Enjoy The Silence

Playing games is essential for your child in learning how to interact with others. It teaches them that it's not all about winning but rather how you can have fun learning and playing. This is one of the lessons I am trying to teach my little John McEnroe.

I call my competitor that name because it seems winning is what it's all about! Well my friends I have served an Ace!

You see there is a Game that has been devised by "moi" (and probably by many parents) that I am quite thrilled about. I can honestly say that, in this particular Game my young contestant is encouraged to win every time and at any cost.

This Game was invented for the joy it brings. Really though it was inspired for the sole purpose that I may keep what little sanity I have left whilst in the process of driving miss Daisy in the rather beat up old jalopy.

Can you guess what this marvellous Game is? I won't keep you in suspense as I know you are screaming to know. Well my tortured chauffeurs of little ones or those who have to sit beside/ drive around people who have the inability of closing their windpipes...

The Game is called Silence! Yes I know, brilliantly original you say.

The rules are quite complex so pay attention! They are as follows...

1. The driver or the one being tortured with non stop garble, screaming or incomprehensible chatter announces that an exciting Game is about to commence.
2. You tell your unruly passenger/s that the person who can be Quiet the longest Wins!
3. Then my fellow transporters, sit back and enjoy the ride!

Silence is really only a Game Away. And my small muted one wins every time... go figure?

Enjoy The Silence

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School is getting boring

It's been about 2 months now where my little academic has been attending a class once a week that is structured to resemble a real school day. Ok, it is only for 2 hours, (the longest 2 hours of the week for me). Her first day is Here

The children now know where to place their bags on the hangers and where to put their lunch boxes in the appropriate pigeon hole that has their name on it. There is still confusion with this as they can't read yet and confusion for me as they changed our spot! Without looking I put Amelie's lunch under the name Dylan. I should learn how to read too.

Thank goodness they have dispensed with the name tags (haha, Anonymity, love it!)

Other than the formalities at the beginning of the class, it is pretty much the same for the 2 longest hours of my week. Did I mention that?

There is activity time to start, cool. Puzzles, playdough, blocky shape things and other toys to occupy the little ones for half an hour. In 20 minutes all the puzzles have been done, the playdough is paddy cakes, the blocky shaped things resemble a rooster and the other toys have been played with as well.

"Papa, is there anything else to do?"
"Umm.. no. Let's do the playdough again."
"I don't want to, I want something different."
"There is nothing else."

"Papa, I'm bored."
"Ok so let's pretend to play with this until story and dance time starts." I implore.
"No! I want that!"
"It's locked away, they are not opening it just for you."
"Well I'll go get it."
"NO!", I say quietly. "Let's read a book."

Off we go and sit on the mat with Dr. Suess...
"OK Children, story time! Come and find your place on the mat."

What the? It took me 10 minutes to get my bored one to settle and now you disturb us?

The children begin to muster on the mat, some fighting for the same coloured square to sit on. My young one decides to sit next to the only kid who seems to have been smoking for the last 20 years with a cough that sounds like a frightened goose. Cool!

The teacher starts with a song. Most of the other little people are singing along and dancing. I say most as there are the 'others'. 'The children of the corn'. Those that shall not be named and then there is mine. She is sitting, not singing, not dancing, with her hands over her face right in front of the teacher. Where does she get that from? I leave.

I left not only because of the embarrassment but also because I had one too many coffees that morning. On my return, I am being searched out as it is time to dance with your parent. I put my hands over my face and sit.

The rest of the 2 longest hours had a twist, as they had organised an egg hunt and real food for all of us to share. Instead of the young empty tummies eating fruit or just sandwiches, there was a feast with all the junk food that I get so excited about, brilliant! Some of which I had to prepare at home. I'll give you the recipe next time.

After lunch, all ended well with playtime outside, where Amelie finally holds her own ground, by not being pushed around by those that shall not be named, at times being one of the 'others' which I quickly put a stop to.

Even though all ended well I can see my 3 year old is not that enthusiastic within a class of 3 year olds. She has known all the songs and dances for a long time. She can use scissors to cut in a straight line with left and right hands. She puts all the puzzles together in no time. She can make a design from different shapes to resemble something real.

I can see she is bored.

What do we do?  I know she needs to interact with other children. It's just that I think the children should be 5 or 6 years of age.

And to be honest, for me, school is getting boring.

I shall ponder on this now.

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I don't like school

The day had arrived where my young academic was attending her first day of three year old kindy. Everything was at it should be. Bags packed, lunch prepared, water bottle and uniform shirt purchased.

Once there.... All children and parents were given name tags (great) as I surely wanted to make idle chatter and find new friends (not). The good thing about this however, was now I was able to tell off any other kid by their correct title.

Ok, so with name badge on both our persons (mine upside down) we headed into our first activity of the longest two hours of my life. This activity was quite straightforward. All children sit on the mat and listen to a story then sing a song and have a little dance, parents join in too. Not so difficult.

Except my 'rebel without any reason' (so I thought) had taken exception to this and decided to stand, arms folded staring straight at the teacher!

