Well, this is it. Just a week to go until the end of the summer term, aka term 6, aka ... the whole of the Reception year. Wow. It's gone extremely quickly. We seem to be breaking up relatively early - I know this because I've been looking up lots of other local authorities' term times to see if we could sneak in a theme park trip while it might not be too busy. We're risking it, and going to Legoland on the 20th - only one of the relatively local LAs is breaking up on the 17th like us. One of the others is continuing until the 31st! I didn't realise there would be so much difference.
We've had quite a few things going on in the last couple of weeks. Summer fayre, for one. I did volunteer to man a stand, but no one ever got back to me, so instead I got to wander around unencumbered. Well, apart from by the Husband and Daughter, obviously. It was a nice event, and no doubt very profitable. Daughter had to have the speed turned down on her go-kart as she was threatening to run someone over, and a very small child named Percy had a rather interesting crash.
Then there was the informal open evening, which consisted entirely of wandering around the school in a fairly aimless manner. We had a chat to Daughter's current teacher, and to her new one for September. After that, I had twenty minutes at home before heading back to school for the staff and governors' social. This entailed me being determined not to talk exclusively to the other governors, but to mingle with the staff, which I did under the influence of increasing amounts of white wine, and not nearly enough food. I left my jacket behind and didn't notice for 36 hours, and did feel a little fragile the following day, but I don't think I otherwise disgraced myself. Probably.
Before that though, we'd had a bit of a milestone. Daughter's first school report. The covering letter included an explanation of the EYFS (Early Years Foundation Stage) achievement letters, so I turned to the next page to see what Daughter had 'scored', and promptly lost the covering letter, missing that it announced who Daughter's new teacher would be. And the time of the open evening. Oops. As well as the numbers, it included some good comments. A friend who's a Reception teacher was surprised that we got the numbers, but the ubiquitous Mumsnet tells me it's not quite as uncommon as she thinks. It does mean, as a parent, you get a bit obsessed with the numbers, and what they mean, and whether your child is average, above or below ... but I'm pretty glad to have them. I was impressed by the comments - a friend's daughter, at a different school, had a report which didn't include the numbers, but you could work them out as the text was copied and pasted straight from the EYFS handbook.
What have I learned about EYFS from this? What is official (ish) is that levels 1-3 are 'working towards early learning goals', 4-8 'working within early learning goals' and level 9 'working at or beyond early learning goals'. Children achieving 4-8 in the 13 areas assessed are doing roughly what that age of child should be doing - although they might be under-achieving compared to what they're actually capable of, of course. Level 9 is supposed to flag up to Year 1 teachers the areas in which a child might be particularly able. Less officially, it seems like an score of 6 to 7 averaged across the categories is about average. I did find one comment where someone claimed that Autumn-born children were expected to score 105, but seeing as that adds up to 12 level 8s and a 9, that seems unlikely.
Anyway, Daughter did pretty well, although not as well as a friend (at another school) who did so well it's frightened the life out of her mother! Her targets for improvement are:
- To continue to use simple punctuation with some consistency.
- To confidently put forward her ideas when working as part of a group, without the encouragement of an adult.
She'll be doing better than me if she can achieve the second one any time before she turns 35.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Blog fatigue evidently well set in
Two months, near enough, since my last entry. I actually came here today with the intention of deleting it all, but - to hell with it, I'll carry one for now. It's good practice.
So, in the intervening two months, Daughter has turned five. It's possible that education (NOT school!) is now compulsory, or it may be that it's compulsory from next term; I'm not entirely sure. It's academic anyway. It does mean that having her exclusively in age 5-6 clothes (or, ahem, bigger) no longer means I feel that we are raising a giant. Also that lots of things which are aged 5+ come within scope (although 5+ often means Yr 1 and up, which is often beyond her) ... and then I have to pay for her to go swimming, or on the bus. Boo.
