Knickers. Or not.
There was I, standing in the playground before school, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face. There was Pink, ringleader of a gaggle of girls, all chattering happily, moving together through the crowd of Mums. My half-asleep attention wandered to Boy, off on his residential activity week today. I smiled as I watched him manfully stride up the playground wheeling his suitcase behind him – and was surprised when a Mum I don’t know rapidly approached me. Clutching my arm, she grinned “Um… did you know that your daughter has no knickers on?” I turned my head in slow motion, just in time to see my girl flipping proud handstands. In her summer dress. Baring her all to the world. *sigh* Tweet
The Homework Saga pt III – What Mr M did say…
I got a phone call on Friday during the day, asking us to stop by after school – it would only be me, as C was working, but that was fine. I entered the classroom, Mr M fluttered about clearing children and his TA etc before finally sitting and meeting my eye. He was… apologetic. Humble. Embarrassed. Angry with himself. Full of promises to do better. Apparently, the head who had been so politic with us had gone straight to Mr M and spent nearly 2 hours going through every homework folder, examining homework policy, quizzing and taking it all very seriously. ‘Oddly’ Boy’s was the only folder to have ‘somehow fallen through the cracks’, and that had no work unmarked. He freely admitted he does not mark every piece of...
The Homework Saga ptII.
School Update for you all – I know you’re agog! We heard nothing from the school re. our letter about Boy’s homeowrk. Upon questioning Boy to make sure he handed it in he replied “Oh, yes, I put it in my homework folder – he never ever looks in there so he’ll probably never see it” “What do you mean, he never looks in your homework folder?” we cried. “Oh, he never marks our homework.” was the cheery, resigned response. Cue gobsmacked parents. So the next day we sent him back into school to retrieve said folder, so we could see for ourselves. One folder, with every single piece of homework since September. number of piece marked? None. Not one. Hence not one response to the “Boy worked really...
Feelin’ Stabby…
SATs week. Bloody stupid, hateful, waste-of-time nonsense. In the last few weeks Boy has done nothing but practice papers. Homework? Oh, practice papers please – but make sure your parents go through them with you and correct them, and teach you the bits you don’t know. PE? Well, how about we get those young legs out and stretch them with a nice game of… golf. Yes. Golf. Last week, the week before the SATS? Let’s keep them nice and fresh by doing nothing but Maths & English test papers. Morning and afternoon.For PE? Oh, lets do Cup Stacking (concentration practice, see?). SATS week? Well, how about you lovely 10 and 11 yr olds have two days of English papers, and then we’ll give you some homework. Homework. Bloody...
Feeling wrung out…
We’re missing on No.1′s parents evening tomorrow – C is taking boy to Old Trafford, and now No.1 has an ear infection, so I can’t possibly take three children, one ill, to sit in the school half an hour while I trot round the teachers. But following the snitty message from the school yesterday (“just to inform you that No.1 had a maths test today that his earache has happily stopped him from having to take – I wanted to reassure him that it WILL be waiting for him upon his return” – i.e. “your son is skiving AGAIN with fake illness, and we wanted to be sure you know that we know...”), we called the school today, explained the situation, and asked that teachers call us if they wanted to chat. I’ve...
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