Child Publications, February 2008

Transcription

1 Every month, my son brings home the newsletter from preschool. And every month there is a call for parent volunteers to come in and "read a book, do some craft, or share a culture". I had always felt uncertain about volunteering. Sure, I could spare an hour, but I didn't think I had any particular skill to share with the children. I could read them a story, but I'm not good at craft and I spent most of my adolescence trying to escape my culture rather than share and celebrate it. I expressed my concerns to the director of the preschool and she assured me that the type of activity didn't really matter. Some children just love seeing their parents; some children like seeing other children's parents; but for the most part, the invitation for parent volunteers is more for the benefit of the parents. It gives them an opportunity to see what happens during a preschool day. So I decided that this time I would volunteer. But I wouldn't simply read a book or do some craft. I would do something different. I decided that I would make a short film with the children. Ambitious? Perhaps. But not impossible. The children could come up with the story and I would write the screenplay. The children would make the set and costumes, and each child would play a part. I would film and edit this masterpiece. It sounded like a simple enough plan. The children came up with a story about princesses, princes, horses, dragons and a mean king whose fate was to be put in a giant bucket while everyone else danced around him, pointing their fingers and laughing at him. Oooh, kids can be mean! So, the children began making costumes and sets and you could sense the buzz around the preschool. I was feeling quite confident and clever for doing something different. Finally, the day came to commence filming, and the comedy of errors began. I arrived at the school and realised that I had no tripod for the camera. No problem. This film would have Steven Soderbergh influences - funky, hand-held camera work. Next, lighting. For the sake of convenience, I thought I would use natural light. I suddenly remembered something about white balances and reflectors. Alfoil anyone? Bugger it, everyone could look uniformly green. At this point, I confirmed what I have always known - I'm not a director or a cinematographer. Once the actors were in place, directions were given. "Quiet on the set... Quiet on the set, everyone... QUIET ON THE SET." Since the children seemed not to understand `Quiet on the set', I decided that I would just have to get the children to enunciate every syllable in a loud voice. It would be part of the charm. But, for some reason, young children cannot distinguish between how fast they say something and how loud they say it. It seems the louder they speak, the faster they speak. The slower they speak, the softer they speak. It really is a curious thing. It was time for the first take. Someone was crying. One of the horses didn't want to be a horse any more. As this little boy was being comforted by one of the teachers, the rest started `horsing' around (okay, I'm not a director, a cinematographer or a comedian). Finally, everyone was settled and into position for the first take. Camera rolling. Action. And... nothing. All the children just stood there, confused. "Okay princes, just hop off the horses and walk over there." Prince Number One moved to the designated spot, but then asked, "Over here?" Prince Number Two came into frame and said, "No, a bit further, otherwise I don't fit". Well, what do you do with that? Try, try again? Absolutely. Even though everything was falling apart around me, I would carry on. This short film was going to be fun - for the children at least. And that's what mattered. At the end of the day, despite the mishaps, hissy fits, and line stuff-ups, the children just loved the end product. They loved seeing themselves and their friends on the small screen. As for me, I can tick `parent volunteer' off my `to do' list... and put it on my `never to do again' list. Unless, of course, I read a book next time. What could possibly go wrong with that? _ Child Publications, February 2008