Ongoing Free Milk Saga
This is also supposed to mean that she no longer gets free milk at school. She's indicated that she only drinks the milk because she is made to, and I asked her teacher whether some of the children over five don't have the milk (I was worried she may feel left out) and indeed some don't, so I didn't sign up to pay for the milk. However she says she still gets milk - perhaps they're making up for all the milk she didn't get at the beginning of the year?! I'm not sure if this is a bad thing, as it stops her drinking water, or a good thing, because she wouldn't drink the water anyway.
School Dinners
The new school dinners start next term. Various people (me included) have put some money in the online system already, which has distressed the catering company (or is it the payment company?) who are convinced that we don't understand, and have made the school secretary phone everyone and tell them it doesn't start till next term. I might have to go in one day and have a school dinner. They had better be bloody good, considering they cost more - oh yes, they cost 10p more to parents, but cost only 5p more to make! They also put more responsibility onto the school for processing payments than previously, so the school is looking at actually employing someone to do the administration. Time for my 'local authority is mad' tag, I think. Really, it's such a rubbish situation, you're supposed to be responsible for the finances of your school (head teacher and governing body being 'you') but the local authority gets to make decisions that reverberate through the money. Weird.
SATS
Okay, that's milk and dinners covered. What else? SATS. Still a couple of years off for us, and that's just SATS-lite, the Key Stage 1 ones that are based on teacher assessment. IF they exist by then. The school, meanwhile, has it's Key Stage 2 results. Aggregate percentage of 298 at Level 4 (the expected level) - that's 100% English, 100% maths, 98% science. In a school of 60 per year group, that means every single child achieved what they should have done (or more) in English and maths, and ONE child underachieved in science. This puts the school tenth in the county (which is good, btw, I had to explain this to Husband, there are a LOT of primary schools in the county). TENTH, with ONE child having failed to make the grade in ONE subject. It doesn't quite add up, does it? Meanwhile the top two schools in the country have aggregate scores of 293 at Level 5. Which, depending on the size of the school, could potentially mean one child failing to OVERACHIEVE in one subject. Okay, 'overachieve' is a bad term - failing to excel. Nearly all the children in a school excelling in the basics of education.
Is that realistic?
Does it demonstrate that the school is excellent?
Does it demonstrate that the school's catchment is extraordinarily privileged? That it is selective, either openly or subvertly? Does it actually demonstrate that SATS are complete bollocks?
I incine towards all three. All four in fact (over my two paragraphs). Perhaps not #3, but definitely the others. #1 and #2 so often go together, after all. And are SATS bollocks? Daughter's school believes that two children should NOT have achieved Level 4 in English and maths. They don't even believe their own good press.
Chances of SATS in this form surviving until Daughter is of the relevant age? Negligible.
Secondary Admissions
Onto more horrors of early 21st century education. Secondary school admissions. A little over half of Year 6 (34 children) got into the two nearest state comprehensives. A further eight got into the next three nearest state comps - that's a good result for the two who got into the good one, but a disaster for the remaining six, who got into two schools which have been under special measures in the past, and, well, they're out now, but not exactly in a phoenix-from-the-ashes fashion. Two are going to a co-ed comprehensive faith school (Catholic/CofE, how weird is that?) leaveing sixteen going to grammar schools (one co-ed, two girls' and one boys' school), and just one going independent.
It's a worry. We have yet to get any idea whether Daughter might be grammar school material. The nearest grammar school has a very good reputation and results (not always the case, I believe one grammar school has been put in special measure recently, and elements of Husband's grammar school education left a lot to be desired*) but I don't always hear good things about it. I'm also ideologically opposed to selective education, but hey, I'm ideologically opposed to faith schools as well, so am clearly a big fat hypocrit. So what do we do in a few years? Sit tight, hope for the best, either that the demographics work in our favour (because if Daughter was in Year 6 this year, it'd be the grammar if she qualified, or one of the ex-special measures schools, I know this for a fact)? Move house? Actually we plan to move, but we really didn't want to go far. Cheat?
