School, homework, gym/karate, madrassah- is this overscheduling?

I always compare my childhood - during which I remember playing outside with friends, climbing the tree in our backyard, riding bicycles, rollerskating, playing hopscotch, playing in the park etc - with the type of lives children lead today.


Children today seem to be so busy; always involved in some or other structured after-school activity. According to an article I read, some of the negative effects of overscheduling in our kids' lives include kids:
- feeling tired, anxious, or depressed
- complaining of headaches and stomach aches, which may be due to stress, missed meals, or lack of  sleep
- falling behind in their schoolwork, causing their grades to drop


I promised myself that I would never burden my kids that way.


However this week, I feel as if I have been doing just that.


We recently joined the gym (as a family). We did not merely embark upon this (rather expensive) activity for pleasure alone - I believe that Mo and I really need it (with his terrifyingly high blood pressure and my frustratingly out-of-control stress and anxiety levels).


We'd been talking about going running for ages, but this has just never materialised since we did not have anyone to look after the two youngest kids. Gym has provided the perfect solution, since there is a well-supervised play centre for the two youngest, while the two older kids are allowed to use most of the cardio equipment.


However, the kids also have karate on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturday mornings. I'm not too strict about them attending karate in the week, but this week I insisted since they will be grading on Saturday.


In addition to gym and karate, the kids also usually have a mountain of homework. Although, come to think of it, I'm not sure if the volume is really the reason it takes hours to complete, or if they just drag it out since they have nothing else to do in the afternoons.


Another activity still to be added to the list, is madrassah (Islamic school). Now I remember coming home from school every afternoon and skipping off to madrassah every afternoon from Monday to Thursday - yet I recall still having loads of play-time afterward.


So we are looking at sending them to madrassah on a Sunday morning for three hours.


Their free time for the week will therefore include: an hour before bedtime, Fridays after school, Saturday after karate and Sunday after madrassah.


I can't help but worry that we might be depriving them of unstructured time for free play.


So their schedules will be as follows:


Monday - Thursday
7:55 - 14:30    --          School


15:10               --         Arrive home


15:10 - 15:30   --         Break


15:30 - 17:30   --         Homework


17:30 - 18:30 ish--      Gym / Karate


18:45               --          Arrive home


18:45 - 19:20   --         Supper and Bathtime (for all)


19:20 - 20:30   --         Play / Relax until bedtime

I think we can be more flexible with gym on Fridays, so as to give them the entire afternoon after school (and evening) to themselves.

Saturday karate is from 10:30 - 12:30.
Sunday madrassah is also in the morning some time.

I know that the detail provided by this post is incredibly mundane, but I'm really just using this to formulate my thoughts. (In fact seeing their time-table laid out like this is really helpful to me - until now their weekly schedule has just appeared to me as a busy blur).

About the free time I'm so intent on preserving for them - let's face it, with our lifestyle and surroundings, my kids would not be cycling outside (due to lack of safety), climbing trees, playing hopscotch or enjoying the fresh outdoor air. They'd most likely be glued to the TV, or sneakily playing games on my phone (since playing Playstation during the week is prohibited).

But still, isn't the point that they be given enough free time within which to do as they wish (within set limits, of course)?

The question is - is the free time they have available for themselves, sufficient? Are we over-burdening them with activities?

It is very challenging to establish a schedule which meets everyone's varied needs (including Mo's and my health needs). The best I can do for now is to stick to this schedule provisionally and monitor each of the kids carefully.

Perhaps I'm over-thinking (the way I always tend to do). But, like all parents, I really just want the best for my kids.

Bigfoot in a sexy mini skirt

Finally, after weeks of trying to get it right, I think we finally have.

By 18:00 yesterday I was heading for the shower- all homework had been completed, books signed and dinner was on the table, ready to be served.

The answer had lain in the re-shuffling priorities. Immediately upon arriving back home at 15:10 yesterday, we all raced to the television to watch the last few minutes of the repeat of 7de Laan. My excuse (luckily backed up by Shakeel's Afrikaans teacher) is that watching this light-hearted Afrikaans soapie helps with the Afrikaans grammar and vocabulary. No really- watching this programme has done wonders for my Afrikaans vocabulary!

Immediately after this programme ended at 15:30, I sat down with 7 yr old Nuha's Grade 2 homework. This was a strategic move- she has the least homework, so getting her to finish first means that there is someone to play with 2 yr old Aisha, who would otherwise spend the entire afternoon disturbing the older two kids, demanding that they play with her.

