Changing the clocks is a nightmare for parents. When, like us, you've got a toddler that habitually wakes at 6.15am putting the clocks forward by an hour has obvious disadvantages.
I'd been having to get up at 6.15am for my school placement anyway, but with half-term upon us and my University seminars not starting until 9.30, it seemed like a good plan to start trying to move Rosie's timetable back a bit later. A steady delaying of her meal, bath and bedtimes over the course of the week resulted in her going to bed at 9pm (and hour and a half later than normal) on Saturday night and Kate and I getting, joy of joys, a lie-in until 8.20 the next morning. Rock and roll!
Of course this does have a downside: we changed Rosie's timetable so effectively that she was still asleep when I left for work this morning at 7.30, so I didn't get to see her until 5pm. For all that her contrary ways usually slow me down in the mornings, I really missed giving her a morning cuddle.
Monday, 31 October 2011
Saturday, 29 October 2011
Illuminate by Kate
Before I lived here, the Redfield area of Bristol barely touched my personal radar. Apart from unwittingly driving through it several times on route to the office in Bath and visiting friends in the area once or twice, I scarcely knew it existed. The M32 is hardly an insurmountable barrier (although it sometimes feels that way during rush hour) but I lived on the opposite side of the traffic flow for more than ten years and rarely did I venture into the uncharted (by me) territory beyond.
It's just possible I also had a bit of North Bristol sniffiness about the Eastern hinterland beyond, er, Easton. Nothing much happened there, did it?
Which just goes to show how wrong you can be about a place. Redfield may be unassuming in some ways, but it's a friendly neighbourhood with useful transport links, houses that are almost affordable and a rather splendid park. St George's Park is remarkably well kitted out. Not only does it have a thoughtfully designed play area, tennis courts, a small cafe and a popular skate park, it also has a generous expanse of duckpond complete with an array of bread-begging wildfowl. Rosie and I go there almost every day and only the most inclement weather will keep us away.
Arguably, St George's Park is the jewel in Redfield's modest crown and the community makes good use of the facility. Since we arrived here at the beginning of July there have been three decent-sized events held in the park: Redfest, the Relax Up Jam and tonight's Illuminate Festival.
Pheonix52 is the collective responsible for organising the festival, which combines an appreciation of Hallowe'en, the Mexican Dia de los Muertos (Day Of The Dead) and Diwali, the Hindu festival of lights.
Thus, we arrived to find an array of lanterns in trees, projections of fantasy skeletons, a flower-bedecked archway and homemade pumpkin soup (which was free and very tasty). Workshops in rangoli (Indian folk art) and lantern-making had taken place during the afternoon and the products of these were on display near the play park when we arrived to watch the lantern parade at 6pm.
We took Rosie along to the spectacle and although she showed a passing interest in the various cultural diversions, I think it's fair to say her main highlight was the novelty of being allowed a go on the swings in the dark. Theo and I enjoyed it all, though.
It's just possible I also had a bit of North Bristol sniffiness about the Eastern hinterland beyond, er, Easton. Nothing much happened there, did it?
Which just goes to show how wrong you can be about a place. Redfield may be unassuming in some ways, but it's a friendly neighbourhood with useful transport links, houses that are almost affordable and a rather splendid park. St George's Park is remarkably well kitted out. Not only does it have a thoughtfully designed play area, tennis courts, a small cafe and a popular skate park, it also has a generous expanse of duckpond complete with an array of bread-begging wildfowl. Rosie and I go there almost every day and only the most inclement weather will keep us away.
Arguably, St George's Park is the jewel in Redfield's modest crown and the community makes good use of the facility. Since we arrived here at the beginning of July there have been three decent-sized events held in the park: Redfest, the Relax Up Jam and tonight's Illuminate Festival.
Pheonix52 is the collective responsible for organising the festival, which combines an appreciation of Hallowe'en, the Mexican Dia de los Muertos (Day Of The Dead) and Diwali, the Hindu festival of lights.
Thus, we arrived to find an array of lanterns in trees, projections of fantasy skeletons, a flower-bedecked archway and homemade pumpkin soup (which was free and very tasty). Workshops in rangoli (Indian folk art) and lantern-making had taken place during the afternoon and the products of these were on display near the play park when we arrived to watch the lantern parade at 6pm.
We took Rosie along to the spectacle and although she showed a passing interest in the various cultural diversions, I think it's fair to say her main highlight was the novelty of being allowed a go on the swings in the dark. Theo and I enjoyed it all, though.
Thursday, 20 October 2011
First classes - by Theo
While not quite as swift as the CELTA, which had us teaching on the very first day, the Bristol PGCE course does whip us into classrooms pretty quickly, and today I taught my first full lessons to a Year 7 class & a Year 8 one.
