The lyf so short

... and wonder where it has disappeared: The author suddenly got cold feet and wanted me to delete the entry. So I turned it invisible. Maybe he'll change his mind. Or it'll stay invisible. At any rate, that's what happened!

Sore throat, no voice. It was bad earlier this year but this time it's worse; I actually can't talk at all, except in a painful whisper at worst need. This is not helpful when interacting with my kids, let alone with a whole class. So I'm at home.

This is awkward. There's a trip to the zoo planned on Thursday, and I currently doubt that I'll be well enough on Thursday to do that. (There's another teacher - my mentor - going, of course, but I'll feel bad either leaving him alone or forcing him to find a replacement on short notice!) We're also going on a class trip for three days next week, which means that my 5th graders are going to miss a lot of English lessons. And they NEED them. And now I'm sick on top of it all.

Meanwhile, the colleague who already forced three English classes (so it wasn't just me!) to rush through two units in order to catch up with his one class (which was somehow madly ahead -- I can only assumed that he "skipped" all the boring bits, like ordinal numbers, months and dates, reading the clock etc.) keeps ploughing on at speed. This is completely unnecessary - the book has 6 units, with Unit 6 being pretty much "just for fun". He's already halfway through Unit 5, so what is he going to do in May and June? Who knows. Probably start on the book for grade 6. :P Yesterday he announced that he'd write the second class test next week.

The problem is that all the 5th grades have to write the same tests. This is to ensure that we're all adhering to the same standards and to make their marks comparable. Now, as I said, he was already madly ahead for the last test, and the third English teacher (let's call her Colleague D.) and I had to rush our classes through The Simple Present, Do-Constructions, and Questions. Most of our students are struggling with one of these concepts, let alone three of them more less dropped upon them at once. Most of them are unable to tell a verb from a noun! Not just in English, but in their native German as well! So actually I would need more time to revise basic grammar, rather than less time to heap even more grammar on them! (Unit 5 covers the Present Progressive, and guess what? If the kids are already struggling with grammatical concepts that their native language shares with English - simple present and reversed word order in questions - they are NOT going to get along with a grammatical structure that is generally frowned upon in German and only appears in some disrespected dialects.)

The last test was already desastrous. We had to write it two weeks after - let's call him Colleague B. - 's class (which is why he wants to write the next one next week! the fuck!) just so we'd have (barely) enough time to at least explain and superficially practice negation and questions. This was completely unnecessary, incidentally, because last year's class test clearly shows that they'd only covered the Simple Present by this time, and Negation and Questions came in the next test. I really have no clue what Colleague B. was thinking, and neither does Colleague D. (And yes, we did tell him that our classes weren't up to that test, and yes, we told the head of department, but somehow he managed to ignore it all and push on ahead.)
Anyway, the test was desastrous.

It has to be admitted that my 5th graders are not the best of students. Most of them have next to no self-organisation skills (and we don't have the time to teach them >_>), and a lot of them are either easily distracted or happy to distract others. They will happily talk about whatever in the middle of your class, and when you call them out for it, they'll tell you that It Was Important. Yes, but even important private stuff has to wait until the break! I'm very sorry! -- The day after the exam, I actually exploded. There's a stupid rhyme we use in German when teaching the Simple Present - he, she, it: das S muss mit, meaning "he, she, it: you have to take the S along", referring to the -s added to verbs in (and ONLY in!) the 3rd person singular - and I must have used it about 20 times in the past three weeks. Then on that day, after revising how to conjugate verbs again, when I said he, she, it: das S muss mit, one student (who frequently chats about who-knows-what in class, and is always very blasé about it) said, "My MOM had to tell me that because YOU never did!"
I did, sweetheart, you just never listened. Which is a problem a lot of them have: They don't listen, and THEN they demand that I explain it again, and even WHILE I'm explaining it again, they occupy themselves with other things. Argh.

Nonetheless, grading their tests hurt. As a kid, I always thought that teachers must like handing out bad grades, but now, I know that a lot of teachers actively hate it. Even when it hits the "deserving" (in the sense of: kids that refuse to cooperate in class, kids who boss the other kids around, or kids who do everything except pay attention), it hurts. I have yet to meet a teacher in our teachers' lounge who'd say "Student L from grade XYZ has another fail grade! Boo yeah! Serves him right, the sucker!" - It's always "I've had to give Student L an F, and it's the second time, and I feel bad about it but what can I do when he refuses all offers I make?" We seem to see bad grades to our students, first and foremost, as a mark of our own failure because we somehow couldn't make that student understand (in some cases, couldn't even make that student try to learn). I am beginning to suspect that some students honestly can't be taught (and I'm not talking about kids with ADHD or dyslexia or the like! Many of those are genuinely trying!). There's no miraculous way of making them connect with the material and unlocking their hidden potential. At least, there isn't in a classroom scenario. Maybe there is in one-on-one coaching. (Which our school actually offers - well, it offers coaching in small groups - but of course the kids who need it most rarely take the offer.)

