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Noah

Keeping My Mouth Shut. (…pffffft as if…)

January 13, 2014 by cosmicgirlie 7 Comments

Yeah it’s another semi Facebook rant, but it’s also a few words on a small triumph.

My rant begins with the number of people posting the “STOP DOING THESE THINGS ON FACEBOOK” posts. Stop posting about your kids, your food, your bowel movements. Stop bragging with your holiday snaps. Stop remembering people who died a million years ago. Stop this, stop that, stop communicating on a social network platform.

off-is-the-general-direction_large

You know you can shut that shit down, right? Lord knows I’ve done it enough times over the last few weeks. I open Farcebook, looking to see what’s going on with the wedding world, or to see what my awesome mates are getting up to, and come away wondering if I’m actually allowed to post anything on a social platform designed for POSTING AND SHARING. I discovered several wonderful features, maaaaaany months ago. Hide/block/unfriend gets used a lot. As does “do you wish to close this browser?” Why yes, Google Chrome. Yes I fucking do, since everyone is in a shitty mood and I’m supposed to NOT SAY ANYTHING.

But my rant comes, because today I posted this.

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I’ve written about my determination to get them into private school many times before.

http://cosmicgirlie.com/2013/03/14/yeah-im-still-a-school-snob/

http://cosmicgirlie.com/2013/06/24/determined-blazing-glory-face/

Now, my friends who give a shit, will know I have been stressed to my goddamn EYEBALLS in the past, trying to sort out good schooling for The Smalls. Their current school is painful. In the last 3 months, I’ve had to rescue Noah’s reading. He’s gone from crying every time I tell him it’s time to read a school book, through to requesting 5 minutes at bedtime to read several chapters of his own books. He despairs with school books. Here at home, we can’t give him enough to read; I’m pre-empting what the hell he could read next. Providing Isaac isn’t in mental crazy-boy mode in the mornings, they both read for 15 minutes when they wake up.

Noah comes home with weekly maths tests, with which he gets no help at school. We, his parents, have no idea of the point of them, what they’re trying to achieve, how we are to help him, IF we are allowed to help him, how often he is to do them…no help. We have no idea. So when Noah came home with the same test again for the umpteenth time because he didn’t get the answers right at school, he was obviously in tears. He’s borderline hating maths. It’s only thanks to twinkl (that site has been a SAVIOUR, that’s for sure) and me saying “fuck it, school, I’m going to teach him MY way”, he has FINALLY clicked how to work through the test with much less help. Was I supposed to help him? Fuck knows. Support from school has been minimal; The Mr and I are still in the dark.

We understand that with the education system the way it is at the mo, you get what you pay for. I know perfectly well that state schools are stretched to stupidly ridiculous levels, and the majority of children are just not getting the full help and care needed. Teachers are being pushed to absolute limits, and many are in the dark on their subjects, as a result. I know; I’ve taught in schools. So, the aim is to send them to private school, to give them the absolute best education we can afford to give them. The schools in our area are not able to give us what we need. I don’t expect my boy to end up in tears every time I ask him to do numeracy or literacy.

 

Fyi, this morning he said to me “You know, Mommy, I feel much better about my numbers now that you’ve helped me. I think it might be a bit easier now.” Geeze. And if I had stepped back because I had assumed I was not allowed to help? What then?

Anyway. I posted that facebook status, because I am really goddamn pleased to feel that I’m doing all I can to help his education. It is a BLOODY BIG THING to me, making sure that they are BOTH educated people when they grow, with a sense of self, good intelligence, and sound knowledge of important subjects. And of course, rightly so, I’m goddamn proud of my children. So why did I feel immediate guilt when I posted it? Why did I feel that I had to justify posting what I posted?

Why did I think to myself, the actual words, “shit, I better clarify that, as I don’t want people to think I’m bragging about getting them into private school. Hell, maybe I should just delete it?”

I really don’t like myself for thinking that. I wanted to share something with my friends, with people who I thought might give a shit, people who might be mildly interested with our progress, people who are family and want to know what’s going on…it’s my Facebook page and it’s how I let people know stuff. People who care.

So I didn’t delete it, and I’m going to keep posting stuff like that. And I’m going to keep posting how proud I am of my boys. I’m going to keep posting birthday messages to them, and a photo, assuming I remember to do so and haven’t forgotten, because sometimes I’m a douche mom but y’know, it happens.

I’m bloody proud of my kiddos, I’m a foodie, I like photos, and I’m a bloody chatty person. Sooooooo I guess people are going to have to exercise that “STFU” button a little more often where I’m concerned. And now the sun is shining which means it’s time to go outside and play with another camera.

 

 

Filed Under: Asshats, Education, Facebook, Isaac, Noah, Parenting Skillz, Rant, Thoughts

Six.

January 10, 2014 by cosmicgirlie 12 Comments

Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14 Noah's 6th Birthday, Jan 14

Filed Under: Birthday, Family, Noah

Then there were the next shitty bits which I forgot about.