Most of all though, it makes me sad to think of all the tiny boys and girls in Daughter's year, how in just 6.5 years they'll be off in separate directions, the lucky ones will go with fewer than twenty of their peers to good state comprehensives, or with a handful of peers (not necessarily friends, or children they can even stand, of course) to a grammar school, or on their own to a private school. The unlucky ones will be off, perhaps even on their own, to failing schools. It's very different to when I was a child, when/where pretty much two primary schools fed into one secondary.
And Daughter, how is she?
Oh yes, besides the Big Picture, the little picture, the small blonde picture of contrariness. She is fine. She is sight reading more and more, which is a relief (there is a limit to the number of times a person can hear the word 'and' being sounded out without wanting to scream), and getting a grip on some more rules of the mad English language. Her spelling is somewhat less bonkers, but still rather endearing. Hence 'hape bersday' on a card to her friend (phonetic spelling probably works a lot better when you actually pronounce things correctly, but where's the fun in that?) Socially she seems alright - her teacher is pleased to see her making friends with one little girl, as they are 'a good match'. Not sure what this means. Little girl's mother not sure what it means either. Also not too sure about the flirtatious way in which she addresses the boys. I think we're in for trouble later. Major amounts of psychological energy taken up with wondering when her wobbly teeth will come out - she has two new teeth visible behind them, one VERY visible, and is beginning to look a little like a shark.
* the drunk chemistry teacher for one, and the failure to teach the correct texts for English lit for another
So, in the intervening two months, Daughter has turned five. It's possible that education (NOT school!) is now compulsory, or it may be that it's compulsory from next term; I'm not entirely sure. It's academic anyway. It does mean that having her exclusively in age 5-6 clothes (or, ahem, bigger) no longer means I feel that we are raising a giant. Also that lots of things which are aged 5+ come within scope (although 5+ often means Yr 1 and up, which is often beyond her) ... and then I have to pay for her to go swimming, or on the bus. Boo.
Ongoing Free Milk Saga
This is also supposed to mean that she no longer gets free milk at school. She's indicated that she only drinks the milk because she is made to, and I asked her teacher whether some of the children over five don't have the milk (I was worried she may feel left out) and indeed some don't, so I didn't sign up to pay for the milk. However she says she still gets milk - perhaps they're making up for all the milk she didn't get at the beginning of the year?! I'm not sure if this is a bad thing, as it stops her drinking water, or a good thing, because she wouldn't drink the water anyway.
School Dinners
The new school dinners start next term. Various people (me included) have put some money in the online system already, which has distressed the catering company (or is it the payment company?) who are convinced that we don't understand, and have made the school secretary phone everyone and tell them it doesn't start till next term. I might have to go in one day and have a school dinner. They had better be bloody good, considering they cost more - oh yes, they cost 10p more to parents, but cost only 5p more to make! They also put more responsibility onto the school for processing payments than previously, so the school is looking at actually employing someone to do the administration. Time for my 'local authority is mad' tag, I think. Really, it's such a rubbish situation, you're supposed to be responsible for the finances of your school (head teacher and governing body being 'you') but the local authority gets to make decisions that reverberate through the money. Weird.
SATS
Okay, that's milk and dinners covered. What else? SATS. Still a couple of years off for us, and that's just SATS-lite, the Key Stage 1 ones that are based on teacher assessment. IF they exist by then. The school, meanwhile, has it's Key Stage 2 results. Aggregate percentage of 298 at Level 4 (the expected level) - that's 100% English, 100% maths, 98% science. In a school of 60 per year group, that means every single child achieved what they should have done (or more) in English and maths, and ONE child underachieved in science. This puts the school tenth in the county (which is good, btw, I had to explain this to Husband, there are a LOT of primary schools in the county). TENTH, with ONE child having failed to make the grade in ONE subject. It doesn't quite add up, does it? Meanwhile the top two schools in the country have aggregate scores of 293 at Level 5. Which, depending on the size of the school, could potentially mean one child failing to OVERACHIEVE in one subject. Okay, 'overachieve' is a bad term - failing to excel. Nearly all the children in a school excelling in the basics of education.
Is that realistic?
Does it demonstrate that the school is excellent?