But even the kids who do try hard and who did pay attention didn't get above a C in this test (except for one, who just barely managed to get a B). So it genuinely was Too Much. And I refuse to push on in this manner. We'll see what comes out of that.

-- As it turns out, it was good that I was at home, because Felix behaved so aggressively during gym class that the school called me and asked me to take him home. Hurrah. My child has officially been suspended from school. It will be great fun to discuss the matter with him through my inflamed throat. Not. I expect we shall have to write each other letters. This is the last step in a series of problems he's caused at his school; his teacher has both the patience of an angel and the experience of many years, but even she is starting to be at a loss.

It is planned (TM) that I'll start my "proper" training as a teacher this summer, which would mean a full-time schedule + one day in college, which would be tough at the best of times, but with Felix' volatility? I have no idea how this is supposed to work. Right now it seems more likely that I'll have to stop working altogether just to cover damage control.

It's a great day to feel like an all-around failure.

are happening. And as usual, I want to write about them all - and don't get around to doing it. This is a summary post of some of the exciting developments of the past weeks, which will either satisfy my sense of duty, or not. In the latter case, maybe I'll feel compelled to write more once I've started. In the former, at least I won't forget everything in a couple of weeks...

In no particular order:

- Felix' first year in school ended two weeks ago, and he turned seven on Wednesday. How time flies. School has been a mixed bag (mostly due to Felix, it has to be admitted) and I definitely should write more about it. For now, he is thrilled to have his first "real" summer holidays.

- Julian's Kindergarten is going through some difficulties. One of the teachers (as far as I can discern) is manipulating some people, bullying others and turning them against each other and (especially) against the lady who founded and still runs the Kindergarten. So the atmosphere has been... tense. Then a couple of the other teachers fell ill, including the manager - and her sub. To her surprise, the teacher who has been poisoning the mood was not declared sub-sub. Instead, that position was given to the only remaining full-time teacher (sensible enough, right?!), which ended with the disappointed teacher first calling in sick and then suggesting that she can resign at any time. (She can, at little personal risk. Germany is currently desperate for educators, so she can be pretty sure of finding a new job before the month is through.) The board of directors decided that this is actually exactly what they want (I tend to agree) but it hasn't made things calmer. Fortunately, the summer holidays have arrived for Kindergarten too. Only three weeks (instead of the six for school) but maybe things will have calmed down enough for a fresh start.

- I missed the last week of Kindergarten shenanigans anyway because we went, as usual, to the Drachenfest. It was tough. It was really really stressful. Our region is going through a bit of a drought along with temperatures of ~40°C and we're none of us equipped to deal with them, least of all while LARPing. The kids were cranky. Everyone was exhausted. You couldn't do anything before 9 pm when the frigging laser sun finally went down, and couldn't sleep longer than 5 am when our g*ddamn mother star rose again and turned the tents into furnaces. Ugh. UGH UGH UGH. Half of me keeps saying "OK, that's it, no more Drachenfest until the kids are old enough to do their own stuff". The other half goes "All RIGHT, and here's what I'm going to prepare for next year!"... XD

- My own foray into alleviating Germany's desperate search for educators is taking shape. A week before the holidays, I was invited to attend the get-to-know-the-school afternoon for the new 5th graders. Because I'm going to be an assistant homeroom teacher for a new fifth grade. Oops. Well, I was able to attend and meet "my" class. So that is definitely going to happen. I'm terrified. Also excited, but yeah, terrified. Homeroom - all classes, really, but homeroom in particular - is assigned for two years. This is going to be my reality for the next TWO YEARS. I can only hope I won't disappoint everyone (including myself). Today I got my first glimpse at the finalised schedule. I'll be teaching English to "my" class and a ninth grade, and geography to a different 5th grade. Then I'll be doing one hour of recess supervisions and one hour of revision supervision. ("My" school doesn't believe in homework, but from grade 7 onwards, they have one hour of revision each day where they get to complete assignments they didn't finish in class, or prepare stuff for upcoming classes). That completes my 14 hours of active duty (it's a part-time job, which, for the start, suits me perfectly well.)

- So I definitely hope the Kindergarten situation will calm down. And I also hope that Felix will manage to get along with attending the after-school activities his school offers. (German elementary school typically ends at 11:30 or 12:30, but they're offering supervision until 16:00. So far, we haven't needed this - and I think it was a good thing that Felix wasn't away for so long during his first year - but now we do. (Or do we? Jörg still hasn't returned to work, nor has he found alternative employment, but he will have to eventually.)

- And now it's well past midnight and I really need to sleep off my Drachenfest exhaustion, so this shall be all for now. Construction news may or may not follow some other day. Nighty night!

By the unfathomable algorithm that assigns the ~90 new kids to their teachers and classes, Felix was sorted into Raven class. This naturally amuses me a lot.

The meeting went well. I continue to be positively impressed, even if the teacher speaks a bit too emphatically slow for my tastes. (None of Felix' kindergarten teachers used or use a special "small children and fools" pitch. More's the pity, because one of the old ones had a voice like fingernails on a blackboard, and another spoke like a drill sergeant! So I guess there's worse things than emphatically slow. This teacher has a very warm and pleasant voice, at any rate.)