Nuha receives a list of 15 words each Monday to be studied for the test on Friday. The maths for the test varies. This week they will be tested on "counting in two's" . Since the teacher was absent Monday and Tuesday, they only received the list yesterday. Despite that, we managed to finish studying the spelling list- and she was able to count in two's effortlessly. Thank goodness, because- as planned, she was able to start drawing with Aisha; enabling Shakeel (12) and Tharaa (10) to continue with their work unhindered.

Every day Tharaa is given a list of 5 English words and 5 Afrikaans words; which have to be used in sentences which show that the child grasps the meaning of each word. The Afrikaans sentences have proven to be a bit tricky, as none of my kids are able to master the word order in Afrikaans sentences and tend to translate directly from English; resulting in clumsy lopsided sentences. The problem is that they don't hear Afrikaans being spoken at home, or even by friends and family. (Illustrating once again, that I'm not being a bad mommy by letting my kids watch 7de Laan when they get home from school).

Shakeel finishes his homework in class, while the other kids are chatting away in their free time. Not because he is a goody two shoes, but because he is hoping against hope that this will prompt me to let him watch an episode or 2 (or 3 or 4) of Naruto, 'the coolest series ever!!'

But instead, I rewarded his dedication by requesting demanding that he brings home all his books- I'm determined to get a jump on preparations for the March/April formal assessments/exams. So yesterday we learned all about earthquakes. Pretty interesting stuff really- for me, at least. I animatedly demonstrated to Shakeel how the tectonic plates, which lie adjacent to each other, move about- by holding my hands palms-facing-downward and moving them about like a DJ scratching his vinyl (Am I cool or what!)

To help him remember the concept of the seismic waves I moved my arms about in undulating motions (I knew my bellydance lessons would come in handy some day). Then illustrating the varying speeds of seismic waves I proceeded to speed up my arm waves (probably looking like a demented breakdancer) - much to the embarrassment and horror of my poor son. But, as mortified as he was, the information had stuck. I tested him on the remainder of 'Earthquakes' and we also touched on 'Volcanoes'. We learned so much yesterday- I am confident that, come March/April, I will be able to tackle any question in the exam with ease.

After spending the afternoon filling my head with knowledge for which I would be unlikely to find absolutely any use in my life, I set the table and phoned Mo to find out when he'd be home for supper. I proudly told him all we had accomplished for the afternoon.

Now because of the scorching hot summer we've been experiencing, I've gotten into the habit of prancing about the house in the shortest skimpiest little dresses- not for the sake of being sexy (obviously), but because having clothes against my body was just unbearable.

Neither the kids, nor Mo had said anything about this all summer, so imagine my surprise when Mo ended the phone conversation with, "Um, er- could you perhaps shave your legs before I get home?",

Imagine that!  I was about to start yelling in protest, telling him that I had enough on my plate and, excuse me if I didn't still have time for vanity, when I happened to look down at my legs. Yikes, how had I missed this? I looked like Bigfoot in a very sexy shift dress.

So there I was at 18:00 yesterday- with homework completed, books signed and dinner on the table, ready to be served. On my way  to the bathroom- not for a relaxing rewarding shower, but to hack away at the jungle that had been flourishing on my limbs. Mildly concerned about depriving any wildlife of their home. Fully expecting angry bats to come flapping at me, furious at being evicted from the habitat in which they had thrived, undisturbed for the past 6 months.

I emerged a new woman, strutting down the passage all smooth and hairless in my sexy little dress- to clean up the puddle of Aisha's pee in Shakeel's room.

The kids make a comeback- and mom dances a jig

This morning I awoke to birds chirping more happily, the sun shining more brightly and the blue sky looking more radiant. Even Shakeel (12)'s grumpy morning face looked adorable.

It seems that the tides have turned. The winds of positive change are finally breezing through our household, hopefully cleansing it of all last week's negativity, stress and drama (as described here)

Yesterday afternoon I summoned each one to bring me their homework diaries and messages/letters sent from school. I braced myself- I just didn't know what to expect these days.

Furtive glances among the three older kids made my heart sink. What the heck now? But wait- they were smiling; happily excited. I was suspicious.

"What's going on?" I asked apprehensively, already working out what punishment I would be meting out to each respective child.

More furtive glances.

Then...

"Ta daaah!!" they all shouted in unison, each pulling out an item which they had been hiding behind their backs.

Shakeel had been presented with both his Library monitor and Playground Monitor badges. He can now boss everyone around the way he loves to do- but only now it is official.

I congratulated, gushed and hugged. Nobody deserved to be awarded this honour more than he did- nobody is as bossy as he is. This role suits him perfectly. I was proud and happy.

