school

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#57: Become a charity trustee

Well this one panned out slightly differently from my intentions 3 months ago, but I am delighted with the result nonetheless. For as of Friday, I am not a charity trustee, but a school governor. Which I believe is the same kind of responsibility, but in a different setting. The election results are just in, and I am to be a parent governor of the primary school where my 3 children attend.

(And just in case any school parents are reading this: please don’t imagine that I only applied to tick off a challenge on the blog! Quite the reverse in fact – I put it on the list because it is something I really want to do, and have too long dithered over. I am much looking forward to learning more about the running of school, and being involved in this way.)

Hurrah!

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#50: Do something unique and special with each of my children (part 2)

The eldest had a day off school this week. It is always a hard one to call, she had seemed peaky, but by 9.30 it was hard to see there was very much wrong.

But in any case, it presented a rare opportunity for some one to one time with her. And she could not believe her luck when I suggested we do painting together, at an easel, outside, so that we could copy what we saw in the garden. I envisaged the two of us, passing a happy morning, companionably dunking our brushes, chatting of this and that, assessing the light on the branches… but of course she is 5. What actually happened was that I abandoned my own craft to sit next to her, advising on how to dunk the brush in water without then streaking the whole canvas with too-runny paint. But that was nice too.
painting cakey
Regarding subject matter, I had envisaged replicating the cherry blossom, the willow tree opposite, a cloud bespeckled sky, that kind of thing. Caitlin chose to immortalise the trampoline. Ah well. Who is to say what is art, after all? Perhaps it is indeed this:
caitlin's art
I suppose we will have to put it on the wall now. Heavens.

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#41: Strike up conversation with a stranger in a pub

I am not sure if this counts, because I did it at an event that was designed for getting to know people… but it might have to do, because the days are passing by too fast!

We went to a ‘meet your fellow Twinners’ evening in the local pub (which several have pointed out sounds ominously like some sort of swinging event, but I can assure you it is nothing of the sort). It involves a bus load of folk from our village travelling half way down France to spend 3 nights with some random French people, on a kind of whole family French Exchange type arrangement. I have signed my family up for this extravaganza over Easter weekend.

The pub night was the preamble, and so I was able to strike up chat with the founder members of village twinning; the current organisers of village twinning, and with 4 (count ‘em) other parents of school age children who are also up for French high jinx. And I don’t think I gave myself away as too much of a buffoon, but it is early days – plenty of time for that in a few weeks when we are all bolting red wine and enjoying a crepe!

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#29: Volunteer at school

This was a big one for me, because I have long suspected that I am not good with children other than my own.  (In fact perhaps not even with my own!  But they are rather stuck with it.)

My morning routine is still sufficiently insane that by the time I get to school I am heartily relieved to offload my own 3 children – so acquiring 27 more at that point is really about the last thing on my mind.

But for the sake of the 100 things, I made an offer to school a couple of weeks ago, and thus was booked to assist in Class R on a Thursday morning.  ‘Sit in a quiet room and help the children change their books’ she had said.  It sounded like a manageable brief.

But argh!!  I had not factored in World Book Day.  I arrived with my troops (late, chaotically, and in somewhat tenuous costumes – one bear, one Tinkerbell, and one black cat); to find the playground swarming with excitable pirates, Rapunzels, Snow Whites, witches, dinosaurs, crocodiles, tigers and the occasional uniformed child whose parent had clearly forgotten.  It would, the class teacher admitted apologetically, be something of an unusual day.  She offered me the option of starting my help sessions next week instead, but a little face crumpled beneath the bear head, and I realised I would have to see it through.  If only I’d come in costume myself!  Dammit.

The classes were all mixed up; the register was conducted by book character names, so I hadn’t the least idea who most of the children were. But they were all quite charming, and well behaved, and most excited to have me there, which was gratifying.  Before many minutes had passed I was supervising the creation of oil pastel-crayon self-portraits, drawn in a mirror frame, (inspired by the tale of Snow White).  The children were to study every detail of their own visage and copy it exactly as they saw it, not as they imagined it to be.  They were to reproduce their actual skin colour, actual eye shape, and any odd features that might be going on, on account of their costumes. 

And so they began faithfully replicating.  Nostrils were writ large and pig-like.  Eye lashes were lustrous.  Spiderman was cursing his complicatedly webbed face.  One girl was carefully selecting the right shade of red for a big zit on her chin.  Kids with glasses, or scars, or different pigmentation were all happily studying themselves and copying from life without self-consciousness. It was a delight!  Nobody cried, nobody wet themselves, nobody hit me.  Things have moved on immeasurably since I last helped out at preschool!

I was promoted to the glitter table, where the mirror frames were embellished.  2 glue sticks, 8 children, and no fighting!  School must be operating in some sort of magical parallel dimension; this would be an unimaginable scene in my house. 

Glittering concluded; my characters trooped off to study The Enormous Turnip.  A fresh assortment came in, and I settled to hear Snow White again.  More mirrors, more pastels, more glitter.  When break time came I slunk off.  But it was a very worthwhile morning, and I shall have no qualms about going back next week.  Changing their books should be easy now!