Bootcamp blog September 2012

Sadly Bootcamp has had to close. Although many of the classes are still running. September is always a very busy month as the children go back to school, activities recommence after the summer break and we start teaching again.
Attending classes with any regularity has become an impossibility when birthdays and other events are added into the already packed equation therefore its all been a bit slow going to be honest. It staggers me how I can put on weight so easily yet loose it soooo very slowly.
I managed to loose about 4 lbs then it goes back on, goes off and then on again.
My body appears to be very content about a stone heavier than I would like it too be, and that is nearly 2 stone heavier than I was a few years back.
Yes I know I have now entered 'that age' whereby every carb wants to lock itself to my body and not move but still, hey give me a break.
I am tired and ill as well and to be honest some days just crave carbs. I really need to find some motivation somewhere to loose the weight and be done with it. The only motivation I seem to have is when I pull on my work clothes and virtually have to suck in everything to get the buttons done up!
This weight/ age thing is a real pain.
So back to classes I will go now we are in our new routines and I am not in dire jeopardy of forgetting to pick up a kid from somewhere.
Back to buying fish and greens, no more toast for breakfast and cutting out all my coffee and erm wine!
I am not that into puddings so thats a blessing, and I just need to remember to buy biscuits for the kids that I don't like!
Will let you know in October if I have succeeded!

The note

I love it when the children get big enough to write and express themselves, because it's then we are inundated with little notes and pictures.
Tonight was one such example.
Mair was doing her homework from school, interspersed with taking all Bella's revision cards and writing notes to everyone telling them that she loves them.
They were found all over the house.
She had even blu tacked them to the wooden doors.
They were beautifully written and everyone has taken theres to their bedrooms too keep.
I have boxes of notes over the years. I keep each and everyone. I can remember when they were written and by who. I cherish those little notes more than so many other things, because they hold so much meaning, they were not forced but written out of love and from my children's hearts.
I am so pleased Mair writes her notes and I cannot wait for Caleb and Anya to do so too.

Save me from TV shows about Large Families PLEASE!

And so the season of programmes is about to commence once again.....
Okay probably not my most popular of posts, certainly not if you are a lover of these types of programmes.
I struggle enough with writing a blog about my family. My husband isn't keen on me doing it, and I constantly think about deleting it.
But why these sorts of programmes.
As some of you may know we have been asked to feature on a few. I wonder where they find me? Someone said through a twins site, but I am not sure.
Find me they do.
No, I do not want my family featured in a magazine about how big we are.
So what!
No I do not want to appear on 15 kids and counting ( see my last exposition on this)
and no I do not fancy having TV cameras placed around my house and filmed for  The Family, or the other recent programme we were contacted about.
Why on earth is just simply producing my children such a big deal?
To be totally crude, it shows I can reproduce! or rather reproduce on a bigger scale, or choose to do so.
It doesn't really make noteworthy, life changing TV does it.
Lord, I would be bored watching me!
I like documentaries and I like books about real people.
But I like the ones where people have done amazing things, or just THINGS.
I don't see having my family as fitting into those categories whatsoever.
Now take some of my friends.
They don't have my family size but they do wonderful things, and manage those things around their families and work commitments.
That's worth a TV show!
Then there's the issue of putting your children on TV.
Urgh, it makes me cringe. The more I study for my masters in Early Years the more I worry about this issue.
What signal are we sending them?
That they are more important because their mummy had loads of kids?
My younger children would not be able to have  a say, so I would be making the decision on their part.
I once watched a programme about the Walton Sextuplets. They were filmed throughout their lives. When one was 14 she flatly refused to be filmed again. Her parents said in retrospect they would not have had the tv crews in, but did not know how else to finance their instant family at the time.
I think, looking at this child's face convinced me, if I needed any convincing never to place my children in this position.
Large families, do not have a good press.
The programme 15 kids and counting was filmed quite well and showed hard working and fairly normal families. Still there was a huge amount of negativity that convinced me, Joe Public is not in favour of my brood. I knew this already! having encountered a few not-so-nice midwives until I hastily explained I had a job!
This leads me onto my next cringe worthy point of those features of huge families claiming benefits. You know the articles, the ones most large, hard working, families read and want to die.
The worst, hands down, was the one about a mum of 10, who, like me had idiopathic scholliosis. Unlike me, after child 3 she was told not to have any more as it was making her condition worse. She went onto have another 7 and had to claim disability benefit, her husband had to give up his job to be her carer. They complained about the size of house not being adequate as well as they fact the breakfasts that were brought to the door each morning cooked for them, were not enough and cold.
Call me mean, but if I had been told after child 3 that my condition was worsening I would have stopped. We each have a choice and a moral responsibility to be able to look after the children we have and to provide for them. Articles such as these do us no favours.
In the long run, I chose my family, no as some marketing, money making tool, but because I love children and enjoy having them. Not to share with the world and his wife, to voyeur.
I know in The States these type of programmes are turned into series. I really hope we don't follow suit. If we do, I for one will not be switching on.