Shakeel shyly, but proudly posing with his two monitor badges

"And, that's not all," sang Tharaa (10), sounding like the guy on the Verimark infomercial about to announce a product's additional features. She pulled out her Homework Book.

I broke out in a cold sweat. The dreaded Homework Book. The cause of all last week's trouble. I readied myself to attack.

She flipped to the last page of her completed homework. At the bottom were the words "Lovely work. Keep it up" accompanied by a sticker of a smiling heart surrounded by bright yellow stars.

Now I'm aware that at schools these days, kids are routinely awarded smiley faces, hearts and kisses and the words "Well done, sweetheart" or "Good work little genius", so it really doesn't carry as much weight as say, when I was at school. But coming from this teacher this was really quite a vote of approval, as this woman is known to have high standards and to be intolerant of mediocre slapdash work (which is the reason she and Tharaa had gotten off to a rocky start in the first place).

I whooped, danced a jig, hugged and whooped some more. I sighed a happy sigh of relief. This motivation from an authority figure whom Tharaa admires and respects, is exactly the encouragement this child needs to continue on this path. (Yes, I do realise the implication- that I am not an authority figure she admires and respects, but hey, right now I'm just happy to have the teacher's help- I'll save my tears for therapy).

"And, that's not all," sang Tharaa in her Verimark infomercial voice. She yanked a green card from Nuha (7)'s hand.

"No, I want to show Mommy. It's my card!" wailed Nuha.

"Okay then" said Tharaa tossing the card onto the floor. I felt my earlier pride slowly start to dissipate. 

Nuha picked it up and showed it to me proudly. "Look Mommy. I got a green card today!" Oh, more relief! Green cards signify good behaviour in class; an indication that the child has worked and behaved well for the day.

Now the fact that there had been a few orange cards (signifying that the child needs to work harder at being attentive in class) interspersed among the green cards over the past two weeks, would not have bothered me too much in the past. Nuha was quite a chatterbox, I know. She has a very loud husky voice, which inevitably stands out and is always heard by the teacher when the class becomes chatty.

But I had been in a fragile state due to the antics of the older two, so the orange cards, to me, started to signify my failure as a parent. Was I raising delinquent children? How had I gone so terribly wrong?

Once again I hugged, danced and became teary-eyed- maybe I wasn't a complete loser as a mother after all.

So this morning I could overlook Shakeel's moods and the fact that 2 year old Aisha had kept me up for much of the night. There was hope once again. My kids were emerging from their brush with near-delinquency; and were once again showing me how amazing they can be if they try.

Would I ever turn in my own child for doing something wrong- hell yeah!!

I have always wondered about the situation where a mother turns in her child to the authorities in order to protect the child from his/herself. These moms, who take the 'tough love' approach are very often at the end of their tether; I am sure no parent would take such steps lightly.

I have always wondered how I would react in a situation where turning my child in is the only way I could help him/her. I imagined I would most probably be unable to follow through- I would most probably end up covering up my children's faults and they, in turn, would suffer as a result of being raised by an enabler.


Or so I'd thought.


Last week had been such a difficult school week. The kids were having an incredibly difficult time adjusting to being back at school even though it had already been the end of  the second week. I don't think that the hot 'holiday' weather and me allowing them to swim before tackling their homework had really helped them to settle into a 'back to school' routine.


Tharaa had been incredibly grumpy while doing her work. I could see that she was doing it very half-heartedly. Like last year, she was leaving her homework diary at school so I was unable to see what she was expected to do at home. When I tried to help her with homework she moaned and cried; and just ended up doing it really unenthusiastically . I'd check her work, see it was incomplete and mete out punishment, which in turn made her cry more. When she is in this state, she becomes absolutely unproductive and impossible to reason with.


Nuha, most likely imitating her older sister, too was resisting every instruction I gave her. "Take out your books. Let me check what you need to do this afternoon" was met with her twisting her body and writhing like someone experiencing a fit. She too would often burst into tears when I issued any instruction.


Shakeel, who had been stressing about his academic performance this year being so vital to his acceptance at a good high school, was surprisingly blasé about his homework and was more focused on not missing Dragonball Z (which is the only program I allow them to watch during the week). So I was so terribly disappointed one day last week when he came home and announced that he had a project due the following day! That was so unlike him.


I was becoming increasingly depressed and overwhelmed with the feeling that I was losing control. What's more, I had no idea how to deal with any of them. I sat with them, speaking calmly and appealing to their desire to do the right thing (but apparently they had no such desire). I tried positive motivation, clapping and jumping up and down with excitement when any of them even remembered to place a full stop at the end of a sentence. I watched Tharaa's face closely for the scowl to disappear for even a second, so that I could praise her for doing her work with such a positive attitude- but to no avail. I became angry and raised my voice, which caused them to sulk and become even more unproductive.


