We're alive. :-)
...and kicking! It has been an extremely hectic term, so I just didn't get to blogging. We're all fine though. Work is still awesome!! I'm loving every second. So much so, that when they asked me to help stand in for one teacher next term, I immediately agreed. It's just 2 extra subjects, and just for 3 months. I'm sure I'll cope. I'm actually looking forward to the challenge! And to get to know the kids in the other grades as well as I've gotten to know the grade 7's and 8's.
I'm sure you're not here to read anything about me though, so here's the updates on the kids.
Mr N
He's happy. So happy, that he voiced it to me! And if you know him, you'd know how RARE that is. He must've been feeling really happy to tell me that. :-) He loves the school. He loves the teachers. The subjects. The kids. The work even! He enjoys it. He told me he can't wait to go to school every day. And that he doesn't understand why the kids stress so much about the exams, because honestly, there's nothing to stress about, since there's so little pressure compared to what he had to deal with last year!! It makes me so happy, so grateful, but also so sad for him about last year. Grade 7 is the last year in primary school before moving over to highschool. It's suppose to be one of your best years in school. Where you're the eldest. The "main men". For Mr N, it was just stressful, sad and awful. So I'm so glad he get to be one of the "main men" in his new school. Anyway, I'm not going to go on too much about Mr N. I'll write a whole separate post about his school one day. Suffice to say, my eldest is in one of the happiest phases of his life so far. And that, of course, makes us as parents so happy.
Boeboe
Well, she's the one doing both well and badly. The friends. I knew it was a question of "how long" before the kids realised she's not on their level. And they start to push her to the side. It started early this term and lasted weeks and weeks. I spoke to the kids. The teacher spoke to the girls. They asked, begged, pleaded, scolded. It made no difference. Boeboe was in tears every day. Then, somehow, things got better and they were all friends again for about a month. Out of the blue, it happened again. This time, I went straight to the principle. She was really shocked about how the other girls were treating Boeboe (things like running away from her during breaktime or calling her names). She had an extremely harsh, but honest talk with the girls. They were in tears, and felt so bad. Since then, Boeboe was included and accepted again. Then our winter holidays started. So we'll see how it goes next term. I'm sure though, with the principle on our side, Boeboe will be ok. I'm so grateful. Because my heart was in pieces every day.
You know what she asked me one day? Mom, why are you helping me with this now, but didn't in my previous school?
That hurt. Oh Gosh, that hurt.
Of course I helped her, she's just a child, I don't expect her to know of all the times I went to teachers, handed her the tools and knowledge to deal with it at school as much as she can herself. How many research I did. How many times I asked other moms for help. Physically, or just for advice. How many times I organised play dates. How much money I spent on the psychologist to help pick up the pieces. Etc.
Still, she believes I didn't help much. And perception is everything. It hurts to think that's what she believes. And it makes me feel like I did NOT do enough. :-(
I do believe that there was a number of things at play last year, not just friends. She started the new bladder medicine, and I immediately noticed it having a depressing effect on her (we only realised how much earlier this year, once she was taken off from it). She was also struggling academically, and under huge pressure to pass all the exams. So all in all, it was a very horrible, difficult year for her. And our focus slipped a bit, due to her brothers needing our support so much.
It's going so much better now. She's maturing, she's calm, much less tantrums, she laughs more, she plays more with all her siblings. Everything is going so well. She's participated at the school in sports, where she never really got a chance at the previous big school. Here, she's part of the team!! And a valued part! She plays netball, and surprised us with how much her ball skills and footwork has improved. She absolutely loves her school. She loves her teachers, everything. Academically, she still have to work hard. This school isn't remedial. It's private, but with a very high standard of work. The reason why we moved her, was because of the more individual attention, due to much smaller classes. She was never in very big classes, which is one of the reasons why she could (barely) cope in the mainstream stateschool until grade 5. They tried to keep classes around 25. It rose to 33-34 in grade 7, and we knew that would be a major drawback for her. Now, she's in a class with 10 pupils. 5 Boys, and 5 girls. And that's the WHOLE grade 6! That's the difference for me. Not just the small class, but the fact that the teacher does not have 300 kids' books to mark, 10 classes te prepare and present every day, etc. There's just 10 of them, and you can give your everything to that 10 kids. Boeboe has done SO well with this. She can now concentrate on understanding what's said in class. While in the class of 24 kids, she missed so much because of more noise and chaos around her. Anyway, so she still works really hard, academically. But it pays off, and we're not worried about her report card (which we'll get in 2 or 3 weeks).
Monkeyman
At long last, he has really found his place at school. He is SO happy there. He loves loves loves it. He loves the work and learning, he even loves writing weekly tests (and still only get full marks). He loves his teacher. He's made something like 11 friends (hahaha, who's counting?). He loves the afterschool activities there. Even tried his hand at needlework! ;-)
So what's the problem? Well, the usual. The tiredness. It's really not going well in that department. The vitathion helps. It helps loads. But it doesn't take it away. A week ago, we visited friends and he played outside with the other kids for a while. Not all the time, but a good while. We got home, and he lied on the couch playing games for 4 hours before bedtime. I put him in bed and wanted to read to him, but he first had to fetch the books from his desk. He climbed down the 5 steps, chose a book and started to climb back up passed me, where I stood at the bottom step. He was breathless. Totally. He had to take deep gulps of air, and rested halfway up the steps. I was surprised and asked him why he was so breathless? He replied that he is really tired "because he played a lot outside today". And that his legs were (like always) tired and aching (while he stroke over his shins, like always).