Happy Birthday to me!!!

There's something unexciting about birthdays when you get to my age.

I no longer leap out of bed in anticipation, rather I crawl out in some subconscious slumber too see how many new wrinkles have developed overnight!.

Every things heading south rapidly and birthdays remind me of the execration of this process.

I also equate it now to the day before we cremated Joshua, so I no longer wish to celebrate it that much.
Infact I have downplayed it so much the children have no idea when it is now.
As celebrations go, I don't like the fuss. I would far rather the children made me something nice when they want to rather than because a certain day prescribes they do. Likewise are my feelings towards Mothers Day and Valentines Day, oh dear I am sounding like a kill joy!
Saying that, the children made me some hilarious cards and I had a somewhat eventful day.
In the torrential rain that went on all day and night I started a new contract in Denbigh (45 mins away). Just about to leave with Bella and Martha (who go to school there) Simon returned (he was taking Mair to breakfast club) to say his car wasn't working. I had to chase around doing the school runs and then going to work. The car needed petrol so we had to stop on the A 55. As we were approaching the A55 sliproad again, Martha commented the car was very windy...perhaps because the boot was open. On closer inspection my brief case had also fallen out. Thankfully a lovely man in a van had watched the whole thing and followed me with my briefcase in tow.
Amazingly, I arrived in work 5 mins early, looking like a drowned water rat however!
Thankfully the group I was teaching were lovely and the rest of the day was uneventful.
So there goes another one....I wonder what will have changed in a year?

Starlight Express UK Tour

Last night my family and I were treated to 25 roller-skating, singing, dancing actors, pretending to be toy trains, zooming around a stage and managing to sing and dance as well! It was a spectacular performance.

The plot is quite simple. The voice of a child playing with his toy trains racing each other. The trains then appear to come alive and have distinctive roles. Rusty the steam train, to Diesel and Electra, the electric train and all the various car that can be attached to them. The moral is obvious: new and flashy isn’t always the best, what is inside is more important than what is on the surface. There is also a love element as well.

The story is played out in song. Andrew Lloyd Webber wrote the music (originally intended for an animated movie) and then year’s later re wrote it with Richard Stilgoe adding the lyrics. It became one of the longest running West End shows, closing after a run of 18 years.

The show that is now travelling around has been modified form the original and has also been updated with dynamic choreography by Arlene Phillips as well as Bill Kenwrights dazzling lighting and 3D special effects. It is the first musical I have been to where I have been handed 3D glasses!

The rock opera musical is filled with catchy tunes as well as costumes with lights and sounds so intricate in detail that they actually lulled the audience into believing they were trains. The performers were outstanding in their ability to sing, dance and act on skates. They must hold amazing strength and stamina as the show lasts for two hours!

I took an 11 year old, 14 and 16 year old. The audience was very mixed from children as young as 5 or 6 too many old age pensioners. I can imagine there is something in the tale to suit all ages. My own children (some more skeptical about coming than others) all loved it!

‘Starlight Express’ is currently playing at Venue Cymru from September 18^th-29^th. Tickets from £18. Box Office: 01492 872000 www.venuecymru.co.uk

Something I didn't anticipate at the theatre!