I was at the end of my tether.


On Thursday, they had no homework since we had a "Meet the Teachers" meeting at the school at 18:00. I had really had no energy for this meeting, since I'd been to them so often- they outlined school rules, teachers expectations regarding school uniforms, cell phones etc etc etc. Because we have 3 kids at the school, Mo and I usually have to juggle our attendance at each one's class- Mo attended the first part of Nuha's, then headed off to Shakeel's class. I spent most of my time listening to Tharaa's teacher and then headed off to the last part of Nuha's class meeting.


This was merely supposed to be an introduction to the teachers- with no discussion on individual children, as most teachers were still getting to know the kids' names. But at the end of Tharaa's meeting, a mother approached the teacher asking very specific questions about her daughter. Most of the parents started to leave, as the meeting was clearly at an end. But somehow I could not bring myself to move away from the class. I'd had no idea what I was about to say to the teacher, but my state of despair seemed to be keeping me glued to the person whom I was most likely perceiving as the 'light at the end of my dark dark tunnel', my saviour or just a helping hand.


When the other mother left the teacher looked toward me with a kind smile, which in my fragile state almost brought me to tears. I felt like a pent-up emotional wreck on the couch of an understanding calming and wise therapist. But fortunately I'd managed not to come across as the wreck I was- I hid my feelings under jocular (albeit slightly nervous) babbling, the details of which I absolutely do not remember. I think the jist of it was that Tharaa was not working as she should at home, that she fails to perform if there are no consequences to her non-performance.


I think I may have used the word 'manipulative'. (cringe)


I was nervous about what I'd done, but at the same time felt some sense of relief. Perhaps my motives had been entirely selfish- perhaps I'd just needed someone on whom to offload. But whatever my intentions were- I had just turned in my daughter.


I could not have foreseen the ripple effect this interaction with Tharaa's teacher would have.


The following day Mo fetched them from school. The moment he walked in I could see something was wrong. He was visibly upset. Tharaa went to her room in tears.


Shakeel informed me that he (Shakeel) had been summoned by Tharaa's teacher, who had shown him the state of Tharaa's homework book. (1) It was filled with 2 year old Aisha's scribblings, (2) The work was an incomplete mess (3) Most importantly, and the reason for Shakeel being summoned, my husband's signature appeared in the book, but had clearly been written by a child's hand.


I could not understand how I'd missed this. How had Aisha gotten hold of the book? How had I not seen that the latest homework she had done was incomplete? Shakeel, kindly put an end to my self-torture by reminding me that they all had been home with a stomach bug on Wednesday, which is how Tharaa's book had ended up within Aisha's reach. Tharaa had started to feel sick on Tuesday while doing her howework, and when she'd gotten up to go to the bathroom Aisha had gotten hold of her book. This was also why she had not completed the homework. As for my husband's signature, Tharaa insists that she had just been doodling (and to be fair- her homework book is filled with drawings and doodling where there should be math problems). Her teacher had seen it as an attempt to forge my husband's signature. Tharaa responded that if this were the case she would definitely have been able to do a better job at imitating his handwriting; while the signature in the book just looked like a child's cursive writing. 


In the car my husband had lost his mind- he had ranted and raved and Tharaa had cried. They would each be given one more chance to get their act together. Failure to do so would result in them being banned from TV for the entire term.


But I don't think it was the threat of punishment that had caused the change I've now been witnessing. I think that the entire incident had been incredibly traumatic. Shakeel, who is not accustomed to getting into trouble, being summoned by a teacher (despite the fact that it had not been for any offence he had committed);  had him a bit shaken up. Tharaa had endured the humiliation of having her brother summoned and then being reprimanded in front of the entire class. (I was not too happy about the way in which it was dealt- I would have preferred if the teacher had dealt with the matter privately).


Hubby and I were still discussing how to proceed with the issue of Tharaa's public humiliation, when she came home on Monday beaming. She had approached the teacher without being summoned (and without being instructed by me to do so) to show her how she had managed to catch up with all her outstanding work. She had even tidied up her book and re-written untidy work in her best handwriting (which is really beautiful, by the way). She had even raised the issue of the signature, reiterating to the teacher that she had merely been doodling.


When I asked her what the teacher's response had been, she replied, "My teacher said that she was proud of me for umm...I don't remember".
It appears as if she had just heard that the teacher was proud of her and had then zoned out- probably to admire the bird nesting outside the classroom.