September 28, 2013 by cosmicgirlie 54 Comments

This week, I told The Smalls, The News. I told them as best as I could (“Very soon, I won’t be living here any more, BUT you will still see me ALL THE TIME, and you can come and play round my house if you like, and I’ll still pick you up from school, and do your tea, and listen to you read, and do writing and dinosaurs and Doc McStuffins, and – Noah, it’s ok, there’s no need to cry, you’ll still SEE me, and I’ll still nag you to sort your stuff out, and tell you to pick up your toys! And I’ll still do French with you and stuff. Pardon Isaac? Yeah sure! Of COURSE there’s no need to cry, you get it, right? Sure you do. It’ll be fun! Yes, of COURSE you can bring Father Bear and your dinosaurs.”) and cried silently while Noah had a cuddle.

Because I have to be brave and strong for him, right?

I think, although the news sunk in immediately with Noah, he was pretty quick to understand that I’m not going far away. I’ve shown him houses I’ve been looking at online, ad have told him roughly where they are. He realises that I’m aiming to move, quite literally, up the road.

So…yeah. I’m moving out. And We have decided they will be registered as living with me. Originally, at the start of the week, they were to live here in their current home with The Mr.

And then I flipped my shit, because I realised that would pretty much make me feel like a nanny; pick them up from school, look after them until he returns, and then bugger off. Be their primary carer, without the title of primary carer. That didn’t sit well with me. So I had a minor rant, and verbalised with twitter a whole lot, and got some really fucking useful info. We can SHARE custody of The Smalls (I fucking hate the word “custody”, it feels taboo), and as long as it stays out of court (you bet your fucking ass it will stay out of court…) we can decide on shared custody in whatever way we please. I didn’t realise this before, though it makes me a lot happier now.

So, they will be living with me for the most part, though I guess they will do most nights in their current home.

I say that NOW, I have no idea how it will be once I’m out of this house.

SO THAT’S NICE.

I fucking hate being so goddamn lonely.

I think I was lonely all along, for aaaaaaages and ages, but deciding on separation kinda highlighted it. Which is pretty shit.

And then, loads of people are offering help and support (you really are fucking amazing, those of you who have offered or mentioned or whatever. Thank you). Which is lovely, but…I think because there’s SO MUCH going on, with a whole spectrum of family issues as well as Endings, I know I don’t yet feel there’s anyone I’m wholly comfortable with. I know that once I start talking, I probably won’t stop, and there’s just sooooooo so much built up.

So instead it comes out here. Into open posts, into photos, into private posts, onto twitter…it almost feels easier to spread the load, rather than try to talk to a small handful of people. I suppose it’s also weird because there are people whom I’m drawn to, to talk to, but can’t (for whatever reason). And then there are others so seemingly…desperate…maybe, to reach out. But I can’t let them near for whatever reason. The connections aren’t right, the vibes aren’t there, the words are wrong. It makes perfect sense to me.

In this last week, everything seems to be happening at a lightning speed, and yet I can’t get through this fast enough. Looking for somewhere to live, working out how I can support myself on practically minimum wage, wanting to get to the stage when crippling emotions finally start to lose their edge.

I’m that mom in the school playground, who hides in the corner not wanting to make eye contact, avoiding talking to people. The one you think is a stuck up asshole, too good to speak to others, but is in fact just trying to hold her shit together. Trying hard not burst into tears in the playground. Trying not to let others see her face because her eyes are puffy and horrible, and her face is already streaked with salt water tears.

I despise those moments, because they leave me exhausted, low, frustrated, angry – full of all the negatives. I won’t survive this if I’m full of negatives. I know there must be balance, I get that. But the scales are stupidly fucking tipped, and won’t stop wobbling.

I currently have no fear about where I’m going, or what I’m doing. I know it’s right, I know it’s meant to be. I’m ok with that. And I know that I haven’t got time to be afraid, because this is just the shit that I have to get on with. I’ve made my choices, including this bastarding path I’m on.

My feet hurt. I am tired. I’d like a Zimmer frame. I’m a fucking pussy, whining about shit all the time. Maybe I need a reality check. Maybe I need a break. Maybe I need to get royally shit-faced with friends and remember Life. Maybe I need someone to just stop, listen and hear me, genuinely.

Maybe I’ll just try to keep recharging, ready for the Next Shitty Thing.

Filed Under: Beginnings, Endings, Family, Isaac, Noah, Parenting Skillz, The Smalls, Thoughts

Kids In The Street

June 18, 2013 by cosmicgirlie 6 Comments

I posted this over on my biz blog today, but realised I wanted it on my “home turf”. Partly because I rarely photograph The Smalls properly, partly because I miss being a kid playing out in the street, partly because I want more photos of The Smalls here, for the future.

And partly to take my mind off a ton of other crap. They do that quite well.

The Scooting Smalls, 170613 The Scooting Smalls, 170613 The Scooting Smalls, 170613 The Scooting Smalls, 170613 The Scooting Smalls, 170613 The Scooting Smalls, 170613 The Scooting Smalls, 170613 The Scooting Smalls, 170613 The Scooting Smalls, 170613 The Scooting Smalls, 170613

Filed Under: Isaac, Noah, Photography stuffs, The Smalls

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