Does it demonstrate that the school's catchment is extraordinarily privileged? That it is selective, either openly or subvertly? Does it actually demonstrate that SATS are complete bollocks?
I incine towards all three. All four in fact (over my two paragraphs). Perhaps not #3, but definitely the others. #1 and #2 so often go together, after all. And are SATS bollocks? Daughter's school believes that two children should NOT have achieved Level 4 in English and maths. They don't even believe their own good press.
Chances of SATS in this form surviving until Daughter is of the relevant age? Negligible.
Secondary Admissions
Onto more horrors of early 21st century education. Secondary school admissions. A little over half of Year 6 (34 children) got into the two nearest state comprehensives. A further eight got into the next three nearest state comps - that's a good result for the two who got into the good one, but a disaster for the remaining six, who got into two schools which have been under special measures in the past, and, well, they're out now, but not exactly in a phoenix-from-the-ashes fashion. Two are going to a co-ed comprehensive faith school (Catholic/CofE, how weird is that?) leaveing sixteen going to grammar schools (one co-ed, two girls' and one boys' school), and just one going independent.
It's a worry. We have yet to get any idea whether Daughter might be grammar school material. The nearest grammar school has a very good reputation and results (not always the case, I believe one grammar school has been put in special measure recently, and elements of Husband's grammar school education left a lot to be desired*) but I don't always hear good things about it. I'm also ideologically opposed to selective education, but hey, I'm ideologically opposed to faith schools as well, so am clearly a big fat hypocrit. So what do we do in a few years? Sit tight, hope for the best, either that the demographics work in our favour (because if Daughter was in Year 6 this year, it'd be the grammar if she qualified, or one of the ex-special measures schools, I know this for a fact)? Move house? Actually we plan to move, but we really didn't want to go far. Cheat?
Most of all though, it makes me sad to think of all the tiny boys and girls in Daughter's year, how in just 6.5 years they'll be off in separate directions, the lucky ones will go with fewer than twenty of their peers to good state comprehensives, or with a handful of peers (not necessarily friends, or children they can even stand, of course) to a grammar school, or on their own to a private school. The unlucky ones will be off, perhaps even on their own, to failing schools. It's very different to when I was a child, when/where pretty much two primary schools fed into one secondary.
And Daughter, how is she?
Oh yes, besides the Big Picture, the little picture, the small blonde picture of contrariness. She is fine. She is sight reading more and more, which is a relief (there is a limit to the number of times a person can hear the word 'and' being sounded out without wanting to scream), and getting a grip on some more rules of the mad English language. Her spelling is somewhat less bonkers, but still rather endearing. Hence 'hape bersday' on a card to her friend (phonetic spelling probably works a lot better when you actually pronounce things correctly, but where's the fun in that?) Socially she seems alright - her teacher is pleased to see her making friends with one little girl, as they are 'a good match'. Not sure what this means. Little girl's mother not sure what it means either. Also not too sure about the flirtatious way in which she addresses the boys. I think we're in for trouble later. Major amounts of psychological energy taken up with wondering when her wobbly teeth will come out - she has two new teeth visible behind them, one VERY visible, and is beginning to look a little like a shark.
* the drunk chemistry teacher for one, and the failure to teach the correct texts for English lit for another
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Winter-not-so-wonderland
I've had enough snow now. Can we return to bog-standard February sleet and cold please? The roads haven't yet been as bad as the previous snowy episode, by which I mean my car has not yet attempted to drift sideways into the door of another vehicle. Earlier in the week it was only the schools in the sticks which were closed, but at some point this morning Daughter's school appeared on the county list. It would probably now be easier to list the schools that are open - in fact I have a suspicion that the situation could be described as: state schools and pre-schools - closed; private schools and paid childcare - open. Cynical? Moi?
I went to work while Husband stayed at home, and tomorrow, assuming the school is closed again we'll reverse the roles. He'll take the car if so, having walked his bike most of the way yesterday. I can live with a day off work, especially if we work out early enough that the school is closed, and if Daughter is good enough to have a lie-in again. I longed to go back to bed this morning ...