On Friday afternoon Shakeel had come home and done 6 pages of additional maths from his workbook. He has been much more focused on his work since then.


Tharaa has undergone the most amazing transformation. She goes into the room and closes the door (which I would ordinarily not allow), but it seems to help with shutting out external stimuli. She finishes her work within the space of an hour (last week she had sat in front of her books until just before bedtime- and her work had still not been done properly). Her work is neat and organised. She brings it to me to sign after completion. I had had no idea that I was supposed to be signing her homework book each day- I had been under the impression that we just signed the homework diary (which she had previously always forgotten at school anyway).


The positive approach to homework seems to have filtered down to Nuha, who came to sit by the kitchen table while I was preparing supper without being told to do so. She too has been displaying a really positive attitude and we have already made significant progress in preparation for her weekly test on Friday.


Mo and I have decided not to raise the issue of Tharaa's 'public humiliation' with the teacher unless it happens again. The reason is that she and her teacher are establishing a really positive bond, upon which I am relying  heavily in order to keep her motivated to perform her best this year.


I am praying that the effects of this incident last and that they are not just the kids' initial response to a stressful incident. I would really have preferred not to have had to take those measures and if I had not been in the situation myself, I might have judged someone in my position for being unable to handle the matter at home. Now I realise that there is nothing wrong with involving the other key people in their lives (without relinquishing or diminishing our own responsibility obviously- although the thought of running away had crossed my mind). Keeping relevant information from the teacher in order to 'protect' Tharaa, would in my humble opinion, just have amounted to enabling her to continue to neglect her responsibilities.

Whether I had ratted on her for her own sake or simply to obtain some assistance for me, I am quite content with the outcome of my disloyalty. And it seems, so is she.

Week 1 done and dusted; and a pledge to Nuha

So the first school week of 2012 has come and almost gone.


It truly has been one of my most challenging weeks in a long time. But it has also been riddled with undeniable blessings.


Firstly regarding my fearful anticipation of driving in the city centre for the first time, which I described in my previous post, let's just say- I had every reason to be fearful. No, I did not struggle with the lane changing and end up in another province, as I had feared would happen. But it had been really really stressful and unpleasant. It has made home schooling seem like a really attractive option.


Shakeel's report card was lost; and then found. That was the first blessing- not only the fact that it was found, but that its contents reminded me of how dedicated this son of mine can be when he sets his mind to something. I am feeling a bit more confident and relaxed about him being in Grade 7 and the fact that we will start applying to high schools soon.


Shakeel had been pleasantly surprised that his teacher, about whom he had had all sorts of negative scary preconceived ideas and misinformation, has turned out to be 'really really cool'. What added to his 'coolness', was the fact that he has a second dan black belt in karate;  which pretty much makes him Shakeel's new hero. I'm glad that my son has something less about which he has to stress this year.


Yesterday Shakeel informed me that Tharaa's teacher (who had been his Grade 5 teacher) is very strict. Perfect. No, I'm not being sarcastic- I really mean that it is perfect for Tharaa. Her teacher last year had been a wonderful, fun-loving, delightful, cheerful and happy person. That type of teacher is perfect for Shakeel, since he needs to loosen up and relax. But for Tharaa, for whom the most important part of school is the playground and field upon which she can practice her cartwheels, a strict teacher is exactly what was needed.


Many afternoons last year she had come home, and much to my frustration, had told me that she had completed her homework in Homework Class (which they have as part of the Aftercare system). She had always said that she left her completed homework at school and that this had been expected of them (to prevent them from forgetting their homework at home).


Okay, I realise now that me believing that rubbish had been stupid. Or maybe just convenient. It was one person less whose work had to be checked. But I had faced the consequences just before exam time, when I looked at her Maths book to draft practice worksheets, just to find that none of her homework examples (upon which my worksheets would have been based), had been completed. Her teacher had left notes like "Homework not completed", but there had never been consequences. And of course the book had never come home with her, despite my numerous requests.


So on Wednesday I was very surprised when my carefree and careless daughter came home and hit the books immediately. What really amused me was the fact that she cried the entire time she was doing her homework. This continued yesterday, by which time her crying and sobbing had become less amusing and more irritating. But thanks to her new strict teacher, she won't dare to pull the crap she did last year. So eyes heavenward, I fall to my knees in sheer gratitude for Tharaa's new teacher being perfectly matched to my daughter's temperament.