I also continue to be somewhat sad that the Flixster makes things a lot harder on himself than they need to be. I know that Felix starts to squirm and goof around and act absent-minded because he's embarrassed and anxious about doing something wrong, so he acts like he isn't interested at all, but of course that's exactly the sort of behaviour that leads to strangers thinking that he's a) trying to piss them off or b) on the spectrum (possibly both). But the teacher was a woman of great patience and equally great experience and cracked his shell pretty quickly by first showing him around the classroom and then challenging him to some reading and counting games. Since he likes to excel and feels comfortable about letters and numbers, that went well. (It's when he doesn't feel secure about something that his desire to be the best seriously gets in the way. Ah, that paralysing mixture of ambition and fear of failure, I know it so well!) Embarassing moment: When he made a mistake (not even a proper mistake, it was actually just a misunderstanding), he berated himself rather severely, and I expect the teacher now thinks that he's got that from us, the parents. Which is not true! The only thing he undoubtedly got from us is that dratted inner perfectionist! I keep telling him that it's alright to make mistakes and that mistakes help you to learn! Which the teacher duly told him as well, repeatedly. He acted as if it was a completely new idea. *sigh* Well, perhaps he needed to hear it from somebody else.
(When I suggested piano lessons or some other musical instrument to him, he said "No, I don't want to", and when I asked why, he said "Because I don't know how to do it!" Sweety, that's what lessons are about!)

At any rate, it is now established that Felix will probably start on the material for second grade in most fields. (First and second grade are in mixed classes and the material is adapted to different learning speeds anyway, so this will be very easy to do, logistically.) I had sort of hoped to avoid that because, because let's face it, emotionally Felix is more like only-just-five rather than almost-six, let alone seven like normal second-graders. But the teacher judges that he'd quickly be bored even by the more challenging first-grader material and it'd be unwise to hold him back. She's probably right. But the fact remains that he's already smaller than most kids his age, so when he habitually gets to work with kids who are actually older, it gets even harder to keep up. Physically and in terms of maturity! It's not his intellectual capacities I'm worried about. But at least his teacher is sympathetic - when I apologised for Felix' fidgeting and yawning at the end of the meeting, she just smiled sagely and said "We have to remember that he's still a very young child". Yes! That's something that's so easy to forget because he's so precocious sometimes, even for his doting parents and grandparents, and it was apparently impossible to grasp for the folks at his old kindergarten. So if this teacher can keep it in mind, that's worth a lot.

Next week, the whole class will assemble for the first time, and I'm glad he already knows his way around the room so maybe there'll be less need to play down his anxiety. Of course, I won't know! They'll meet without their parents present! TERRIFYING THOUGHT! My baby! My snowflake!

What went less well is that in the end, because Felix is still a very young child, he scuffled with his even younger brother and thus forgot to take along the notebook the teacher gave him to playfully work on his penmanship. Embarrassing, that. I hope she found it and keeps it until next week's get-together...

... man, I go on vacation for a week and the world goes completely mad. I expected some of it (but not this much!) and thus stayed away from the news in my happy little Alpine valley, but coming back and catching up isn't fun either when there's such a clusterfuck to catch up with. Boo.

But the holiday, on the whole, was nice! As nice as travelling by bus (= twice the time) and with a group of senior citizens (I know, I know, one day I will be like them and then I'll so regret my youthful arrogance) can be. Fortunately, aside from the journey and meals, it was more a family vacation with my parents, the mother-in-law and the kids (poor Jörg couldn't get off work and had to stay at home). To be honest, I hadn't particularly cared to go, but my parents so wanted to treat their grandchildren, and since Felix starts school this summer and then won't be able to take part in such a trip outside the school holidays, we went. And it was nice. I didn't get to do any skiing due to the kids, but I got to take some nice walks (and photos). I reanimated the old camera I'd bought in Japan for the purpose. I know my cell phone would have taken higher quality pictures, but getting pics from the cell phone to the computer is a bloody pain and I'm not gonna face it for 30+ pics, no way. So we'll all have to deal with the flaws of ten year old technology, oh woe.

( Picspam & rambling under the cut, as always )

Well, wasn't that fun! And now, to paraphrase JD from Srubs, I'm back to a world full of bad presidents, oaths and gonorrhea. URGH.

So, something positive. (Mostly.)