I was a bit disappointed that Daughter's playdate for after school disappeared into thin air - I texted the mum to say we'd still have her at any point, and she was welcome to come round for a coffee, but they never materialised. I do wonder if it was because I made it clear (as I thought I should) that it would be Husband at home today. Well, I guess tomorrow if there is no school again I should try to come up with some educational things for Daughter to do. Today has featured Club Penguin (as does every day), some sledging, a walk to the shop and Cranium Hullaballoo, as far as I can tell. Another walk to the shop for rocky road ingredients sounds good, more Hullaballoo, some reading, and as little Club Penguin as I can get away with will do for tomorrow.
I went to work while Husband stayed at home, and tomorrow, assuming the school is closed again we'll reverse the roles. He'll take the car if so, having walked his bike most of the way yesterday. I can live with a day off work, especially if we work out early enough that the school is closed, and if Daughter is good enough to have a lie-in again. I longed to go back to bed this morning ...
I was a bit disappointed that Daughter's playdate for after school disappeared into thin air - I texted the mum to say we'd still have her at any point, and she was welcome to come round for a coffee, but they never materialised. I do wonder if it was because I made it clear (as I thought I should) that it would be Husband at home today. Well, I guess tomorrow if there is no school again I should try to come up with some educational things for Daughter to do. Today has featured Club Penguin (as does every day), some sledging, a walk to the shop and Cranium Hullaballoo, as far as I can tell. Another walk to the shop for rocky road ingredients sounds good, more Hullaballoo, some reading, and as little Club Penguin as I can get away with will do for tomorrow.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Homework
Yesterday's letter in the bookbag - please help your child find out the meaning of their name. Okay, done. Daughter isn't put out by the fact that her name is actually demonstrably inaccurate, but wasn't amused by my take on her middle name.
Today's - we had a preview of this cos they sent it home, incomplete, by accident last week. Each child has discussed something they'd like to learn to do, something relatively easy to perfect in a short time, it says, like doing up all the buttons on a coat. Daughter has managed to come up with 'learning to ride her bike without stabilisers'.
Oh dear.
I'm not sure this is going to happen. Will report back.
Today's - we had a preview of this cos they sent it home, incomplete, by accident last week. Each child has discussed something they'd like to learn to do, something relatively easy to perfect in a short time, it says, like doing up all the buttons on a coat. Daughter has managed to come up with 'learning to ride her bike without stabilisers'.
Oh dear.
I'm not sure this is going to happen. Will report back.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Stirring it up
Just back from the finance and premises committee, where I have sneezed and sniffled all over everyone. Oops. Highlights included a thrilling and blow-by-blow account of a sewage leak (featuring the title statement above), and an equally thrilling burst pipe (with actual burst pipe, in fact FOUR burst pipes). The caretaker has done his back in, so the head (approaching retirement) has been doing heroic things with manhole covers.
Also discovered that the school dinner provider is changing at the beginning of April, a fact I see is on the council's website and various other places, but hadn't been flagged up to parents.
The (potentially) Good: online payment system planned; much blether about quality local ingredients; doesn't appear to be a monster catering firm like the previous one (I hold this against monster firms, our work catering is done by a GIGANTIC corporation who defend every price raise by whinging that they don't have the purchasing power of Tesco); actual staff remain the same, and apparently the cook is very good.
The (again potentially) Bad: will the online payment system work (it was compared to the one for the milk, which worries me, as they cocked up Daughter's free milk for weeks); they don't have menus online, which is a shame as I always lose the hard copy; the specific menus I've seen for schools in other areas aren't great (one choice every day is salad, which Daughter will not eat).
The (definitely) Bad: price goes up 10p (defended in press release by someone who you'd think was working for the company, rather than being an elected councillor).
We will see. I'm not heartened by them being chosen by the county council, who do not impress in other ways. Things like paying over the odds for utilities, not being able to run their own financial systems, making schools pay for consultants to run tendering processes for them, but accepting no liability if the process fails to deliver what the school needs, or indeed what the council stipulates ...