And then there's my mixed blessing- the fact that Aisha absolutely refuses to keep on her nappy during the day. Yesterday she asked to pee and, when placed on the toilet, it turned out that she actually did have to pee. But, there is always the anxiety about whether she has left any puddles around, which have yet to be detected. So now walking around the house feels like walking in Sea Point park- with one constantly on the lookout for little 'accidents' into which one might inadvertently step.


As usual my little patient tolerant angel, Nuha enters the picture as if by an after-thought- but the reality is that she is ever-present in my nagging conscience (as she had been for the whole of last year). I'm not sure if all my focus (due to lack of time) is easily averted from her due to her tolerant accepting nature; or if she has been forced to become accepting by virtue of the fact that she is so often overlooked. The other three are so demanding, dramatic, and assertive that I've found myself focusing mainly on them, to the detriment of poor Nuha.


I was actually pleased when she started to speak out in the holidays- insisting a few times that I see to her needs first. This was unusual- it definitely made my life more challenging, but it was necessary. I was not doing a very good job of balancing the needs of the four of them. She had simply been trying to restore the balance (which had not been her job- I should have been more attentive to her needs anyway).


So this year I undertake to become much more organised and disciplined about my time-allocation. Shakeel will have to become more independent of me (which he has already been doing since last year). I will be watching Tharaa like a hawk- there is no way I'm letting a ten-year old get the better of me this year again. (Amazingly she did quite well in her exams though- but this was thanks to pre-examination cramming and not consistently hard work done throughout the year). We are getting a domestic worker to help with light household chores and provide me with some relief with Aisha.


But once the kids return from school, my priority will be spending time assisting Nuha with her homework- before the others descend upon me with their demands, tantrums and tirades.


So with week one survived, let's hope that next week will be smooth sailing.

The return of happiness

It was the much-awaited end of a dark and dreary period. The light at the end of the tunnel. The moment the clouds parted to reveal the glorious sunshine. The relief after hardship.


It was the end of the kids' formal assessments/exams.


The three weeks of formal assessments had been every bit as challenging as I had anticipated, and then some. It had been the very first time I'd had to face final formal assessments with 3 school going kids. And I was not doing well at it.


There was enormous pressure for Shakeel (12) to succeed, since he is facing high school in 2013 and it is important that he tries to get a bursary. Our frustration was that he had, until recently, achieved top marks for most subjects. Recently however, after a girl in his class beat him in one or two subjects, he has just conceded defeat. He will not even try to reclaim his position, and just accepts that he cannot achieve the same level of performance ever again.


His dad and I, out of sheer frustration, decided to provide some motivation for him.  He loves (and I mean really loves) his Playstation. He has wanted a 320 gig Playstation 3 with move for a very long time, so hubby bought it and showed it to him. He would however only get to keep it if he achieves the same level of results as before; otherwise it would be sold. So Shakeel put in immense effort (annoyingly not at all motivated by the prospect of being awarded a much-needed bursary), but in the hope that the Playstation will soon be his to keep. 


The formal assessment period had some weird effect on Tharaa (9). She became more playful than ever and just didn't take my threats, begging or even my punishment seriously. I'd give her questions to answer and find her drawing. Most of my energy went into getting her to focus or just to take the formal assessments seriously. 


Yesterday was particularly stressful, since she wrote her Natural Science paper this morning. I hadn't been in a particularly happy mood to start with, so her jokiness was even more annoying than usual. 


"Focus on your work. You are making me insane. You are going to be sorry!" she sang to the tune of Adele's "Someone like you", enjoying her irritating game of singing all my threats back at me. My head buzzed with four-letter words (while some managed to slip out, much to her amusement). 


Over the past few months (even before these assessments), Shakeel and Tharaa had taken most of my attention and time; the former because the stakes are so high this time and the latter because, well, I think she regards school work as a way to entertain herself at my expense.


In addition Aisha (2) is extremely clingy and does not want to share my attention with the others, which makes it very difficult to work with them. One particularly frustrating afternoon last week, as she  clung to me, I wished she had a little friend to play with. But then I thought, many kids who don't have friends, create them. So I pointed to a corner and said, "See Aisha, see the little girl. She wants to play with you." The poor child shrieked with fear and tried to climb up my leg- it turns out that she has inherited my fear of the unseen. For all I knew, the little girl she had been picturing was the little weirdo from "The Ring".


So, poor Nuha (6)'s homework has been neglected by me for a while now; with her dad doing it at the last minute outside the school gates before signing her homework diary. I had no idea what the poor thing was learning at any given time, as there was just too little time after they came from school in the afternoons. 