2 Child Publications, February 2008 This year, my son, the second of my three children, will start school. There will be no tears from me... I hope. No nervousness from him... I hope. He has been watching his sister go to school for two years now and he's been dying to join the ranks. He knows the school and he knows the teachers; in no time, he'll know the children. But will I know the mums? When my daughter started school, I had a clean slate. I was itching to get going and ready to be anybody's and Barbara introduced me to Liz and the four of us began to `hang out'. In the frenzy of this whole friendmaking venture, my daughter made another friend, Maya. Maya's parents introduced themselves to me one day and we have been friends ever since, inviting each other over for weekend barbecues, going out to the movies and attending birthday celebrations. And before I could say `I wonder if I'll make any more friends here', I could safely add Lisa, Amanda, Annette, Georgina, everybody's friend. First I met Gina; her son was in my daughter's class. Gina invited us over to her place one afternoon. There I met Barbara. Her daughter Emily was also in my daughter's class. The two girls became firm friends: and so did Barbara and I. Linda, Alex, Lindsay, Marlies, Diane, Lee, Rebecca, Wei, Carolina, Ela... the list goes on. I'm very happy with this tribe of school mums. We get on fabulously well, chatting in the school playground every day, and we often catch up during the school holidays. And I'm not shy about saying that it's not for the benefit of the children. Well, maybe a little, but not entirely. For the last two years while I have been busy making my own friends and pretty much dragging my daughter and other two children along for the ride, I didn't really consider what would happen when my other children started school. Am I expected to show the same enthusiasm when my son starts school this year? To be honest, my calendar is already full. As a social being, I do have my limitations. My son will make friends, and outings will be arranged, but do I have the time or the inclination to pursue new friendships with a new bunch of mums? Will the old group of mums understand? Will they still include me in the group? Maybe I'm getting carried away here. We are talking about a group of reasonable adults. But will my son notice if I don't `hang around' his friends' mums as often as I do my daughter's? And what do I do when my third child starts school? Obviously, I'm not the first mum to have more than one child attend school and I certainly won't be the last. I know I like meeting new people. So I suppose the answer is staring me square in the face. On the first day of school, when my son walks into his classroom, I'll introduce myself to the mum next to me. We'll go into the school hall and have a cup of tea. I'll wave to the old group of mums and tell them I'll catch up with them tomorrow. _

3 t's my mantra: I must have faith in my parenting skills. Even though it might sometimes seem skills and values that I am trying to instil in my children are falling on deaf ears, I must have faith in my parenting skills. I need to reassure myself that my words of wisdom are permeating those little eardrums. That through a process not unlike osmosis, they are learning and will one day behave accordingly. I think about my relationship with my mother and I remember how she often tried to teach me something or other. Even though 16 years ago I pretty much dismissed everything she had to say, I now find myself behaving just like her - in more ways than one. Not only do I sound like my mother, I am also finally doing the very things that she asked of me all those years ago. There were, of course, many situations in which my mother and I butted heads. But curiously, there was one scenario where my mother never took issue with me. Looking back on it now, it's as if she had the foresight just to let it play out. My mother would ask me every night to help out by putting the dishes away before I went to bed. But I never did. Why? Well, let's be honest: I was simply too lazy. And I knew that when morning came, my mother would do it herself. But here I am today, in charge of my own household and I find myself always putting the dishes away at night - just so that I won't have to do it in the morning. It is only now that I fully understand and appreciate the enormous daily task my mother undertook to raise her family and run Maria Tedeschi reminds herself that it wasn't until she left home that she started to behave in ways that reflected her upbringing, the household. If only I had understood back then. But although I now feel guilty about my indifference towards helping my mother, I also realise that I will soon face those same trials and tribulations with my own children. I often daydream about my future household and about what it will be like when I have certain expectations of my teenage children, who will of course have differing views. It is important that I remember how I felt during the various stages of my own adolescence. Putting dishes away and having a clean house just weren't important to me back then. But what my mother might not have known is that I had also grown accustomed to living in the house and home that she had shaped. And so when I hit the big, bad world, I suddenly found myself setting those same standards for myself. Parenting is about teaching our children about life. And although life extends beyond the realms of the household, the household is the ultimate training ground. My children might not get it right or even seem to want to get it right for now, but once they leave the safe haven of the family home, I need to believe that those skills that I tried so hard to instil in them will surface. My mother should take heart. She may not be the one benefiting from my newfound diligence, but her legacy will live on long after she is gone. Sydney s Child Melbourne s Child Dec/Jan 07 issue