Also discovered that the school dinner provider is changing at the beginning of April, a fact I see is on the council's website and various other places, but hadn't been flagged up to parents.
The (potentially) Good: online payment system planned; much blether about quality local ingredients; doesn't appear to be a monster catering firm like the previous one (I hold this against monster firms, our work catering is done by a GIGANTIC corporation who defend every price raise by whinging that they don't have the purchasing power of Tesco); actual staff remain the same, and apparently the cook is very good.
The (again potentially) Bad: will the online payment system work (it was compared to the one for the milk, which worries me, as they cocked up Daughter's free milk for weeks); they don't have menus online, which is a shame as I always lose the hard copy; the specific menus I've seen for schools in other areas aren't great (one choice every day is salad, which Daughter will not eat).
The (definitely) Bad: price goes up 10p (defended in press release by someone who you'd think was working for the company, rather than being an elected councillor).
We will see. I'm not heartened by them being chosen by the county council, who do not impress in other ways. Things like paying over the odds for utilities, not being able to run their own financial systems, making schools pay for consultants to run tendering processes for them, but accepting no liability if the process fails to deliver what the school needs, or indeed what the council stipulates ...
Monday, January 12, 2009
A new year stumbles into being
Obviously, Daughter is back at school now. Less obviously - not actually today. She was sick in the middle of the night, probably due to scarfing a huge bag of Tesco rip-off Skips while we weren't really paying attention. Oops. Husband took the day off work; I got to work longer than usual to make up for last week's flexitime disaster. The disaster being:
Monday - Get up at 6.30. Roads are so icy anything above 8mph is lethal. Get into work at 8.45.
Tuesday - Get up at 6.30. Faff about. Car needs de-icing. Get into work at 8.45.
Wednesday - Day off to wait for new PC.
Thursday - Get up at 6.45 due to motivational failure. Get into work at 8.45.
Friday - Get up at 7.15 because Daughter has come into bed with me after bad dream, and doesn't need to be woken at 6.30. Get into work at ... 8.45.
What do I DO in the mornings?
I also forgot to make Daughter her packed lunch on Wednesday, I remembered just as Husband was taking her to school, so I'm doing REALLY well so far.
I finally have an idea of the timetable at school - PE Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday; literacy Monday and Tuesday, numeracy Wednesday and Thursday, creative stuff and finishing things off on Friday. Oh, and show-and-tell that's now called something else on a Thursday. And library on a Thursday. Despite this when Husband asked Daughter last Thursday if she'd done any numbers, she said 'no' (definitely no, not the usual 'don't know' or 'can't remember'). Mind you a lot of the numeracy stuff they seem to do at this age is about shapes, patterns, sizes etc - not explicitly numbers, so that may explain it.
I will learn more shortly, as I have an appointment with numeracy governor hat on to see the teacher responsible for numeracy ('maths with Miss S', the post-it says) so will find out about new-fangled maths teaching.
Monday - Get up at 6.30. Roads are so icy anything above 8mph is lethal. Get into work at 8.45.
Tuesday - Get up at 6.30. Faff about. Car needs de-icing. Get into work at 8.45.
Wednesday - Day off to wait for new PC.
Thursday - Get up at 6.45 due to motivational failure. Get into work at 8.45.
Friday - Get up at 7.15 because Daughter has come into bed with me after bad dream, and doesn't need to be woken at 6.30. Get into work at ... 8.45.
What do I DO in the mornings?
I also forgot to make Daughter her packed lunch on Wednesday, I remembered just as Husband was taking her to school, so I'm doing REALLY well so far.
I finally have an idea of the timetable at school - PE Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday; literacy Monday and Tuesday, numeracy Wednesday and Thursday, creative stuff and finishing things off on Friday. Oh, and show-and-tell that's now called something else on a Thursday. And library on a Thursday. Despite this when Husband asked Daughter last Thursday if she'd done any numbers, she said 'no' (definitely no, not the usual 'don't know' or 'can't remember'). Mind you a lot of the numeracy stuff they seem to do at this age is about shapes, patterns, sizes etc - not explicitly numbers, so that may explain it.