Last week she came home saying that I should help her with her spelling words, which she would be tested on in her formal assessments. They were doing the 'sh' and 'th' sounds.


"Spell 'wish'," I said, "as in 'I wish this formal assessment was over".
"W-i-s-h", she spelled out.


"Spell 'gosh' " I instructed.
"OMG," she responded earnestly, surprising me with her knowledge of internet slang (for which I blame Selena Gomez).


So this afternoon, I was ecstatic when they returned from school, signalling the end of the formal assessments. Finally I could breathe again, smile again-after three weeks of blood, sweat and tears.  And just in time to celebrate Tharaa's birthday tomorrow.

Two-year old's party halted by the fun police

Yesterday was Aisha's second birthday.

Two hours after she woke up yesterday morning, I was praying desperately that the year ahead would not be anything like her first few waking hours as a two-year old.

She has had a head-start on her terrible two's, since she's been throwing temper tantrums for months already, but I had optimistically (and unrealistically) really hoped that they would have fizzled out by now. Instead, it seemed like her biological clock was set with extreme precision. Upon awaking she had entered into this new phase with ease, by throwing the worst tantrum she had done to date.

Nothing I did or said helped. Everything made it worse. Eventually I managed to calm her down slightly by taking her outside, where I held her on my lap while I sat on the icy cement step overlooking our little garden. I distracted her by showing her the bees pollinating the flowers, the birds in the lemon tree and various insects crawling next to us. She looked at them unimpressed, and then looked up at me, as if challenging me to come up with something better- or else.

Something (maybe maternal instinct?) made me start to stroke her back while humming to her. She lay her head on my shoulder- satisfied, calm. I didn't dare move a muscle. I tried to ignore the icy cold of the step on which I was sitting. "It's all in the mind", I told myself, as I felt a cramp starting in my coccyx region.

Eventually it became too painful and uncomfortable. I slowly reached back for the doormat, slid it toward me, lifted myself and in one smooth movement, managed to plant it under me and sit back down.

Success.

But, little missy who had obviously been silently observing my audaciousness, sat up abruptly and ordered in a low voice, "Sit on bum!" What the heck did she think I was sitting on?

I panicked.

She repeated, more firmly this time, "Sit on bum Mommy!" I realised she was trying to tell me sit back on the cement, but I wasn't ready to suffer that again.

I acted as if I didn't know what she meant. "I am sitting on my bum, darling. See?" I said, pointing to my slowly-defrosting posterior.

She decided to make herself clearer.

"Put bum down. Bum off mat," she ordered, tugging at me. I decided to ignore her. After all, I wasn't about to let this little two year old dicate to me- an experienced mother of four. No way- I was about to reclaim my authority.

"No Aisha, Mommy wants to sit on the mat". I said bravely.

Then in a voice, which gave me flashbacks to scenes from "The Exorcist", she growled, "Bum off mat NOOWWW!!"

I leaped off the mat. She hadn't really won, I reassured myself. I wasn't a wimp. I was just giving in because it was her birthday. Next time she wouldn't be so lucky.

Hubby phoned home a few times, feeling nothing but affection for his sweet little princess. He missed her, wished he was spending her birthday with her instead of at work. My complaints about her tantrum-on-steroids fell on deaf ears.

Although we had decided to celebrate Aisha's birthday together with Tharaa's right after the formal assessments/ exams, hubby felt that his darling's birthday could not go uncelebrated on the day as well. He would bring home a cake or two and we'd celebrate as a family during the children's study break.

Study break? Celebration? With Shakeel writing Maths, English, History and Geography and Technology within the
following two days;  and Tharaa writing English, Afrikaans, History and Economic and Management Sciences within
the same period! What is this dude smoking? I asked myself incredulously.

But eventually I resigned myself to the fact that I was outnumbered. The children had been so excited about having a little party for Aisha when they came home from school and I did not want to come across as being the monster-parent.

The kids came home and I transformed from wimpy-mom-of-tantrum-throwing-Aisha, to a threatening, wooden-spoon-
wielding drill seargent. Books out, subjects prioritised and we were ready to get going with our study session before the little party.

The children were in no mood to study. They were too excited about it being Aisha's birthday. I couldn't get them to focus despite my use of threats, ultimatums and even the wooden spoon.

They were constantly singing "Happy Birthday to you" while studying. I just couldn't shut them up.

When relatives call to wish the kids, they always do so by singing the "Happy Birthday" song. She obviously did not have a clue that it was a birthday, so I think she just thought that everyone was calling to have a sing-along, which is what she did. Also, I think that she's under the impression that her name forms part of the song. She is not likely to be impressed in two weeks time when everybody substitutes her name for Tharaa's.

