Self Reflection

It does make life easier if you know who you are and what you are capable of. Both the children have up until now always attended schools where they were asked to reflect on their own work and as a consequence to come up with ways to better themselves. Culminating in handwritten pearls of wisdom that I will treasure forever.

Like the one the now 12yo wrote in his first year at his school in Switzerland. 'I will try and concentrate more in class and not to day dream so much. In order to do that I will stop sucking my thumb.' Still very much a work in progress of course. Just like the next one: 'I will try to participate in whole class discussions, even if I don't find the subject very interesting.'
Flicking through his folder the other day I came across a sheet he apparently had been asked to fill in just after he toured me around on the annual 'show-your-parents-what-you-have-done-in-school-so-far-this-year-day'. 'I think it was challenging to share the 'writing wall' with my mum, because she asked a lot of questions which were hard to answer.' Mmm, I can be a bit strict, especially when it comes to my children's spelling, or creative writing, as I am a bit of a language freak myself. My son must have really felt it that day.
My son's observations might by the way also explain my daughter's reluctance to show me any of her homework sheets. These days, when she can't stall me any longer, she'll just wave her work in front of my face. That way, I can't possibly read any of her writing. But even so, she has the habit of warning me that she is going 'to correct her work in school'. In other words: bugger off mum!
Let's see what she had to say about her work and attitude in class, when asked by her former international school teachers. 'I am proud of my work, because I put loads of detail', she has written down. And also: 'I am a thinker as I managed to answer all of the maths questions'. But also: 'I showed respect for my friend's religion'. I really like that.
She also showed some good insights in her weaker points. 'I could have tried to focus a bit more', she has written down at some point. She also promised various teachers to: 'listen to instructions the first time' and 'to hand in my homework more regularly'.
In the absence of reflection sheets in their new schools, we could may be reflect a little bit more at home. I for one should have written down: 'I will try and really listen to my children when they tell me very long stories about a goal they scored two years ago in some playground football match, or describe minute to minute a film that we watched together not even an week ago'. Or: 'I will play more board games with the children, even though I really, really want to lie down on the sofa and read my book.'
Who knows, it might be very therapeutic to put my goals in writing and keep them in a special folder. That way I could at least try to change some of my less attractive behaviours. Regularly updating those goals would ensure that I don't have to focus on the same shortcomings all the time. And may be, but only if I try very hard, I could reach that comfortable place, my 10yo seems to be in. These days she apparently completely accepts who she is, all flaws included.
At least that is how I interpret the lines she wrote down in her new Dutch spelling book. When asked to tick one of the two following boxes: 1. 'I do not understand this spelling rule and would like to practise it some more, or 2. 'I completely understand this spelling rule and I feel confident using it', my daughter has boldly ticked the second box. But then she added -  in barely legible, miniscule writing: 'I do forget to use it though'.

A brand new year: Yay!

If how you spend the second day in January is a reference of what to expect the rest of the year, we're in for a very (very!) grumpy 2014. A year in which we'll struggle to get out of bed, we'll struggle to do any grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, reading, or work, to have a single interesting conversation, to fulfil any potential, or even to be awake for more than three hours at a time.

Seldom have the 10 and 12yo been so devoid of all energy as this morning. The fact that I set my alarm for 8.30, but nonetheless woke up at 11.15 surely doesn't help matters. By the time I make it downstairs, the children have been playing minecraft on the computer for roughly 2 hours, 23 minutes and 41 seconds. They haven't made themselves any breakfast, haven't changed out of their pyjamas and certainly don't intend to so for the rest of the day.
As soon as I order them to make us a cup of tea, they start arguing. The 12yo accusing the 10yo of not answering when he asked her a simple question. The 10yo adamant that she hasn't heard her brother asking her something and so on and so forth. Within minutes they're both crying, which in the case of the 12yo is highly unusual these days.
Calm is temporarily  restored when I declare this day a pyjama-day and let the children stuff themselves with white toast, butter and chocolate sprinkles. Within minutes they're happily playing on the computer again. Which is great, because it means I can check all the social media sites that I am addicted to without any interruption whatsoever.
It isn't until it's almost lunchtime that I start to feel slightly restless and - dare I say it - guilty about not doing anything useful now that we have all the time in the world. So I order the 12yo to tidy his room and the 10yo to tidy her craft cupboard. Both children just sit and glare at me. But I stick to my guns this time. While the 12yo is stomping upstairs, probably sneaking his i-pod and phone with him, I find myself  'helping' the 10yo downstairs with the said cupboard.
We (well no, I) decide to take everything out and look at each item to see whether she'll want to keep it and if so, where she is going to keep it. We find: three feathers, six sticks varying in length, the Greek alphabet that my daughter wrote down several months ago, a piece of sandpaper, a variety of hair bobbles, several tattoo designs, some rock hard paint brushes and mostly empty paint bottles, three bowls filled with pieces of candle wax that she saved up and a plastic tub containing 'home-made' perfume. None of which she is ready to part with. To kid ourselves that we're making  progress, we're redistributing the priced possessions around the house, leaving the cupboard that we originally started working on, looking immaculate. Brilliant.
When I finally make it to the top floor around four in the afternoon, I find that the 12yo has transferred every item lying around on his bedroom floor to the laundry basket, just outside his room. I am too tired to argue with him, so instead, I just stuff everything into the washing machine.
Time for a long and well deserved shower. I decide that I can't be bothered to properly dry my hair, so instead I wait for an hour and a half, in which I check the aforementioned social media sites again, until I deem my hair dry enough to make my way to the supermarket.
There, it turns out, that my timing is awful. Not only is the supermarket heaving and are most of the necessities sold out, the place is filled with people that obviously went to work today and therefore have spend their time well, or at least much better than I did.
At least the guilt I feel now makes me hurry home, where I unpack the groceries, unload both the washing machine and the dishwasher in record time and start making some dinner. Not five minutes later  Mr. S. comes home from work. In a pathetic bid to account for my day I show him the tidied cupboard and well stocked fridge. He isn't fooled one bit (may be the still not quite dry hair gives me away, or the fact that the children are still in pyjamas glued to various screens, who knows), but to his credit he doesn't say anything.
That night we watch telly till way past our bedtime, allow ourselves chocolate as well as crisps and even some wine, although not even 24 hours earlier we did commit ourselves to a healthier lifestyle.
It isn't till the next morning that I know exactly what needs to be done. I will cook a nice meal tonight and open a bottle of champagne. We will toast the New Year once again and make a fresh start on the 4th of January. This way, if we fail again, we'll just need to buy some more champagne and repeat the process on a regular basis. At some point we'll surely get our tails in gear again. (And if we don't we'll always have champagne...)