. All we needed was some water and we could really have had dinner! The way you always say "Thank you, bye bye!" and wave to the driver when we are getting off the bus. The three freckles on your nose.

Nearly three years old. I can't believe it. My little boy. :)

Saturday Poem - 'Invention' by Lavinia Greenlaw

My six-year-old mechanic, you are up half the night
inventing a pipe made from jars, a ski-ing car
for flat icy roads and a timer-catapult
involving a palm tree, candles and rope.

You could barely stand when I once found you,
having loosened the bars from the cot
and stepped out so simply you shocked yourself.
Today I am tearful, infatuated with bad ideas,

the same song, over and over. You take charge,
up-end chairs, pull cushions under the table,
lay in chewing-gum and juice
rip newspaper into snow on the roof.

Stop Forced Schooling

Thanks to a very clever Facebook friend for creating this excellent poster (click to see larger version), which was inspired by this

From this news story.

ETA Sorry, didn't realise the creator of this awesomeness had a blog I could link to - here it is!

And lo...

...the Lord did ignore everything the home educators said unto him, and did what he wanted anyway. And verily the home educators did employ much sarcasm in saying, "Gosh, what a surprise." And thusly, the home educators did vow not to waste any more time on Lords or other persons with an interest that is vested, and the questions of those persons, no matter how reasonable they did sound.

To Ed Balls, Graham Badman, the DCSF...

...and any other fucker who has "concerns" that because my child is not attending a government run institution that means he is, in some mysterious way, "hidden":

It has been suggested that, as an alternative to your totalitarian idea of having government lackeys forcibly enter our homes and interview our children alone, purely because we exercise our legal right to home educate them, we could instead provide our own evidence that our children are "seen"; not "hidden". You have no right whatsoever to request such information, as the idea that our children are "hidden" is completely unfounded; but seeing as you can't be bothered to educate yourselves, preferring to support proposals that will change the lives of tens of thousands of families for the worse, based on ignorant assumptions, here it is.

1) Once a week, every week, we (my son and I) go to the library. While there we are "seen" by and chat to at least one, usually two or three members of staff, and various other members of the public. There are usually other children there, and my son looks at books with them, plays "trains" and generally natters and has fun. If forced to by you and your over intrusive, parents-can't-be-trusted agenda, I suppose I could ask one or more of those members of staff to write you a little note to say they see R every week and he is happy and healthy. I could tell you that myself, but of course I'm only his mother, so you wouldn't believe me, would you?

2) Once a week, every week during "term time" we attend a local toddler group. While there we are "seen" by around a dozen other parents, and their children. R plays non-stop, running around with the other children, making up games, playing shops etc etc. He has a biscuit and some juice with the other children, while I have a coffee and chat with the other mums. If forced to by you and your over intrusive, parents-can't-be-trusted agenda, I suppose I could ask one or more of those other mums to write you a little note to say they see R every week during "term time" and he is happy and healthy. I could tell you that myself, but of course I'm only his mother, so you wouldn't believe me, would you?

3) Once a week, every week we go to soft play. While there we are "seen" by the lovely woman who runs the sessions, and around a dozen to twenty other parents or childminders, with their children, or the children they look after. R takes part in the art and craft activities, as well as running around on the soft play equipment with the other children, making up games, role-playing etc. He has a biscuit and some juice when the other children do. If forced to by you and your over intrusive, parents-can't-be-trusted agenda, I suppose I could ask one or more of those other mums/childminders, or the woman who runs the sessions, to write you a little note to say they see R every week and he is happy and healthy. I could tell you that myself, but of course I'm only his mother, so you wouldn't believe me, would you?

4) Once a week, every week we go into town on the bus. While there we are "seen" by literally hundreds of people, on both bus journeys (there and back) and in town itself. Many of the people, such as the waitresses in the cafe we frequent, know us and we have a little chat. We are also "seen" by and chat with the sales assistants in R's favourite shops. Hundreds upon hundreds of people "see" us as we wander the High Street, talking about the things we can see and what we might buy, looking in shop windows, and generally having a good time. If you seriously think my child is hidden just because I do not send him to one of your failing institutions every day, you must be mad. Having said this, if forced to by you and your over intrusive, parents-can't-be-trusted agenda, I suppose I could ask one or more of those people we see in town, maybe the bus driver, or the waitress, or the sales assistant, to write you a little note to say they see R every week and he is happy and healthy. I could tell you that myself, but of course I'm only his mother, so you wouldn't believe me, would you?

5) More than once a week, every week, we go to the park. While there we are "seen" by a varying number of other park-goers, dog-walkers, and their children. R runs around, chasing our dog mainly, and plays on the slide, swings, roundabout and climbing frame. We are on nodding terms with most of the other park users, and not really speaking terms, despite which if forced to by you and your over intrusive, parents-can't-be-trusted agenda, I suppose I could ask one or more of those people we see in the park to write you a little note to say they see R every week and he is happy and healthy. I could tell you that myself, but of course I'm only his mother, so you wouldn't believe me, would you?

6) Once a week, every week, we go to the supermarket to get the food shopping. This is in addition to many little trips to the shops during the week for milk, bread etc. While there we are "seen" by dozens of other shoppers, and members of supermarket staff. R sits in the trolley or walks, depending what he wants to do, and helps picking out items, putting them in the trolley, putting them on the conveyer belt at the checkout, putting them in bags, and paying for them. Sometimes he does none of this, sometimes only parts of it. It's entirely up to him. We chat to the sales assistant all the time, as they process our goods. If forced to by you and your over intrusive, parents-can't-be-trusted agenda, I suppose I could ask one or more of the staff in the supermarket to write you a little note to say they see R every week and he is happy and healthy. I could tell you that myself, but of course I'm only his mother, so you wouldn't believe me, would you?