Felix is, well, mostly thriving at the new kindergarten (the Montessori place in the next town over), which he has been attending since July. Astonishingly enough, now that he's with teachers who a) bother listening to him, b) bother explaining the rules and the reasons behind them, c) bother actually doing things with the kids (rather than leaving that to the intern and the part-time aide and limiting themselves to surveillance and documentation), his meltdowns have become a lot rarer. That doesn't mean they don't happen anymore, but when they happen, that is no desaster, either, because these kindergarten people actually realise that young children sometimes react badly to overstimulation, understimulation, frustration and whatever else life with other people throws at them. And don't treat it like an illness. Will wonders never cease. They basically do the same thing I do at home when it happens: remove him from the upsetting situation, judge whether he needs distraction or time to vent his anger in a non-harmful manner, offer whichever they think is needed, and only try to discuss the situation once it is no longer acutely frustrating him.
It doesn't hurt, of course, that they don't force kids who can already read, do basic maths, play chess or build complex LEGO robots to engage in "Name things that are blue/yellow/red/green" projects for four weeks straight. It doesn't hurt that they don't try to discourage kids from whatever they're currently interested in. If someone wants to learn letters, they provide materials. If someone is curious about numbers, they have different games that involve numbers (up to 100, but hey, we only learned up to 20 in first class, so that's progress already). If someone wants to build robots, they provide LEGO. If someone is madly interested in something, they help them to find books on the subject or colouring pages or whatever applies.
And lo, the anti-social boy who supposedly couldn't make friends (although he actually had two friends, or two kids whom he considered his friends, anyway) has a BFF (and two almost-BFFs) and likes to play with some select others, too. He seems to be generally accepted by the group (although to be honest, I never had the impression that the other kids at the old kindergarten didn't accept him; the problem was wholly with his two main teachers) and actually *gasp* liked by the teachers.
He does attend ergotherapy because he grips pencils in his whole fist rather than "properly", which puzzles everyone, because apparently the cliché is that kids who do that do not like to draw (or write) and don't do it often. This is very much not true in this case - he loves drawing (he tends to go totally wild about a particular subject for months on end, producing nothing else: it started with letters and numbers, moved on to streetlamps, then to houses, and currently it's road constructions. With, incidentally, first attempts at perspective - I am ever so proud!), he can colour pictures reasonably neatly, and he can write legibly (and, I should mention, mostly orthographically correct. In two languages). He just holds the pen "the wrong way" - a result of having taught himself to write at such a young age without the corresponding fine-motor skills, I suppose. This wouldn't particularly bother me, but his teachers (and the teachers at the school he's going to attend in summer) worry that it may later slow him down, which will lead to frustration, which will lead to the Dark Side of the Force. Or something. So he goes to ergotherapy. Whatever. (He initially called it "Ärgertherapie", which is sort of hilarious because Ärger is German for annoyance/irritation/anger/frustration, and one thing it does is test his frustration tolerance.)

Now, last Friday was St. Martin's Day. This is perhaps most easily described as Rhenanian Hallowe'en (with a different backstory, that of St. Martin of Tours, with paper lanterns instead of pumpkins, and with caroling instead of trick-or-treating - but I suspect that at the heart of it, it's the exact same tradition, only with its date set by the lunar calendar and its customs painted Catholic at a different time. Also, no dressing up. To make matters more confusing, however, St. Martin's is on the same day as the beginning of the Rhenanian carnival season, which you do dress up for.) - anyway, all you need to know that the tradition is to make paper lanterns, walk around singing St. Martin's songs in exchange for sweets, and have a bonfire.
In the olden days (TM) when I was a kid, St. Martin approaching meant eating a particularly disgusting kind of soft cheese, because it came in round cardboard packaging that could later form the frame of your lantern. These were then lit with tea lights or Christmas tree candles, and every year, someone's lantern would catch fire. It never happened to me, but it did happen to my brother, who was smart enough to throw it into the next puddle. These days, of course, lanterns are lit with LEDs, which allows for a lot more variation in shape and size without anything catching fire!
(Another St. Martin's tradition of my youth, which feels absurdly distant when thinking about it in those terms, was caroling at the owner's of the local beverage store, who in exchange for our lantern song would give each of us a can of Coca-Cola. This was a really special thing back then, not because Coke was rare in general but because parents just wouldn't buy it. We always kept our St. Martin's can of Coke in the fridge until New Year's Eve, when we absolutely needed it to stay awake until the fireworks! It worked because we believed it, I guess.)
Anyway, we fortunately didn't have to eat that disgusting soft cheese in order to provide the framework for Felix' lantern. These days, crafts stores provide ready-made frames in all shapes and sizes. The kindergarten had picked four basic models and the children all got to choose which one they wanted to make: A princess, a horse, a fox or a firefighter. Felix decided for... the pink, sparkly princess.
Now, one of the perks of having only boys, I thought, was not having to deal with pink, sparkly, frilly stuff. But I was wrong. And because I knew that if Felix had been a girl, I would have been delighted if he had chosen something that wasn't stereotypical for his gender, I felt I had to put my money where my mouth is and let him have his princess lantern.
(As it happens, the lanterns were put together by the kids' fathers. And the daddies who assembled their daughters' princess lanterns? Went TOTALLY mad on the glitter. Seriously, those lanterns were smothered in glitter. It was as if all the fathers were completely excited about being allowed to play with glitter at last!)
During the little kindergarten bonfire, when everyone was marching their lanterns around, I overheard two boys talking about Felix' lantern. They were right behind him, although Felix didn't seem to hear them.
So they went "Haha, did you see, Felix has a princess lantern." - "Yeah, Felix has a princess lantern! That's for girls!" - "Yes, it's a girl lantern! L.'s got one, too!" and I was pondering at which point I should break the Prime Directive when another little boy, H., spoke up. "Nonsense, boys can have princess lanterns, too." He turned to Felix: "Isn't that right, Felix?" And Felix, oblivious of why a boy wasn't expected to have a princess lantern, emphatically replied "Yes, naturally!"
And that was that. No further questions, no further snark. H. settled the matter just like that. He just pointed out the obvious - clearly, if a boy has a princess lanterns, boys can have princess lanterns - and that was enough. And H. isn't even in Felix circle of friends (who might maybe have felt obliged out of a sense of loyalty).