I took some of the older children to the theatre tonight to watch 'Starlight Express'.
It wasn't really 'my thing' but I feel it is very important to go watch shows live.
I cannot believe how much I enjoyed watching 25 adults zoom around a stage on roller skates pretending to be toy trains!
Infront of me were a couple, not much older than me, and inbetween them, their teenage daughter, who had learning difficulties. They clearly loved her and it was so enderring to watch her cuddle and hug them. At first she was very antimated and enjoyed the show, but as it wore on, it was obvious that it was becoming harder to keep her occupied. As the show was nearing the end something startled her and she screamed. Unable to calm her down quickly, her parents took her out.
We all know what it is like to take small children to something and to keep them occupied and quiet, but I was really struck, just how much courage it must have taken for this couple to bring their child.
I some times sit on tender hooks with my own children not knowing how they will react, how much more so must this couple have felt, with the upredicablity of their daughters behaviour? 
I felt deeply saddened that they had to leave the show.
I have never had a child with special needs. The nearest I have come to this was working for a period of time in a lovely little school on the Wirral, which sadly, thanks mainly to Baroness Warnock's report, is now no longer functioning. I remember clearly taking the children out shopping. I was a student and had no children of my own. It was nerve wracking. The headmaster gave me a little boy that was terrified of electric doors and another who hated umberellas.
Bear in mind we went SHOPPING and it was RAINING.
He did it on purpose, so I would never judge the parents for rarely having the courage to take them out. 
I never did.
My own children really enjoyed the performance. I left, with perhaps a new appreciation of how fortunate I am, to never have to be placed in that kind of situation, as well as a new respect for the courage and tenacity her parents showed.

Just 3 days - Joshua James Beavan

Today we have taken time off work and gone out to remember our son.

He died today, 9 years ago, at exactly 11.25am.

Sweet dreams little man.

Heavily pregnant with Joshua

Just born 1.25am 16th September

With my wonderful midwife and friend Anne Hughes

Daddy and Mummy having a quick cuddle before he is whisked away to special care.

Our beautiful little boy having a rest after being born.

Packed up and ready to travel to Alderhey Children's Hospital.

Leaving with the paramedics.

In my new home K2 ward, in Liverpool

Feeding Joshua

Taking hand and foot prints-he wasn't loving this!

Being allowed to cuddle him all night long!

His first and last bath on his last night.

What a cutey

Our first and last family photo with Joshua just before he died

Joshua's Goodbye.

The ipod touch, iphone, internet and my hate for technology!

Martha on holiday-with the phone of course!

It has to be said I have had my suspicions.
Why does my 16 year old lad, who has to be nagged to death to go to bed, spasmodically from 10.30-11.30pm each night suddenly develop such a love for his sleep he rushes to get ready at 10 pm?
I did some investigating.
It wasn't rocket science.
He has a new ipod touch.
I work with the internet on till 1am at least every night.
Have you done the maths yet?
His twitter's last statement was 12.57 am.
Busted or what!
Maybe he will read this before he gets home, giving him ample time for some elaborate explanation, maybe not.
I think the girls are more subversive and subtle about what they post and when. Maybe.........

I have an iphone. It took me two years to save for it, so I could buy it outright and not be stung for huge monthly charges (gotta love Martin Lewis's site!)
It has certainly revolutionised my life and I can now manage my time better, as the charity is run through facebook and this can be updated and emails replied to whilst I sit waiting for endless activities to cease each night.
It took me a while to master facebook, the charity has a twitter account that I just cannot understand, the  only games I have on it are Dora the Explorer for when the 6 year old gets bored, however I have developed a love for Instagram and other's photographs.

Way back in the dark ages when I was a child (or so my children appear to think) the only way to contact my best friend was to persuade my mother I HAD to speak to her about some pressing homework assignment and ring her on the very public house dial up phone in the hallway with my mother hovering in the kitchen 'cleaning'. After 5 or so minutes I was told to put it down. We did try to yogurt-pots-and-string communication from our bedrooms but the distance was too far and we failed miserably. If I had the technology my children have I am sure I would have done the same as them, apart from the fact my mother would have switched the internet off!!!

It is an amazing spectacle in the recent holidays, you can shout and shout people to come and help for ages and get really cross, OR you can simply switch off the internet and by some miracle within roughly three minutes they all appear mournfully asking why the internet doesn't work suddenly!

As part of my Masters we will look more deeply at Children and Technology as well as the influences of consumerism on children. I cannot wait. another chance to leap onto my soap box! It is good to be able to keep in touch with all the children easily by phone (apart from the fact that the majority of the time they cannot phone because they have used their credit or their phones mysteriously have no signal when I try to find out where they are!) however by and large I do not like such gadgets for my teenagers. They are a complete distraction to any form of work and study (son had all his taken off him from his G.C.S.E mocks in January until his exams had finished in June!-so he would revise!) and unless you are a very disciplined teenager, they are addictive . I do feel, however that neither do I wish to isolate them from the same technology that everyone else has, therefore some rules over the years have evolved.