I will learn more shortly, as I have an appointment with numeracy governor hat on to see the teacher responsible for numeracy ('maths with Miss S', the post-it says) so will find out about new-fangled maths teaching.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
On the downward slope towards term 2
I've been neglecting this, with good reason, there having been no school for over a week now (that doesn't excuse me from having written nothing since two weeks before the end of term, but whatever).
The last week of term didn't contain much of any great excitement, as Reception don't do a nativity or Christmas concert or suchlike. Apparently this is because of how tired Reception children get in their first term, and nothing to do with the propensity of over-stretched Reception mothers to sob pathetically at the spectacle of small children singing 'Away in a Manger' (or is that just me?) There was a Christmas party, which required a small plate of sausages and some money. Daughter used her money to buy a bright pink bauble (which doesn't go at all with my silver and red tree) and something else, which escapes me now. Husband had to lend another mum a pound for her child, which said mum paid me back the following day, only for me to have to borrow an extra pound from her to pay for a quiz sheet. Which we have now lost.
There was also Christmas dinner in the canteen on the Friday, about which I heard nothing, par for the course for school dinners.
Reception and Key Stage 1 finished at their normal time on the Friday, and Key Stage 2 15 minutes early - ie the same time. Okay, NOW I see why they're normally separate. The doors opened at 3pm on the dot and the bigger kids came out like a tidal wave just as the parents of the smaller ones were trying to get round the corner to where they're let out. It was madness. Daughter came out in tears, and when I finally calmed her down enough to speak I found out she was upset because she had too much to carry. I'd taken everything off her by this point! She had her book bag and water bottle as usual, and a large paper folder of festive bits of art, which was all a bit too much. Later that day (while Husband and I were out drinking on respective work dos, having delivered Daughter to her grandparents for the night) a small bag of Daughter-made festive sweeties arrived in the porch, having obviously been forgotten and subsequently hand-delivered.
Christmas has been very nice, now getting a touch of cabin fever so got a couple of play-date-ish things planned. Daughter is getting ready to celebrate a new year by having her tooth fall out. I can't believe she has a wobbly tooth - it seems like five minutes ago I was going around saying I couldn't believe she had a tooth (at four months).
The last week of term didn't contain much of any great excitement, as Reception don't do a nativity or Christmas concert or suchlike. Apparently this is because of how tired Reception children get in their first term, and nothing to do with the propensity of over-stretched Reception mothers to sob pathetically at the spectacle of small children singing 'Away in a Manger' (or is that just me?) There was a Christmas party, which required a small plate of sausages and some money. Daughter used her money to buy a bright pink bauble (which doesn't go at all with my silver and red tree) and something else, which escapes me now. Husband had to lend another mum a pound for her child, which said mum paid me back the following day, only for me to have to borrow an extra pound from her to pay for a quiz sheet. Which we have now lost.
There was also Christmas dinner in the canteen on the Friday, about which I heard nothing, par for the course for school dinners.
Reception and Key Stage 1 finished at their normal time on the Friday, and Key Stage 2 15 minutes early - ie the same time. Okay, NOW I see why they're normally separate. The doors opened at 3pm on the dot and the bigger kids came out like a tidal wave just as the parents of the smaller ones were trying to get round the corner to where they're let out. It was madness. Daughter came out in tears, and when I finally calmed her down enough to speak I found out she was upset because she had too much to carry. I'd taken everything off her by this point! She had her book bag and water bottle as usual, and a large paper folder of festive bits of art, which was all a bit too much. Later that day (while Husband and I were out drinking on respective work dos, having delivered Daughter to her grandparents for the night) a small bag of Daughter-made festive sweeties arrived in the porch, having obviously been forgotten and subsequently hand-delivered.
Christmas has been very nice, now getting a touch of cabin fever so got a couple of play-date-ish things planned. Daughter is getting ready to celebrate a new year by having her tooth fall out. I can't believe she has a wobbly tooth - it seems like five minutes ago I was going around saying I couldn't believe she had a tooth (at four months).
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