4 motherinc. Features and Top Tips 09/23/ :20 AM THAT S NAUGHNIES MUM! GO WOOM! sponsored by I m naughty? I ask my two-and-a-half year old daughter Jordan. Yes mum! she says. What did I do? I ask. Don t frow pen, mum. Jordan says whilst pointing her index finger at me. Go woom. WIN! The Laugh and Learn Car TM us your story to WIN Go woom?! She s sending me to her room? I haven t been sent to ANY room in a long time. I look at her stunned. How should I react? What do I do? Giggle at her attempt to be adult happy that she understands (finally) that we do not throw things, or nervously look away? Maybe she ll forget. No, I need to stay in control of the situation. I am the parent here aren t I? I look back at her trying to work out what s going on and what I should do next when my daughter takes me by the hand and leads me to her room and sits me on her bed. Now stay dere, she says as she closes her door and walks away. I m dumbfounded. I ve just experienced my very own Freaky Friday. Jordan is behaving exactly the way I do towards her. She even has my mannerisms and inflections down to a T. Do I really sound like that? As I sit there perplexed as to why, or even how I have been banished (probably much like Jordan reacts when I send her to her room), Jordan then walks back into the room and gives me a rub on my shoulder and says, You alwight mum? Yeah? Okay, and leads me back out. What just happened here? Page 1 of 3

5 motherinc. Features and Top Tips 09/23/ :20 AM Am I so sleep deprived that reality is starting to warp before my wary eyes or is my daughter trying to tell me something? I consult my wide and trusted collection of child rearing books about discipline and find that a number of things have unfolded before me. DISCIPLINE: AN INTRODUCTION Let us start at the beginning. A: Teach acceptable behaviour. Set limitations and stick to them say the books. Okay, check. Throwing pens is unacceptable behaviour. And when we don t act in an acceptable manner we go to our room for some time out (one minute for every year in age) to think about what we have just done and why we shouldn t do it again. Parents included it seems. B: repetition, repetition, repetition. When teaching our little ones acceptable behaviour whether it be introducing simple manners, or to not wear our underwear on our head (in public at least), or to not unload the entire contents of mums handbag on the doctor s waiting room floor, behaviour must be taught through the same course of action and using the same words each and every time. So naturally A + B = imitating mummy. Imitation is after all the greatest form of flattery and toddlers learn most from simply observing how we big people behave. When they recognise a situation that is similar they just imitate the role-play. In this case, Jordan has taken the role of parent and teacher. And she is simply able to play out that role because I have repeated it many times before. Children need predictable consequences. They must know that if they behave in a certain way, the consequence will be the same. They also need an explanation as to why particular behaviours are unacceptable. We don t throw pens because it could hit someone, or the pen could break and make a mess. And that s naughty. I have found with Jordan that I need to reinforce key words. In this case naughty being the operative one. With her limited vocabulary I stick to the same words so she understands the situation at hand. Having said that, positive reinforcement works well too. She loves it when I give her a big hug and tell her that she is doing a wonderful job. With these rules set in place, Jordan evidently does understand what is acceptable behaviour and what is not. DISCIPLINE: THE NEXT STEP Okay but let s get back to the problem at hand. I can t let this ruly 2 year old get the better of me. How do I get around not being sent to her room every time I do something wrong? Let s face it I m not perfect either. As adults, what do we do when we do something wrong? What separates us from the toddler? Our ability to admit our mistake and apologise. This should suffice. Perhaps Jordan is ready for the next step in growing up. From now on I should give her the chance to right her wrong before I send her Page 2 of 3

6 motherinc. Features and Top Tips 09/23/ :20 AM on I should give her the chance to right her wrong before I send her to her room for time-out. So after my daughter s little disciplinary action is all said and done, I sit down and watch Jordan play with her four month old baby brother Alex and a smile creeps across my face. I m raising the nations future and it s doing okay. As I hear Jordan say, Don t hit me Aweks. That s naughnies. Go woom. Here we go again. I think this time I will take back some control and show what I have learnt about parenting in the 21st century. Terms of Use Privacy and Security Contact Us Site Search Page 3 of 3