• No TV's or laptops in bedrooms.
• No phones at mealtimes.
• If we are watching a family film, we are watching it, not on phones.
• Misuse means technology is taken off you at bedtimes!
• Great misuse means technology is taken off you for a period of time altogether.
• No mobiles until they need one (around year 7/8/9) and then a cheap one!
• No laptop until they are 18 (until then they use ours)
• No facebook until 16 (mainly due to what I have to deal with in school)
• Facebook / twitter etc has to have us added to supervise at times.

These may appear lenient to some of you, and too harsh to others, but this is what works for us, and keeps technology at a purposeful arms length. Maybe when I have completed my modules and read endless research papers my views will have changed?

Hi Ho Hi Ho it's back to work and University I go!

A subversive picture of me taken by one of my students (ahem Coral!)

It has often been said 'I must be mad'.
Most times I laugh it off, this time however I actually do believe it.
Back to University!
And work
And the expanding charity
And the two huge projects I am finishing
AND THE CHILDREN
And everything else.........

I was thrilled after precisely one week of unemployment to be offered a job.
I resigned from my last one, with nothing in the pipe line, which was quite a leap of faith, but one that had to be done. I wasn't happy and life is simply too short to waste so much time and energy on something that is not for you, and this most defiantly, was NOT!

Then after the relief came the guilt.
How on earth are we going to make ends meet.
Our budget stretches a multitude of ways, and we make it meet endless things but there's a limit, and without me working, we were well over the limit, without, that is cutting all the extras (the kids activities mainly).
Also, although I loved the long days with just me and the twins, I did feel guilty at Simon having to work every day ,I couldn't just sit there and enjoy myself knowing how hard he works, so I spent the time manically tidying and organising things so I could in some way justify my time at home.
Much as it pains me to admit it , I am not 'mother earth'. Try as I might to appear this way, inside, I like to work. Ouch, I have admitted it. The working mother's dilemma. I enjoy my job (well, until the last one that is!) and I actually think I am a better mother and person for going out to work (part time).

So when the phone went as I was walking around the zoo, sad as I was to think of leaving my babies for a whole two days, I was also over the moon as well, as I am back doing one of the jobs I most enjoy, the Introduction to Teaching Assistants on the community. Susie has kindly offered to take her day off work on a Monday to have the babies and they will return on Fridays to our wonderful childminder, Lizzy. We have to sit down and work out who drops off who and when like a military operation and colour code this on our phones so we all know where we are going, but now it's all planned and nearly ready to roll again.

In an extreme moment of complete madness over the summer, I signed up for my Master's Degree in Early Childhood. I was quite amazed to be accepted. It was a hard choice, I would have loved to do the fine art but would have had to lock myself in the study for three years to complete the work, I really was very interested in Religion and the modern world, but I could not use this to further my career, where as I lecture in Childcare and early years/child development so this was the most logical choice.

27 years after leaving Chester University, I returned on Saturday morning to enrol, or so I thought. I was treated to not just enrolment but a whole spectrum of how to study at master's level as well as packed off on an hour long study/research task with another group of students. Talk about throwing you in the deep end. It was really enjoyable to have to use my brain again and I was totally absorbed, until I was brought down to earth and given the booklist for the first module. If God could create another 12 hours in every day, I think I would just about be okay, as it stands, it's debatable!

So there we are.
I may not be able to write my blog quite as much, I am sure there will be a few more cobwebs appearing in the house, and some of my projects will have to further go on hold, but I am determined to somehow work it all into our lives.

To be continued.................

Grandmas had enough!

As I exited the Debenhams lift, Anya holding my hand and walking beautifully, Caleb howling in the double buggy because he wants to get out like Anya, but as yet cannot walk, I was greeted with those words.
It has been a while since anyone has referrred to me as the twins 'Grandma', maybe I look particulary old and tired this week?
So I took a deep breath, and decided I was ready to, this time enlighten at least two people.
I turned and looked over my shoulder, then looked at them.
'Oh me' I smiled, 'I am a grandma, but not too these two, but to my 24 year old daughter's little girl. These are my twins and my 10th and 11th children. They are lovely, I haven't had enough, but my son has, he's tired and needs to have his nap'.
Smiled again at them both opened mouthed.
'Bye'.
I was very polite.
I do wish people would not make such sweeping assuptions, but then I also know I have been guilty of this too, we all are.
I used to ask people who had one child if they were going to have more.
That is untill I had my one child, an ectopic pregnancy, a miscarriage and fertility issues then I saw what a painful question that was.
I used to wonder why some people had such big age gaps between their children, till I lost a baby.
Now, I try hard not to assume an older person is 'Granny' or likewise a very young girl is 'sister'.
I hope those two nice ladies may also do the same.