7) Almost every day we walk up and down our street, and play and do things in the garden. While doing this, we are "seen" by a varying number of neighbours and passers by, most of whom we know and chat to. If forced to by you and your over intrusive, parents-can't-be-trusted agenda, I suppose I could ask one or more of our neighbours to write you a little note to say they see R almost every day and he is happy and healthy. I could tell you that myself, but of course I'm only his mother, so you wouldn't believe me, would you?

8) Every other month, we catch the train to visit my sister, R's aunt. While doing this we are "seen" by hundreds of people, on both train journeys (there and back), on all four bus journeys, while walking through the city my sister lives in, and of course by my sister, her children, and sometimes her husband. R thoroughly enjoys all of this, and loves playing with his cousins. While on the trains and buses, people usually speak to us, and we often get chatting. If forced to by you and your over intrusive, parents-can't-be-trusted agenda, I suppose I could ask my sister or her husband, or even some random person from the train or bus, to write you a little note to say they see R every other month and he is happy and healthy. I could tell you that myself, but of course I'm only his mother, so you wouldn't believe me, would you?

NOTE: Sometimes R decides he does not want to do an activity. We recently had several weeks during which he simply did not want to go to toddlers, or soft play, or much else really. Although I found this puzzling at the time, it seems in hindsight that he simply needed a rest, and that was all there was to it. As I do not believe in forcing my child into doing anything he does not want, we simply stayed away from those activities for a while, and now, at his request, we are back happily doing them again. The fact that we did not do some of the activities listed above for a number of weeks DOES NOT mean that he was suddenly "hidden" for that time. In fact we took the opportunity to do other activities we have not done before, such as visiting a local farm, and a local nature reserve. And of course, while at the farm and the nature reserve, and the other places we went to, we were "seen" by dozens of other people too.

So there you have it. My son is not "hidden" just because I choose to raise him myself instead of giving the job to a childminder, or nursery, or "pre-school" or anybody else you would no doubt approve of. The fact that you think he is merely belies your own ignorance, and my mother always taught me that if you have ignorance, you shouldn't let it show, but should educate yourself so that you are no longer ignorant. I think you need to learn some manners.

I find it outrageous that there may come a time when we have to prove that our children are not "hidden", much like having to prove that we are not child abusers. The fact that you assume they are, or that we are, means I can have nothing but contempt for you and this whole rotten, stinking Government. As it is the lesser of two evils, I would do it. I would waste all those people's time asking them to write you letters telling you what you should automatically assume to be the case anyway: that my son is looked after and loved by his parents. You make me fucking sick.

Proportionality and Pledging

It's unlikely, but just in case anyone reads here who doesn't read Children are People, I just wanted to spread the word about this from Emma, who has a friend in politics:

"This friend says that lobbying is definitely the way forward as far as the EHE consultation is concerned. And that we need to focus mostly on PROPORTIONALITY. We need to keep asking: How many EHEers have been shown to be child abusers? Are the government's plans a sledgehammer to crack a nut? (to which the answer is yes...). we have to put the onus on the politicians and DCSF to demonstrate that the intrusion into private family life is proportionate to the problem.

If we focus only on the point of principle - that we shouldn't be interfered with - the friend thinks we will LOSE. The friend thinks that we may have to suggest something to say "yes, school children are seen by lots of people outside their families and that is a place where obvious obvious abuse might be spotted. Despite our children not being at school, we are prepared to demonstrate that they have points of contact outside the family". Don't shoot the messenger, and don't take it as gospel, this was just the advice of one person - that maybe a letter from Akela, or maybe a note saying that we are regulars at church X and child is in the sunday school class, or that we have season tickets at this attraction and go once a month and here are some pictures showing us there with the staff or SOMETHING which shows that we aren't hiding our children in cupboards."

Keep pestering your MPs, people!

Also, the Facebook group Stop the UK Government Stigmatizing Home Educators is collecting pledges to pay for a professional lobbying firm to work on our behalf. The firm have been contacted, and their responses sound promising. Chris Whitehouse says:

“I did in fact urge Education Otherwise some years ago to engage more proactively in this process and the wider public policy debate if the interests of home educators were not be ridden roughshod over in this way. Sadly, our advice was not followed.

We remain happy in principle to work on this issue which, as you rightly say, raises fundamental issues about the balance of rights between parents and the state, but any such input would have to be on a commercial basis, though we would look to discount fees if we could.

Whilst I note you have established a fund for both legal and lobbying work, I would strongly urge that lobbying work is by far the higher priority.

If you are able to raise a fund, then do revert and we would be only too happy to discuss further.”

And also:

“We would be seeking a rolling contract on 3 months notice.

Were you a commercial client we would be seeking a monthly retainer of around £5K pcm.

Given the voluntary and laudable nature of the community we would be prepared to offer a 40% discount to a monthly fee of £3K pcm.

If you are able realistically to raise such a sum we would prepare a detailed proposal setting out the action we intend to take during the first 3 month period.

Perhaps you could let me know how you wish to proceed.”

Please do go along to the Facebook group, join if you haven't already, and if you're able to, pledge a few pounds for this. :)