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Tuesday 11 October 2016

WE ARE MOVING!

We've moved this blog, to here.  Sorry Blogger but Wordpress is better.  It's over. Thanks for everything, it's not you it's me. x


Dawn of the Teenage


https://dawnoftheteenage.com/

Tuesday 27 September 2016

We so ruled in the 80's & still do now

I spent this weekend with five mates I was a secondary school with in the 80's, so I've known them for over 25 years.  A couple I lost touch with for a decade, but here we all are lounging on sofa's and drinking fizz after driving to a remote cottage, from all over the UK.  We were all once 13/14 the same age the teenager is now; will he be catching up with his now-school mates in 2034 I wonder?

We've all got children, all work, have partners/husbands.  One had a baby when she was 19 after a one night-stand, one is getting divorced and ones Mum died recently, another talked of her Dad's sudden death.  Big heavy stuff.  I sat with two of them outside with a coffee, holding the hand of one as she talked about the last few days of her Mum's life.  Her lovely Mum who welcomed us in their house with a big smile, always. We talked about one husband who could not 'get it up', some admitted it had been a year or two since that was even an option. We talked about the NHS, Hilary Clinton, chin-hair and if cous-cous was overrated.

We talked about our jobs; a specialist heart nurse, a corporate lawyer, one has a PHD in social care, another a well-respected counsellor.  Stuff that keeps the world go round, that people need.  It astounds me who we have all grown to be and who we are - totally yey us!  We told our stories, shared our experiences, our worries and hopes.  We pissed ourselves laughing watching The Full Monty, we paused the TV watching the X-Factor trying to look at Dermot's package.  We burped and farted in complete abandoned glory.  We looked up old boyfriends on Facebook, we talked about our extended families and it was great to know that at least three of them would still shag my older brother!

Some the mates my son has now will be his mates for decades, others he will find hard to even remember.  Which are which I couldn't tell you from the snippets of their character I have seen so far. Will be the one who carried his bike home after my son felt off and hurt his leg?  Or will it be someone he's not even met yet?  I hope he's a good mate, now and in the future.

I started to cry on the way home, one of them had sent us all a message saying she felt 'centred, confident and brave after a weekend with us all' and I could not have put it better myself.

Hey teachers, cool your boots!

We are only a couple of weeks into year 10 and the 'bug bad wolf' GSCE talk is now tedious according to the teenager.  He was enjoying school but he's ad the big bad wolf talk so many times it's flipped him in the opposite direction.  He's been told, according to him, at least 1,000 times that:-

GCSE's are THE most important thing in life - they have so much to learn is so little time - their whole life depends on GCSE's.

Literally, every lesson, GCSE's tourettes non-stop.

They couldn't lay it on any thicker and then some.  And do you know what?  He gets it and so do his mates, since when did banging on at a teenager about something have any effect?  If I get asked more than once to do something (which doesn't happen often because I'm amazeballs) I feel like flicking the finger and not doing it.

So teachers cool you boots, they are on it, they know.  It's been 2.5 weeks enough already.  Stop the 'pressure talk' and concentrate on the teaching and less of the lecturing.

Tuesday 20 September 2016

Teenagers and Toddlers - not that different

I've had two toddlers and now have one teenager, the other four years off becoming one; I'll be a total expert by then of course!  I was having a not so pleasant discussion with the teenager the other day about why he couldn't stay out when it was dark at 9pm.  The argument hinged on my unfairness and my lack of trust.  Of course I explained that it was more about that, he had no lights on his bike and that he would have to cycle across a field in the dark, as well as cycle on some busy roads.  He just couldn't and did not want to see reason and had to have the last word, and I mean the very, very last word.  Just like when a toddler has an epic tantrum about, oh I don't know, everything.  
No matter what you do or say they are still inconsolable, feet slamming on the floor and fat frustrated tears flowing, over toast cut into squares and not triangles or an episode Pingu ending.  Even as I was walking downstairs the teen was still talking to me about it, shouty-mumbling to be precise.  I had to leave him to it, there would be no end to the conversation if we had stayed in the same room.  I was out of order - FACT.    The best advice I was given when my two were toddlers, was to ignore the tantrum, make sure they were safe, but to just ignore it.  Giving the tantrum attention is like pouring petrol on a fire.  So I poured no more petrol on to the teen fire and it eventually went out.

LOL

I work from home doing various things to earn a living.  Now and again I find a note from the children in my office.  Here's the latest one, done by the teen whilst he was doing some homework on stakeholders for his business studies GSCE.  I concur LOL.

Shrieking in the park

I saw an old school Mum-friend recently; she'd been in the USA for three years.  I was with my teen in the local park when I bumped into her.  Some of the enthusiasm Americans are known for had certainly rubbed off on her; she shrieked like she was at a ball game when she saw us; "Oh my gosh, your son, he's just gorgeous, those eyes, I can't believe how much he has grown, he’s so tall, 14 wow amazing" and on and on she went, so much so my teen wandered off looking acutely embarrassed and puzzled.  Of course I think he’s as handsome as they come, I’m his mother it’s a given.  But as much as I felt that her words and expression were too over the top and frankly inappropriate, there was a side of me that felt chuffed by what she had said.  Something akin to those pedigree dog owners at Crufts, who parade their perfectly preened dogs around the ring in front of the judges. (For the record he'd be a Golden Retriever with a touch Red Setter) Not that I plan on putting him on a lead and trotting him through town!   I think yes, I’ve done a good job over the past 14 years or so, high and low points but mostly OK.  And why not have a random person shriek like a loon in public about him from time to time.

Monday 19 September 2016

Dyslexia - we don't do that face, ever

If you ever want an afternoon where you wish to depress yourself into a black hole of grimness just Google 'dyslexia'  You will see that there are two distinct categories into which you could fall if you are dyslexic; the very slim chance of being like total genius mega-bucks Richard Branson or most likely a serial prison visitor for petty-crime and drugs. Seriously, go do it now.  The teenager is dyslexic, picked up at primary school in Y3 by a great teacher, he's now just started Y10.  Like the common cold there is a wide and varied scale of how this affects people, with my teen it's spelling and writing, so much so he gets a reader and scribe in most of his exams.  The proof is in the pudding as he has done test with no help and he's not even finished the paper and his result was inline with bedrock, with help and he's up in the clouds with a finished paper.  Just proves he knows what he wants and needs to say, his brain and hand just don't work well together.

But we don't do that face, the sort of woeful face, with sad eyes and a down-turned mouth, which is what a lot of the so call industry do that has sprung up to do with dyslexia do. Talk about a half full glass ethos.

I once went to a conference designed to help parents with dyslexic children and it was as it was full of misery-loves-company type people.   The endless talk of 'special schools' or 'not academic children' and 'lifelong issues faced' was enough to make me reach for a crack-pipe.  I left at lunchtime and went to Pret to have a brownie to cheer myself up.  Are there worse things a child could have?  You bet there are.  This down-trodden attitude is no good for anyone, least of all the child.  Yes it's an utter arse-ache at times and he gets thoroughly pissed off with it all.  It's fortunate he lives in 2016 with voice to text tech, iPhone voice memos, shit-hot teachers who email home Power Point presentations from lessons and quite frankly the list of stuff you can get your hands on to help is endless and free (he learnt to type for free for example).  You just need to get off your arse, investigate stuff and do what works for you. But never ever do 'that face' as if your world has ended.  Oh a never to go a dyslexia conference unless there is a Pret nearby. My teens glass is not only half full, but brimming over with fizzy pop.

Here is a great book on the subject with no self-pity crap anywhere to be seen The Dyslexia Advantage