Happy Birthday, or is it?

And so the week I have such a love/hate relationship with has commenced once again.

It is the week that 9 years ago, our 8th son was born, but also died.

It is the week, that nine years on is still etched in my mind, every second of every day of my son's life.

For that I am both glad and sad.

Everyone who has lost a baby, knows the anticipation of the week is often far worse than the days.

I think after nine years, we are so very busy I don't have the anticipation anymore, but it tends to hit me like a brick the night before his birthday and the feelings linger on until after he was cremated.

When your baby dies, that is not it, there is no closure. You live on in a world where they should have been.

Every family photo, is not a complete representation of your family, because your child is missing, every family event caries with it a twinge of sadness because there is someone not present there to make it complete. I felt this acutely in June at Abie's wedding where my other son's were ushers, Joshua should have been standing there as well.

My brain is often in battle.The fight is to eradicate the 'should have, could have, would haves', and replace them with less negative terminology. Sometimes it works, and sometimes I fall into the patterns again, often at times where I feel he needed to be there, the celebrations and events times.

So how do you celebrate a birthday without the birthday boy? It is a hard one.

We celebrate because we want to remember him and the little life he had, because he will always be a part of our family, no matter what anyone else says, and because it is one of the very few little gestures we can still do for him.

Is it happy?

Not really.

But it is meaningful and the little ones love it each year.

How do you explain to a 6 year old where her brother is, what he was like and why he died? 

I fight against the feelings that no 6 year old should really have to have this conversation vs feelings that she needs to know she had a brother that everyone else can remember.

 Caleb looks very like Joshua. I am grateful for this. I can, in some small way see perhaps a little of the boy he would have grown into. Caleb is not Joshua, he is himself, an adorable, much loved little boy who shares, as his middle name , his big brothers.

And so each year we buy balloons, from the same shop, they have long since stopped asking why we buy so many once a year. We go to the beach and we release them, we light the same scented candles around the house that we had when we brought Joshua home with us for a few days before his final goodbyes and we have a birthday cake. We but new decorations for his stone and garden and make him cards and little gifts.

This is how we cope with loosing our baby.

It is not the way others cope, but everyone is entitled to do it their way.

The grief process has no wrongs nor rights, and no one has the authority to dictate what we should or should not do, especially those who have (fortunately) not walked our path.

Some one once said we belong to a club, the only club no one wants to join. The dead baby club.

Membership is automatic, unavoidable, sudden, shocking, painful, all consuming, and harsh. That only goes a little to describing it. Open heart surgery without the anaesthetic perhaps goes a small way to describing the absolute physical pain you feel.

So you see, this birthday brings with it the whole spectrum of feelings once again. You want to remember yet you don't want all those emotions brought back.

A birthday, thankfully unlike all the others.

Happy Birthday sweetheart!

In Loving Memory of Joshua

~In Loving Memory of Joshua~

As I gaze down at your beautiful face, I see you are no longer there,
Someday when I am old
and someone asks me if I am looking forward to heaven,

I’ll say: “I’m ready to meet Jesus
but there’s someone else I want to see too.”

 I’ll say: “It’s been thirty or forty years since I’ve seen him
 and the time we spent together was all too brief
 -a few short days, that's all,
 and he was so delicate.
 He spent most of that time trying to breathe.
 I never had the chance to really find out
 who he was or what he was like,
 what he could have done,
 who he could have been.

 “But he was my child
 -he will never offend me, hurt me, upset me,
 he will never know suffering or pain,
 the days of his life were numbered
 and each one was filled with endless love

My joy!
Flesh of my flesh, my own,
a gift of eternal innocence
and I love him
with limitless love.

“My other children grew up and grew older with me
but this one -the one I’m longing to see
stayed the same through the years
his face fixed in my memory
like a faded snapshot,
its corners worn,
from too much handling.”

Through the years,
the good and bad times,
I’ve dreamt of that distant reunion
and imagined the moment
I could look him in the eyes and say:
“Darling, your mother’s missed you so very much,
but now we’ll never be apart again.”