That worried me. Alot. Really worried me. What child cannot climb 5 stairs down, and up again? After lying down for 4 hours on a couch?? Even if he played outside earlier the day. He rested for FOUR hours, and then got breathless climbing down 5 stairs?? What??? How's that even possible for a 7-year old?
If this was a single incident, I would've ignored it. But there's too many such incidents. It's also not just me, or his dad. Earlier this year, they had athletics. One day, I was a bit early fetching him from athletics practice, so I sat watching. And my heart broke. He was.so.slow. Not slow like an unfit child. Not slow like a bigger boned, or bigger child. Not slow like a non-athletic akward child. No. He was just slow. Like he was running through deep water. Like he was pushing his hardest, but couldn't make headway. Like he was running fast, but in slow motion. Does this make sense? There was something so sad, so wrong, about his running. There were the fast group that was miles ahead. Then there were the bundle in the middle. Then there were the slow kids (mostly those that's really overweight and unfit). And then there was Monkeyman, miles behind even the last kids before him. He was a group all onto himself. Tiny, frail and so pale and tired.
I watched this a couple of times after that first time, and it happened in every practice. So I one day broached the subject, asking him if he's enjoying the athletics practice? Because in this school, I said, it's not compulsory. They want and prefer all kids to participate, but you can choose. He immediately said he loved it and wants to continue! Well, that was settled then. I thought.
Until the teacher approached me about a week later. Telling me quietly, that if I want to take Monkeyman out of athletics, I'm more than welcome. She'll understand, and think it's for the best!
Wow. That placed me in a very akward position. So I decided to be candid, and told her I realise he's not making it, but I asked him and he's really enjoying it and wants to participate. So she agreed that he should then continue. Thank goodness. I was already anticipating having to tell him he's been asked to leave. :-(
In any case, this just underlined it for me. There really is something wrong. He can't keep up with even the slowest of the slow kids. He's not just bad in athletics. He's unable to do it. They helped him by letting him stay with the teachers after the first round, not expecting him to do all the excersizes needed, etc.
Second term, he declined to play cricket with his class, nor rugby or any other sports at the school. :-( I'm hoping to get him into the 3rd term's sport, but we'll have to see. The one thing he has participated in, and will continue, is the professional tennis lesson we're letting him do for 1 hour a week. He loves that, and seems to keep up well. They're a big group, and usually have to take turns, so he gets to stand around enough, waiting for the other kids' turns, to be able to cope well.
Peanut
Ag man, she's sooooooo adorable at the moment! The cutest, cutest thing. She's funny! She's sweet. She's a wise-ass!! :-) She's talkative. Loving. And absolutely crazy about school. Her best friend is still her very best friend. She loves her teacher. She loves going to school. She's mostly healthy (just a cold here and there). She's growing up way too fast! Almost turning 3. Still adoring her siblings. And still singing "Let it go" whenever and wherever. Hahahaha. Too cute.
So that's the kids. Still the same, nothing new really. Except that overall, they're really, really happy at the new school. And me too. :-) I had one bad little experience mid-term. I went back to the dr, because the symptoms I've been complaining about for years, and that was most likely due to my arrythmia, was turning worse again. The dr was quite surprised at how fast my heart was beating again, and said he's suspecting iron-deficience. So I went for bloods. Next day, he phones me and told me to get myself to the hospital asap, and that he thinks I'm a bit of a "walking wonder", as I'm supposed to be man down with blood results like that. My iron was non-existing and no stores left. Which caused my body to stop manufacturing red blood cells. My homeoglobin was 6. Usually, a woman my age should have a minimum of 12. By 10 you have loads of symptoms and need treatment immediately. By an 8, they give a blood transfusion. Mine was 6, so no questions asked, no choices given, it's either a blood transfusion he said, or I'm going to go into heart failure within weeks at the most. It was such a schlep, having to quickly pack, organise with work that I'm going to miss a few classes, and make sure Peanut is allright. Shame, she's used to having me with her at night. But it went well, she was absolutely fine with her daddy. Even when he had to drop her off at school next morning. It was such a relief.
The blood transfusion wasn't fun. They have to check up on you every half an hour, to make sure you're not having an allergic reaction. So not much sleeping, LOL. And the stupid needle perforated my vein, and the very last few drops of blood went into the muscle. It's now a month later, and I still have pain in the hand. I can't lift anything heavy, then it aches and pains for hours on end. They also gave me an iron transfusion, a few sachets of saline and the 2 bags of blood. It was a surreal experience, watching someone else's blood flow into my veins. I felt both nuaseated at the thought, as well as grateful. My body hated it though. Absolutely hated it. I felt like I went into hospital healthy, and came out feeling sooooo ill. The dr said my heart struggled to cope with the volume and thickness, it got used to very little and very thin blood over the months. It was already starting to show signs of heart failure, so I was "just in time". Scary, hey? It took me the best of about 2 weeks to feel normal again. Without the awful ache and pressure in my chest, the dizziness and headaches to dissapear.
We're on holiday now. Enjoying wonderfully good weather. It's warmish (for winter!), sunny, no wind, no rain. Such fine weather. I'll post a few photo's of the kids next time.