Rosie obviously knew something was up. She must have caught the general buzz of excitement and anticipation, and was clearly thrilled for me. So much so that she felt she had to wake up at 1 am to let me know just how excited she was. And then again at 2 am. And again at 4.30 am. So, thanks to my darling daughter's enthusiasm for my fledgling secondary school career, I went into school on about 3 hours sleep.
Great.
The first class, the Year 7s, were third period after break. Having been in the school for nearly three weeks now they've got to know me a bit. I've been observing in their classes across the curriculum and had helped out in their class earlier in the week delivering sections of the lesson. So I figured it would go OK. And I guess it did. It was no shining triumph, but no disaster either. The class looked at the construction of character through dialogue in Skellig, particularly through the use of types of questions. The problem was that I was too ambitious in what I was trying to teach them and, being a mixed ability class, this meant that some of them were very confused by the end. I hope this won't have put them off - classroom management is a lot about the students trusting you and the activities you set. Too many activities which they just don't get and I'll lose that trust.
Year 8. Period 5. The tiredness was starting to bite. We were looking at Holes by Louis Sachar, and I had another ambitious lesson planned involving identifying literary devices (alliteration, onomatopoeia, etc), creative writing and textual comparisons. All in an hour during the last lesson of the day with a class who had become convinced I was stalking them. I threw myself at it. It felt great. We whizzed along taking nearly everyone with us, and many of the students going way beyond what I'd hoped for. We were flying, ahead of time. A couple of students, who through laziness rather than lack of comprehension had barely written a word, could have perhaps done with more time, but with ten minutes to go we'd basically finished what I'd planned. So we quickly whipped out the book and read through another chapter before the bell went and the adrenaline faded. Phew. What a high.
Afterwards my tutor commented that she felt the ending lacked a little something. It needed a chance for the students to talk about what they'd learned. That's when I turned over my four-page long lesson plan to realise I'd left out half of my final activity, which would have done exactly that.
Bugger.
You live, you learn. At least that's what I hope my students will do.
Rosie obviously knew something was up. She must have caught the general buzz of excitement and anticipation, and was clearly thrilled for me. So much so that she felt she had to wake up at 1 am to let me know just how excited she was. And then again at 2 am. And again at 4.30 am. So, thanks to my darling daughter's enthusiasm for my fledgling secondary school career, I went into school on about 3 hours sleep.
Great.
The first class, the Year 7s, were third period after break. Having been in the school for nearly three weeks now they've got to know me a bit. I've been observing in their classes across the curriculum and had helped out in their class earlier in the week delivering sections of the lesson. So I figured it would go OK. And I guess it did. It was no shining triumph, but no disaster either. The class looked at the construction of character through dialogue in Skellig, particularly through the use of types of questions. The problem was that I was too ambitious in what I was trying to teach them and, being a mixed ability class, this meant that some of them were very confused by the end. I hope this won't have put them off - classroom management is a lot about the students trusting you and the activities you set. Too many activities which they just don't get and I'll lose that trust.
Year 8. Period 5. The tiredness was starting to bite. We were looking at Holes by Louis Sachar, and I had another ambitious lesson planned involving identifying literary devices (alliteration, onomatopoeia, etc), creative writing and textual comparisons. All in an hour during the last lesson of the day with a class who had become convinced I was stalking them. I threw myself at it. It felt great. We whizzed along taking nearly everyone with us, and many of the students going way beyond what I'd hoped for. We were flying, ahead of time. A couple of students, who through laziness rather than lack of comprehension had barely written a word, could have perhaps done with more time, but with ten minutes to go we'd basically finished what I'd planned. So we quickly whipped out the book and read through another chapter before the bell went and the adrenaline faded. Phew. What a high.
Afterwards my tutor commented that she felt the ending lacked a little something. It needed a chance for the students to talk about what they'd learned. That's when I turned over my four-page long lesson plan to realise I'd left out half of my final activity, which would have done exactly that.
Bugger.
You live, you learn. At least that's what I hope my students will do.
Tuesday, 11 October 2011
30 years - by Theo
I am, of course, a smug married, and a very proud parent to boot. If I wasn't I doubt I would have faced getting up at 6am on the day of my 30th birthday to cycle through driving wind and rain to my school placement with such equanimity.
As it was, there was no way I couldn't have a big smile on my face when I arrived home to find both my girls dressed up to the nines, a modest pile of cards and presents, and a table laid with homemade cupcakes decorated by my daughter. It was very touching and made me feel even more smug than usual!