Jörg wasn't too impressed by the kindergarten celebrations (one father in particular rubbed him the wrong way) but that little exchange alone completely made my day. (Also, the fact that none of the teachers tried to discourage Felix or L. from having princess lanterns.) It had its disorganised moments, it was friggin' cold, and Julian was tired and testy throughout it all (he hadn't napped). But Felix participated with good success, and for the moment, that's my priority. So there.

Julian, meanwhile, is very much in his Terrible Twos. And beginning to identify letters and numbers correctly. Sigh. He does a lot better in social situations, though, but that's mostly due to the fact that he's such a pretty boy that all he needs to do is smile and everyone's completely smitten. And he knows that. So he gets by mostly by charming people. It's unfair, but there you go. He's also very deft and nimble (Felix actually learned how to properly ride his Bobby Car from Julian, not the other way round). He has a great interest in cars and engines, and quite an astute understanding of physics: Recently, when he was trying to shut a drawer and something had gotten stuck in it, he didn't repeatedly try to push it shut as most kids (and many adults ;)) would have, but immediately realised that something must be obstructing the mechanism: He went around, identified the obstruction, removed it, and shut the drawer. He has already mastered the first person (something that took Felix until he was a full year older). His mental lexicon and his grammatical skills are impressive, while his pronunciation is still adorably baby-ish. (Also, he constructs complex sentences, but leaves out all conjunctions.)
I'm in two minds about his kindergarten education, which will begin next summer. On the one hand, we've managed to secure a place at a local kindergarten - not Felix' old one, obviously. That kindergarten is right around the corner from Felix' future elementary school. So that would be really convenient. On the other hand, I'm a bit doubtful about regular kindergartens after certain past experiences. Then again, the teachers at the other place may be completely different - and, as I said, Julian finds it a lot easier to charm people! I JUST DON'T KNOW HOW TO DECIDE. There probably is no right decision, so I'm sort of putting it in the hands of Providence (TM). We don't even know for certain that Julian will get a spot at the Montessori kindergarten yet!
I do hope that the local elementary school is the right choice. Felix' kindergarten manager suggested the Montessori school in their town (of course), which incidentally happens to be my old school - though it wasn't a Montessori school back then. But we had very slim chances of getting a place there, being from a different town - and indeed, we got none. And Alqualondë Academy* does have a very good reputation. They also acknowledge that quick students need support just as much as weaker students do. So that's something.


- - -
*The three historical villages that form the core of our hick town were literally called Swans, Oak, and Church Village. The school is in what used to be Swans, and is therefore called Swans School. I cannot pass that one up, can I?

OK, den Tiefgang dieser Unterhaltung verstehen vielleicht nur die Leute, die viel mit Eltern oder Erziehern abhängen. Mit den eigenen Waffen geschlagen!

Felix: Was ist das?
Ich: Was ist was?
Felix: Was du da anhast?
Ich: Ein Pullover.
Felix: Was für einen Pullover hast du an?
Ich: Ich trage einen grauen Pullover mit Vierecken drauf.
Felix: Mit schrägen Vierecken.
Ich: Ja, genau, mit schrägen Vierecken. Diese Art schräges Viereck nennt man übrigens Raute.
Felix: Du hast einen grauen Pullover mit weißen, hellblauen, helltürkisen, grauen und schwarzen Rauten an. Wie viele Rauten sind auf deinem Pullover? Sind es 44 Rauten? Kannst du sie mal zählen?
Ich: *versuche ernst zu bleiben und zähle die Rauten* 1, 2, 3....45, 46, 47, 48. Auf meinem Pullover sind 48 Rauten.
Felix: 48 Rauten sogar! Gut gemacht!
Ich: *breche endgültig zusammen*

Dazu passt ein Video, das elenbarathi gestern verlinkt hat...

After weeks of suffering from sore, swollen gums, Julian got his two lower front teeth at once. Nobody takes me seriously when I tell them this, because they tend to not notice the tiny little incisors, until Julian takes their fingers into his mouth (he still loves to chew on things) and, instead of tough but round gums, they feel sharp little teeth...

He has developed a keen interest in the world and grabs for everything within reach. Or without reach. In the latter case, he is very impatient if he can't reach what he's trying to get, and complains loudly. He will also complain if evil grown-ups decide that whatever he's trying to grab isn't something Baby Julian needs to grab (breakable plates, knives, the TV remote control). He also loves to see food. He correctly identifies eatable stuff, even if he's never seen or tasted it before, and smacks his lips or starts to suck in his cheeks to signify "HUNGERRR!" Unfortunately, he's very bad at eating so far. He pretty much refuses "proper" baby food, so I'm offering him soft-cooked carrot sticks and the like instead, which he loves to chew on, but swallowing is as yet a hit-and-miss game. As often as not, the piece of carrot, apple, potato or whatnot will be pushed out of his mouth, in a state that doesn't invite a second attempt. He also lusts for things he can't have, like potato crisps or grapes, if he sees Felix or one of us eat them. It's sort of hard to distract him from it...