 

Carole Gift Page

With additions by Fiona Beavan

The hedgehog

Luke was on the paper round last night.

As he came to the roundabout he saw a family of hedgehogs crossing the road. 

Whoosh a car came and squashed the first one, then another car came and the second one succumbed to the wheels, so what does my son do, with no regard to his safety, runs into the road and waves his arms about to stop the third car running over the baby hedgehog.

It was a police car!

Thankfully the officers inside took kindly to my son flying into the road.

So he came home with the baby hedgehog in his arms.

Not a fan of animals, I did warm to the poor little thing.

The R.S.P.C. helpline was phoned and on the advice of them we gave him some water and warmed him up. The children named him 'Harry' and made him a little house.

Given hedgehogs are flee ridden, I had to persuade them to finally say their goodbyes to Harry and place him outside, under the wooden wendy house where he would be a little protected.

The children all ran out in the garden this morning, but Harry was gone, he was still absent when they came home from school, and when Susie came home from work, armed with a cardboard box for his home.

So the cardboard box is there, filled with newspaper, water and food, waiting for Harry to re appear.

I wonder if he will?

The Dentist and the Maternity appointment

A somewhat surreal experience happened today.
I walked into the local hospital, and PAST all the ladies waiting to see the consultant as part of their maternity check ups.
I didn't sign in, not join the usual hour long wait.
I didn't have a bump, bring a urine sample or endless extra pages of notes or compare my 'bump' to everyone else's.
Even the receptionists looked shocked.
They know me well!
Instead I walked past with Bella, and down the stairs to her Orthodontic appointment instead.
Weird!
Half of me wanted to go upstairs and say 'hello' to all the familiar midwives, nurses and my wonderfully patient consultant. But it was heaving, so I didn't.
Instead I watched paste be mixed, impressions be made, and talked after brace care.
We walked out, my beautiful 16 year old and me, not chatting excitedly about the forthcoming baby, but rather about the much longed for , forthcoming brace removal!
Was I upset about this shift?
Surprisingly no.
My life is shifting and changing.
The bulk of my large family will, in a few years all be adults.
I still have my little ones for quite a while, and I am beginning to embrace these changes.
Perhaps today was a 'first' of many more to come?

The Fight

It was Mair’s second day at her new school.

She wanted to play with the boys! They don’t hold much fear for her, given all her older siblings. She could keep up well with them, in fact she said they were quite cross how fast she could run.

The play then got boisterous, or so she related back to me.

‘They started to scratch me and pull my hair and then some of them punched me.’

‘Oh my goodness Mair, did you report them to the teacher?’ I said in horror.

‘Well I punched them back first, Mum and then I did!”.

‘Oh what did they say? Did you get into trouble?”.

‘Well Mum’, Mair said with her hands on her hips. ’They had to stand on the red line.’

‘What about you?’ I said.

‘She only told me off, cause I couldn’t punch that hard’.

So, what to say to my feisty indignant 6 year old?

25 years ago, when I first started on the journey of motherhood, I advocated non violence, and told my first child to turn the other cheek.

She did, until the night I was bathing her and I distinctly saw a full set of teeth marks in her arm.

When interrogated she told me Jodie’s teeth had somehow found their way there. On closer questioning it transpired Jodie had been systematically bullying her for a while.

So I changed tactic. The teacher just dismissed the incidents so intervention was called for and Abigail was told in no uncertain terms, whilst we did not agree with fighting, the next time this child came near her, to give her one hell of a kick with her shoes (Dr Martins!).

She did.

Jodie never went near her again!

The teacher called me in and was fairy disgusted that I advocated it, and punished Abigail. We accepted the punishment as schools cannot be seen to be promoting this, however secretly we discussed the incident and agreed that sometimes the end justified the means.

Having watched another of our children undergo years of bullying before they stood up for themselves I am afraid my views have changed.

I digress.

I congratulated Mair for sticking up for herself and not letting them just walk over her. I then explained that it was wrong to hit people but if she was doing it too defend herself then we felt this was okay. I tried to explain that if she chose to hit back, then unfortunately the school would punish her, so she would have to think carefully about her actions.

It is so hard to watch your child be victimised by another child, or group of children. It is equally hard to watch pupils endure this low level of violence as well. I am glad my children can stick up for themselves. It is a hard line to sometimes know what to say.

I must admit that I did smile at the image of my tiny little knobbly kneed girl give these boys a punch!