School blues #01: When things go wrong as they sometimes will ...

Today, 28th of January, is Gab's (10 y.o. son) first day at a new school. He is in Year 5. He was accepted into an Opportunity Class program for 'gifted' kids.

It is also his first time to ride a bus to and from school. In previous years, Gab was ferried to and from school.

Mum: "I will take you to the bus stop and board you into the right bus. Then I will drive to your school and meet you there. In the afternoon, the same thing will happen. I will be at school to take you to your bus, and I will meet you again at the bus stop near our home. Easy. Remember, that you've done your dry-run with Dad in the previous weeks. So everything will be alright." (This was me trying to calm myself aloud ...) "Besides there will be other kids in the bus with you, so just follow them ..."

Gab: "But mum, what if you aren't there when I reach school?"

Mum: "I will be there, Gab. If not, wait for me inside the gate ..."

We waited 10 minutes for the bus to arrive. And in those 10 minutes, our anxiety built up. Gab even commented - "I should have failed that OC test, Mum, had I known that I had to take a bus to school". Shock, horror! "Don't ever say that again, Gabriel. You'll be fine!"

As soon as Gab safely boarded his bus, I scampered away to try to out-drive the bus to school. What I didn't know was, the bus took a shorter route than I did. But, of course! My sense of direction is horrendous, after all.

First myth - "I will be there before you". I wasn't! When I arrived at school, all parking spots were taken. I had to park way way away from the school. Every other parent was, I think, present on their kid's first day at school!

Second myth - 'There will be other school children in the bus.' Wrong ... there were only two of them!

OC Journey #2 - Turning point

One fine Sunday morning in 2008, i read a newspaper article about the rising cost of education in Sydney. Gab was in Year 3 at that time attending a local Catholic School.

Thinking aloud, I said. "Private schools are so expensive. We will need to spend anywhere from AU$10,000 to $30,000 per year! Even the government high school kids need to spend up to $5,000 for extra curricular activities."

Gab was sitting beside me and read the article with me.

Suddenly, he closed the newspaper that we were reading and muttered. "Don't stress, Mum. I will get into a Selective High School so Mama will not have to worry about money."

Truly, these were Gab's words!

"Alright, son. Here's the plan, in order to get a Selective placement, you need to move to a public school for Years 5 and 6, preferably get into an OC Class".

"Yes, Mum."

Bingo! The planets just aligned. How it happened, I had no idea.

In a nutshell, Selective High Schools are run by the government to provide an educationally enriched environment for highly achieving, academically gifted students.

Since then, Gab willingly attended tutoring lessons at Swot Shop for 6 months prior to taking the OC Test. Swot Shop primarily teaches children methods to employ in answering questions in a limited time.

When he was in Year 4, he told his classmates about his eventual transfer to another school and the reasons why. We were both convinced that he will pass the test. And he did, indeed!

What can I say? Constant affirmation and action truly works!

OC Journey #1 - How it all began

When the kids were little back in 2002, I decided the education path they were to take. I've always known that I preferred public education over private schooling (aside: I attended a public high school). First, I did not want to pay exorbitant school fees. I wanted our already high taxes to work for us. Second, public high schools lead in school performance anyway. For me, it was a no-brainer.

However, one does not just walk in to these high performance schools. One has to take very competitive examinations to get in. In New South Wales, the top government schools are called Selective High Schools. The name, I am guessing, probably means 'selected students' (aside: Aussies can be very literal in their choice of words).

First question to self: 'How do I prepare my children for Selective High School? I am not deluded as to assume that they are very smart children when they grow up.'

Second question to self: 'How do I make my children take the exam willingly with minimum fuss?'

The answer to the first question is easy. There are many avenues available: enrol the kids in a good public primary school, send them to coaching classes, get them a place in an Opportunity Class, or (heaven forbid!) all of the above!

Simply put, an Opportunity Class is a precursor to Selective High School. Government schools have OC Classes in Years 5 and 6. Again, children take tests to get in.

I resolved to take the OC path. Now, how in the world can I make this happen? How can I make the kids want to prepare for the test, let alone sit for it?

Portishead-fan posting #10: 'Roads' affects me so

It must be the way Beth Gibbons sings oh-so poignantly ... so painfully ... goosebumps run up and down me ...

Portishead sings "Roads" live at Roseland, NY

Kidchat #8: Life is a beach ... not!

I was walking with my 10 & 11 year old boys under a 32 degree Celsius heat. We were on our way to Sunday church in very oppressive weather.

I muttered, "We should have gone to the beach".

My 10-year-old son quipped, "Mum, how could you! We are going to church. Church is more important than the beach!"

Sigh. I taught my son only too well ...

Musings #81: What does "life begins at 40" really mean?

Warning: Some words may offend the prude eyes and ears
Ideally, for women only. But men can read on to ‘understand’ their women!

2009 marks my “pushing forty”. Nope I am not quite there yet as I am one year younger than my batch mates. Yet my frame of mind has turned a corner.

My moment of clarity: Forty years old is the average age when one’s kids are around 10-12 years old. Children are pretty much low maintenance from then on.

Therefore, we mums can finally start listening to our own needs. Ten years is long enough for putting our lives on hold after all.

Here is what happened to me “before forty”:
- family life came first above all else;
- sleep deprivation for at least a decade (depending on how many kids you have). Oh, those endless parade of lunch boxes you had to prepare the night before or early next morning;
- my body clock waking me up in the dead of the night so that I can check if the kids are warm enough or haven’t kicked their blankets to the floor (while the partner merrily sleeps on);
- no such thing as sleeping in, as either the kids come sneaking into your bed; or your body clock is so used to 6am awakenings - weekends, public holidays, every single day! there, there, i am not trying to scare off mum-to-be's;
- finding yourself having a discussion about Bionicle with a little one when you are in the shower (privacy ... gone!) (Trivia: Australian houses do not have locks in bedrooms and bathrooms for safety reasons, ie. fire, etc.);
- a quickie under the doona (aka blanket) is the order of the day lest a kid comes creeping in (do i see some nodding there?);
- shopping ... what shopping? I have not shopped for myself for years. I always find myself making a beeline to boys' wear and toys in the past decade. My meaning of shopping is quick and limited to essentials ... no time for browsing with 'i am tired, mum' cries trailing behind you. I envy my girlfriends whose wardrobe is ... well, full!

At forty, things can and will change (there’s hope).

The kids will be hitting ten and above. They now understand that mum and dad are not at their beck and call. All of a sudden, they actually comprehend that one should wait for a “come in” after knocking on a door instead of just barging in. Homework is completed independently. Woohoo!

So suddenly I am finding time in my hands ... what have i done so far?

I had highlights done to my hair (a first!).
I had my nails coloured (the last time was at my wedding).
I bought myself a pair of two-inch high heels. Oh, and it came with a matching handbag.
I bought a new dress (even if I had nowhere to go).

So ladies, let yourself go in your forties. Do things you haven’t done before or have stopped doing. Buy that sexy lingerie ... perhaps now you will be brave enough for that brazilian wax you've always wondered about (gasp!).

Midlife crisis in another ten years, you say? Isn't that when the kids finally move out of the house? Mmmm that brings on new possibilities ...