The little party was held- the older kids were in raptures, while two-year old Aisha watched them confused, no doubt wondering how they could be so relaxed during the exam (or was that just me?).

Hubby bought Aisha a Baby Born Birthday doll set, which she tossed aside to play with the plastic cupcake which came as part of the set.

The birthday cake was cut amidst shrieks of laughter and delight (in the exam!), with me making sure that hubby saw me intermittently checking my watch.

By the time the little party ended, the kids were too exhausted to study. I gave up. They had won. They had enjoyed themselves, laughed and sung despite it being exams (unheard of!).

This morning Aisha woke up, smiled at me sweetly and asked, "How are you Mommy?" She then sat up and hugged me.

Immediately, I melted and all was forgiven.

I will no longer hijack my kids' projects- I promise

It's hard to believe that schools are already starting the final formal assessments for the year.

These assessments usually are constituted by projects and tests.

So often I've heard parents (particularly mothers) complain that involvement in children's projects is adding to their already heavy workloads, with parents often contributing more than the kids themselves. Given South Africa's uneven wealth distribution, it bothers me that children who have a stay-at-home parent with a decent level of education, will have an advantage over children whose parents work full days, especially in the case where parents are very often not educated or even literate (and therefore not in the position to help the children with projects and homework).

My kids have the added 'advantage' in that they have a mom whose sense of self-worth is directly tied in to her kids' achievements (or lack thereof), and who is therefore obsessive about providing the necessary support and
motivation to ensure their success (so that she can feel good about herself).

My kids usually do their own research for projects, after which I will check, give input- and try to restrain myself from re-doing the entire project MY WAY, while they are sleeping. Their projects are usually a result of their own research and understanding of the topics- well, most of the time......

Two years ago Shakeel had to do a project on an influential South African. He selected Dr Chris Barnard and I had insisted that he use the public library instead of the internet (as I thought that he would score extra marks for extra effort). We took out 'Christiaan Barnard- One Life' by Christiaan Barnard and Curtis Bill Pepper, a 366-page book with the tiniest print you've ever seen; which I started reading on the way home. By night time, I was completely hooked and was reluctant to give up the book.

I completed reading the book over the next few days, and then proceeded to answer the assignment questions, which Shakeel had hurriedly jotted down at my request. Oh, I was so pleased with myself; not only for the fact that I had been able to answer all the questions without re-reading any part of the book or conducting any additional research, but also for my depth of understanding of the complicated medical processes explained in the book.

I completed my draft of the assignment in no time. All that was left for Shakeel to do was a cover page, contents page, introductory summary, bibliography and a blurb at the end of his project booklet.

I was pleased with my part of the project, so I did not even care to check his.

On the day the result was released, Shakeel looked nervous as he approached me. I (er, I mean 'he') had obtained a lousy 64%. I felt a wave of nausea as I sank onto the sofa- shocked, humiliated. After recovering slightly later that night I looked at the final copy of the assignment for the first time. My son had not bothered to attach a proper cover page, he had not done a contents page, summary or a bibliography. He had not even provided me with all the questions which had to be answered!

I know I should have been furious, but I couldn't help feeling relieved- the low mark was his fault, and not mine. Or was it? I wished I could approach his teacher and ask her to have my contribution to the project graded independently of his. (Yes, I know, I should be committed).

Let me hurriedly state that none of this should be a reflection on Shakeel. He had known better than to challenge his crazed mother as she took it upon herself to hijack his project.

My kids perform better in tests than they do in projects. In the early days I would question Shakeel on his work, ensuring that he did not leave the house on test morning until he could answer each question effortlessly. But, since I now have three kids at school and a demanding baby, I am training him and Tharaa to draft their own question papers, which they should use to study and revise. This is not always successful, as they still need so much guidance when drafting the questions.

On test mornings we usually try to maintain a calm and positive atmosphere in the house before they leave for school. (All threats like "Don't bother to come home if you get less than 80%" would have been made the night before). Previously I would worry the entire test day, wondering how they were progressing, but thanks to poor hubby, who often is forced to act as my therapist and life coach, I now try not to stress about things over which I have no control. 

At the moment Shakeel is busy with a project on one of the major religions in South Africa; while Tharaa's is on the planet Mars. At this point I must give myself a pat on the back- my only contribution thus far has been to point them in the direction of relevant websites and provide some books- which they could choose to use or not.

I think I should focus less on controlling their projects and work on an important project of my own- developing my own goals so that my sense of self-worth is linked to my own achievements instead of theirs. My kids will be so relieved.