The first reduplicated sounds appear, though they're not yet his favourites. But there are some recurring ones: "ning-ning", "le-le" or "me-me" (all sounds of annoyance), and "ba-ba" (a friendly sound, and presumably going to turn into "mama" and "papa" soon).

He also sounds like Baby Vader because he caught one of the colds that Felix brought home from Kindergarten.

* * *

Felix has succesfully taught himself to read, and is beginning to teach himself English - spoken and written. *facepalms slightly*

He has made a friend in Kindergarten. To be fair, I actually think the friend has been making him, but at any rate he hugs her back, goes hand in hand with her, and plays with her. As it's a little girl, everybody keeps making "cute" remarks re: they're going to marry soon! Hahaha. Ha. I for my part am just glad that he has a friend in Kindergarten at all. He actually tends to be friendly towards younger children (including D., the little girl who has apparently adopted him as a sort of bodyguard), but he's rather indimidated by those who are the same age or a bit older. For the record, he's comfortable with "much" older kids, i.e. school age kids. Pediatrist and Kindergarten teachers keep harping on about how he should be interested in same-age kids and we need to watch it, but if I'm honest, in Felix' place I'd be intimidated by those boisterous, braggy boys, too. (Not even boisterous and braggy in a bad way. They're four-year-olds, after all! But it's not behaviour that Felix feels comfortable with, and their interests don't well match his, either. He doesn't yet watch LEGO Star Wars, and he doesn't want to be a policeman or firefighter yet, either.) So he just doesn't know how to deal with them, and tries not to. He's fine with younger kids, to whom he likes to show things, or older kids, from whom he tries to pick up things. So he's not inherently antisocial, dammit!

When Felix has accepted a rule, he'll stick to it 100%. This can even be a little ridiculous, like when in the morning, he can't get up and come down the stairs on his own. This is obviously residue from when he was too young to go down the stairs without supervision, but he's internalised it and boy, does he stick to it. Other moms tell stories about how their kids emptied their entire Advent calendar in one go, or how, at any rate, the contents of some doors would be mysteriously missing. Doesn't happen here. Felix internalised that Today is the 15th, so I take the treat with 15 on it, and nothing else; tomorrow I can have the treat with 16 on it. He keeps watch on his father's advent calendar, though, because Jörg sometimes forgets to empty it and you can't still have the treat for the 13th in it when it's already the 14th! --
It also has its downsides, though. In Kindergarten, they already marked him as "challenged in his gross motor skills" because he wouldn't jump down from benches or vaulting boxes: He'd stay there and weep until someone helped him down. - He's perfectly capable of jumping down benches. But his grandmother, terrified of injuries, had taught him not to jump down walls and things unless someone was giving him a hand. That was a rule and he was sticking to it, and he had to be explicitly told that It's OK To Jump before he gave it a try. They didn't tell him that; they just expected him to jump, because That's What Normal Children Do.

When Felix hasn't yet accepted a rule, he'll test it for all it's worth. I'm actually assuming that this is normal behaviour in three-year-olds, because aren't those also called the Terrible Threes? But his Kindergarten teachers regularly complain that he says "No" or "I won't" a lot. So? Don't they all do that? And what am I supposed to do about it? He does it at home, too. All we can do is repeat the rule until he has accepted it, or grown out of it. Isn't that just the way it works, always?

I'm a bit tired of translating between Kindergarten and Felix, in case you didn't guess. I suspect they're just a little overtaxed with a boy who's emotionally and biologically three years old, but intellectually five. (Psycho counsellor's assessment, not mine.) Well, so am I! And I manage it, too! And I'm not a trained educator, damn it!
I know that most parents who're told that they're children are "trouble" like to blame others, and I tried not to do it, but by now, I do tend to go They Just Don't Understand My Precious Pebble, too. At some point, it becomes self-defence.

At least he's consistently using the first person now. That helps him a lot because at least they know he's talking about himself now. Still doesn't make them understand that when he says "Please change my diapers", he wants a new diaper. IDK. I guess they don't expect someone who's so eloquent still to need diapers? (He occasionally uses the toilet at home, but only at home, and only for pee, and only when he feels like it. Still, it's a start.) He also uses the advice I've given him for situations that make him angry - intead of throwing a tantrum when somebody wants to help him with something he wants to do on his own, he now shouts "NOOOO!" and then politely adds, "Thank you, I can do that on my own." When somebody gets into his comfort zone, he'll shout "No! Please leave me alone!" But I can't anticipate everything.
Besides, now they complain that "He always says 'No'!" Well, it's better than hitting, I should think?

You just can't win.

EDIT:
Oh God, now he's trying to learn Italian, too.
Send help.