Teacher, "Sit down Amili, emily, Am...ly, Emma?!"

Not a movement.

Teacher, "The parents of Emily, Am...el, Emilia?... this girl. Can you get her to sit down or take her off the mat."

Being the brave type I am, I nudged or should I say thrust my now embarrassed partner to deal with it as I quickly pocketed my name tag.

After this incident of defiance things were quite normal with paintings, cuttings, gluing and lego. Playtime was as I thought it would be like, with the boys running around pushing any unexpected child of mine over. Children playing in the sandpit tossing sand into my child's face.  More boys pushing my child down the slide as she was obviously taking too long. That last one did make her cry.

"Are you ok?", I ask.
"That boy hurt my feelings." I hear through the sobbing.
"That's ok, he has to deal with his stupidity for the rest of his life."

When it came time for the class to finish I was absolutely exhausted. Yet I did have to ask Amelie in front of the teacher as we were leaving as to what was the cause for her insurrection earlier? I was then told that all she wanted was a hug from the teacher.
"Why?" I ask.
"Because the teacher gave that boy a hug. You know the one who was having tantrums."

You think being in some ways human she would of made an effort and just given a small hug or even a pat. But no. Just an,"ok."

Nice one you rigid governessy! You 'aint no Mary Poppins. Have a Heart!

And yes I'll see you next week.

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Words

From my previous Post, To Smack I mentioned the trauma it can cause to your child, well all that goes with emotional/verbal punishment as well.

The words and the way we impart them should be thought about before being vomited in the direction of a child. Yelling and verbally abusing can actually harm a child leaving a deep psychological scar. Even subtle comments stick!

I've found, being Latin I've been used to raising my voice, not out of anger, it's just the way I am. Sometimes I've found myself succumbing to certain threats to make my child cooperate and I've found this can cause a worse fear i.e. abandonment.

How many times have you found yourself saying, For example,"Well I'm going without you, you can stay here", or even just, "bye, bye"! I've found these spurts of threats have given the message that I can't stand being with her (which wasn't my intention).

Being a father so late in life you'd think I'd be more mature but I didn't realise that saying things in an emotional knee-jerk reaction, or refusing to talk to her if she has done the wrong thing is all a great big emotional smacking as well as being so much more childish than what my intelligent daughter had done or not done.

Thank goodness I've gotten rid of such behaviour. I now take that split second to stop and think before reacting purely out of emotion thereby giving myself time to formulate the words needed to comfort rather than threaten. In doing this I've found we interact more, I get to the core of the issue and have the ability to resolve it without causing even more emotional problems and feelings of abandonment.

Words are so powerful and should be used in promoting a positive and joyful upbringing.

Now that I've gotten these last 2 posts off my chest I can return to the times we have had and will have knowing all is well in this relationship between a father and daughter.

Cheers

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The caca continues...

Kitchen; morning; sunlit;

Papa, "These eggs are going to be delicious."

Amelie, "I want caca."

Papa ,"Amelie caca is disgusting."

Amelie, "I like caca. I like to eat it."

Papa, " Yuck that's disgusting!".

Amelie, "I will put it in a pan and cook it and eat it ALL up."

Papa, "OK then, I need to take you to a doctor as I need a DNA check, because this is definitely freaking me out!"

Amelie, " But papa, I want to eat your caca too!".

Papa, " OH SHIT!"

Just eat your pancakes

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The Terrible Age

I will be honest. I am not coping with this age.

Terrible two's they call it. Well ain't that the truth!
I've been slapped. I've been kicked. I've been yelled at. AND I've been head-butted!
I am certain now, my Kick-Boxing Gold Belt Champion will be fine in taking care of herself in later years.

So back to the problem......

I'm not coping with this age.

My eyesight is deteriorating... My muscles ache after a long walk... My bones crack every time I open the fridge.... Every time I lie down I pull a muscle in my neck!

What am I supposed to do?

Amelie! NO!   Not another round! .....got to go.... If I can get up.

Ready!!??

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Security

Children with dads who are involved and interested in their lives are more likely to feel secure, confident and happy. Spend quality time with them and as much as you can no matter how you feel about something else.

Enjoy what you have for it goes past so quickly.

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Ever Heard of barbapapa?

Well that is my critics favourite at the moment,check it out!

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the C word

Amelie is nearly 23 months old and has been talking for quite a while now.

This last week or so something has been cropping up in her sentence structure. For reasons unbeknown to my good self my little orator cannot stop herself from inserting, either at the beginning or at the end of her remarks, the C word.

Its like my potty mouth has a case of tourette's.

I try and ignore it, as paying any attention the (master child psychologists=those who have no children) say only encourages it more. What am I to do?

I guess I'll just have to endure countless nursery rhymes with the added colourful language thrown in.
Example: Mary had a little Caca it's Caca was white as Caca.............
 

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quotation

"Always end the name of your child with a vowel, so that when you yell the name will carry." 

Bill Cosby

Amelieeeeeeeeeeeee! Got that right!

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Quote

"A hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove...but the world may be different because I was important in the life of a child.”

Forest. E. Witcraft.

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