I've got a cold. This time (presumably - that is, if we've all got the same cold) it didn't come from Felix' Kindergarten, but from the mom-in-law's gym classes, because she got it first, then it went on to Felix, me and Julian (with the two kids getting, as it seems, less violent versions - Felix got a runny nose and a cough, but neither complains about a sore throat nor the headache that's been tormenting his granny); Julian's got a runny nose and a less sweet temper than usual), and finally it reached Jörg. Me, I thought I only had the gentle version as well, but yesterday my throat went all inflamed and now I've got almost no voice and speaking hurts. We'll see how it develops.

***

The night before yesternight, instead of falling asleep, for some reason I started to reword my master's thesis in my mind. For those who only joined this thing recently, I handed my master's thesis in four years ago. The result was not what I had hoped for. This probably was because I hadn't made it sufficiently clear how the text fit the title (BIG don't), but I never actually went back and checked because STILL SORE. At any rate, it was a pass grade, so I thought I'd just leave it behind. My brain apparently thinks otherwise. Quite a useless exercise, of course, lying awake at night tweaking the wording so the connection between title and text fit. I can't use it at all now (though something inside me still wishes I could - I'm really still not over it, it seems), and it's just costing me sleep. Four years too late.

***

Felix is still hitting and shoving kids in his Kindergarten. His teachers asked me to contact the local counselling service because they don't know how to deal with his occasional bouts of violence (when you try to explain the matter to him, he'll shake his head and change the topic). I did as they asked because I'm a Mom Who Cooperates (and also, very insecure).
I'm in so many minds about this.

The first reaction is just "Boys will be boys, he'll grow out of it, don't make such a fuss about it". But of course, this is probably what the parents of genuine bullies think, too. (One of my parental fears is that my kids might be the victims of bullies. Never did I think about the fact that they might be the bullies.) Now, Felix is far from proper bullying ATM, but you just don't know, do you?

The second reaction is guilt and self-reproach. What did I do wrong? Did I somehow give him the idea that hitting others is acceptable? (Those who've known me for longer know that I occasionally used to have a, hm, very physical way of showing my emotions.) Probably not, because most kids hit and shove at some point, but why doesn't he stop, he's such a smart kid so why doesn't he understand it.

The third is, I'm actually glad they're addressing this, because when I was in Kindergarten, there were some kids who typically hit, shoved, pinched or bit other kids - and a typical reaction of the teachers (and of our own parents!) was "Arthur/Kevin/Jacqueline/Thorsten isn't doing that to hurt you, that's just their way of showing that they like you." (And yes, those are the real names of these kids, because even after 25+ years, I still know them. I've forgotten half the names of the people I went to high school with.) Now for one, even as a kid, I knew that "liking" didn't have shit to do with anything. If Jacqueline pulled my hair or Thorsten threw sand in my face, they didn't "like" me, they liked having the power to hurt. Especially as the teachers had pretty much just given up, telling other kids that the bullies just "liked" them and telling them off if they hit back. --- So anyway, I'm relieved that Felix' Kindergarten teachers aren't showing the same attitude, that they tell him off, that they tell me he misbehaved, and that they ask me to find someone who can help Felix grow out of this. I'm glad.

(The fourth is, I'm still annoyed at them. After they told me for the first time, I've tried to implement a bit of a reward system if Felix didn't hurt others in Kindergarten. They didn't tell me of any new instances of hitting or shoving for two weeks, so every day, he got his reward computer time or crisps after dinner. (He, naturally, never came to me and said "I hit so-and-so today".) THEN, after two weeks, one of them suddenly took me aside to tell me that Felix had been hitting and shoving all the time, and we really had to do something about it. WELL HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO SOMETHING IF YOU DON'T TELL ME. Instead, I'd effectively been undermining myself...)

Anyway. So I went to the local counsellor, who noted that Felix' development is "divergent" (you don't say) in that his intellectual capacities (did I mention that he has begun to read?) are far ahead of his social competence (you don't say). Unlike the Kindergarten teachers, who just seem genuinely puzzled, she had a few ideas about how to help him with the latter. She reasons that his "violent" behaviour actually has two conflicting bases, one being a desire for distance and one being a desire for participation. Which would explain the conflicting signals. (I've mostly assumed that he wanted to be left alone, although that didn't fit with the fact that he sometimes went out of his way to hit someone. On the off chance that he was actually trying to initiate contact with this behaviour, I suggested things he could say instead of hitting, like "Can I play, too?" or "May I have this?". But of course I can't prepare him for every possible reaction to such questions!) At any rate, the counsellor suggested that it would help Felix to practice interaction with others in a smaller group of three or so children. Ideally, these would be kids who share his delight in letters (so probably pre-schoolers?) so they now only help him to practice his social skills, they also show him that he isn't alone with his hobby. I dunno. This sounds sensible, but I'm not sure how she thinks she's going to pull that off. For the time being, I'm just relieved that she didn't suggest that there was something deeply wrong with MY PRECIOUS LITTLE SNOWFLAKE...

***

Something else that made me feel relieved (Jörg is laughing at me): This weekend, Felix' godmother came to visit us with her two daughters (aged 5 and 3). Now, unlike me, she's doing everything she does at 150%, including mothering. She's Super-Mom. She follows all the right rules and does all the right things. She's a really nice and lovely person, but she can be a bit intimidating in her perfection, especially to someone like me who is too inconsistent (and sometimes, too lazy) to do all the right things and lacks confidence, too.

She's having the exact same issues as I'm having. That is, maybe she's not blaming herself for it -- but her kids are doing the same things Felix does that I don't want him to do. Well, L. is obviously more mature, but she's 5. But M., the 3-year-old? Throwing the exact same tantrums. Same tendency to hit and shove. Same tendency to ignore warnings and prohibitions. Same tendency to be overwrought and overtired but absolutely refuse to sleep.

You'll probably laugh and roll your eyes, just as Jörg does, but do you know how much of a relief it is for someone who feels inadequate and responsible for everything bad to see that it is exactly the same for a confident Super-Mom? In theory, I know as well as everybody else that tantrums and power struggles are typically for the terrible two/threes. In practice, my kid always seems to be more extreme than the other kids. I know that the other kids are just throwing their tantrums when I'm not witnessing them, and that their parents are just relieved that it isn't them when they see me struggling with Felix. But it always, always feels like I'm the only one who's got these problems, and to top it all off, I'm probably to blame for it, too. And on Sunday, that illusion really proved to be just an illusion. And that makes me so ridiculously happy.
I dunno, I guess part of the problem is that currently, being a mother is my only true occupation. So whenever something goes wrong, it feels like I am wrong, I've only got one effing job on this effing spaceship and I'm not even able of doing that properly. (I'm mostly aware that this is nonsense, but it's still what it feels like.)

So being Super-Mom isn't the answer to all. And being a bit inadequate doesn't ruin everything.

***

One week to go until NaNo. I'm cheating this time and just turning my Japan diary into a novel. So it's really more like a major editing job than like writing anything from scratch, and I'm not sure that a fully-fledged diary still constitutes as an outline (which is permitted) or whether that's more like a first draft (which is not eligible for NaNo). But it is going to be completely rewritten, so I've decided that it counts. It's more sensible than starting yet another unfinished original novel, and I don't want to use NaNo for fanfic. (I write fanfic the other 11 months. Well, not this year. But normally).

I've been asked to attend a parent-teacher talk.

I don't know about you, but I hated those as a student. I was not a bad student - lazy, but clever enough to make up for it; too shy to speak up in class, but good enough in written tests to get decent grades nonetheless - nor particularly troublesome (despite being a bit, hm, too physical). But you just never know, do you? You never know whether your teacher won't tell your mom that you didn't do that one stupid homework assignment, or that you never raise your finger in class, or that you claimed to have your period to escape having to play soccer, right? (They always complained that I didn't speak up in class. Because I knew all the stuff and never said it. Because everybody would roll their eyes if I had the right answer yet again, because there was a time I was actively mobbed for being "Miss Know-it-all". Later, because the right answer felt too trite to raise a finger for, and I thought I must have understood the question wrong because it couldn't be so obvious. And because I was afraid it might be wrong after all: The one thing worse than being Miss Know-it-all is to err when you're Miss Know-it-all. And -- They never ask why, do they? They just say "Christiane's oral participation needs to get a lot better." and don't understand that it was way easier for me to accept a somewhat less great grade than it was to bear the mockery and mobbing. -- To be fair, I never tried to explain it either to my teachers nor to my parents. I expected them not to understand, and I expected to know what they'd say ("But your report card matters more than some stupid remarks by your peers!"), but I never put it to the test. -- Shut up, Lyra, this is not about your school days.)

So when I knew one of the official parent-teacher days was approaching, or worse, when one of the teachers invited the parents for an individual meeting, I felt a great sense of fear and foreboding.

As I now know, I feel that sense of fear and foreboding even when I'm the parent. Oh God, does Felix refuse to do his homewo -- oh wait, this is Kindergarten. Does he torment the other kids? Does he refuse to participate in, or worse, disturb group games? What are they going to tell me? What is my precious child doing wrong?

Actually, this is supposed to be a routine meeting - 6 to 8 weeks after their kids started Kindergarten, all the parents are invited to parent-teacher-talks. So it's just as possible that it's completely harmless.

And yet.

I'll have to ask my mom whether she always dreaded those parent-teacher meetings when I was a kid, too. She attended them religiously, even the ones where you didn't have to go, where she had to take a day off work in order to cover all the talks with my brother's and my teachers, so as a student, I thought she enjoyed them. (And enjoyed tormenting us with what she learned there, afterwards. "Christiane, why don't you participate in class? T., I'll have to check your math homework every evening!") But she probably didn't. Probably she went because she felt it was her duty, because not attending made you look like a Parent Who Doesn't Care, a Parent Who Doesn't Cooperate, No Wonder The Kids Turned Out This Way.

I guess I should just find it enlightening. Parents hate parent-teacher talks too. And yet again, I find myself understanding my mother a lot better now...