Rosie got me a water bottle to take into class, my sister Hermione got me a cookbook and some posh new cake tins, while my parents splashed out on a scanner/printer combo to replace our old Spanish one which broke. There were also lovely home-made cards from Kate and Rosie, plus biscuits and an "In the Thick of it" box set from my darling wife. Plus, not forgetting my birthday bike, which my lovely mother-in-law Cathy had contributed to. So, all in all an impressive haul.
However, it was a work night, so there was no way I couldn't do some work. So, after Rosie had gone to bed, Kate and I snuggled down to watch the DVD of Skellig, one of the set texts from school. It was pretty good and I even managed at times to NOT think about how it might be used in class.
As it was, there was no way I couldn't have a big smile on my face when I arrived home to find both my girls dressed up to the nines, a modest pile of cards and presents, and a table laid with homemade cupcakes decorated by my daughter. It was very touching and made me feel even more smug than usual!
Rosie got me a water bottle to take into class, my sister Hermione got me a cookbook and some posh new cake tins, while my parents splashed out on a scanner/printer combo to replace our old Spanish one which broke. There were also lovely home-made cards from Kate and Rosie, plus biscuits and an "In the Thick of it" box set from my darling wife. Plus, not forgetting my birthday bike, which my lovely mother-in-law Cathy had contributed to. So, all in all an impressive haul.
However, it was a work night, so there was no way I couldn't do some work. So, after Rosie had gone to bed, Kate and I snuggled down to watch the DVD of Skellig, one of the set texts from school. It was pretty good and I even managed at times to NOT think about how it might be used in class.
Sunday, 9 October 2011
Birthday Bike - by Theo
After months of dithering and changing my mind, I finally decided to buy a new bike. This wouldn't be cheap, as I would need all the gear as well - helmet, pump, lock, pannier, pannier bags, lights and so on. As it's my 3oth in a few days Kate suggested it should be my birthday present.
Buying a new bike wasn't quite so simple as I imagined. There was no waltzing in and just grabbing one off the rack. I had to get one in my size. It shows my ignorance about cycling that I didn't realise adult bikes came in sizes. In the end it took about 10 days to get a Barrosa Monaco made up at the Bristol Bike Workshop, which ended up being the cheapest option. Worth the wait though as it's very comfortable and leaves me no longer at the mercies of Bristol's public transport system. Well the trains anyway - I'm sure the buses will intimidate the hell out of me as I pedal laboriously along Bristol's streets.
Thanks to all those that contributed to my lovely present!
Buying a new bike wasn't quite so simple as I imagined. There was no waltzing in and just grabbing one off the rack. I had to get one in my size. It shows my ignorance about cycling that I didn't realise adult bikes came in sizes. In the end it took about 10 days to get a Barrosa Monaco made up at the Bristol Bike Workshop, which ended up being the cheapest option. Worth the wait though as it's very comfortable and leaves me no longer at the mercies of Bristol's public transport system. Well the trains anyway - I'm sure the buses will intimidate the hell out of me as I pedal laboriously along Bristol's streets.
Thanks to all those that contributed to my lovely present!
Saturday, 8 October 2011
NO! - by Theo
"No! No! NOOOOOO!"
Yes, Rosie has finally learnt the word "No!" She could of course express a negative opinion beforehand, but up until Friday this was usually done by shaking her head and arms and saying "da da da", which was, frankly, endearingly cute.
There is nothing cute about "No". In fact it is a hideous word. Sadly, of course, it's a very important one, in both English and Spanish. In fact it's probably more important in Spanish, as it's just put in front of the verb for a negative (whereas English puts "not" after) and is used as a general, often affirmative, question (E.g. "Te gusta el parque, no?" - you like the park, don't you?) So, we definitely brought this one on our own heads.
We are now both thinking of as many ways as possible to get "yes" into our sentences.
Yes, Rosie has finally learnt the word "No!" She could of course express a negative opinion beforehand, but up until Friday this was usually done by shaking her head and arms and saying "da da da", which was, frankly, endearingly cute.
There is nothing cute about "No". In fact it is a hideous word. Sadly, of course, it's a very important one, in both English and Spanish. In fact it's probably more important in Spanish, as it's just put in front of the verb for a negative (whereas English puts "not" after) and is used as a general, often affirmative, question (E.g. "Te gusta el parque, no?" - you like the park, don't you?) So, we definitely brought this one on our own heads.
We are now both thinking of as many ways as possible to get "yes" into our sentences.
Sunday, 25 September 2011
Student again - by Theo
As I took my seat on Monday it was impossible not to feel both a sense of nostalgia and of time standing still; after all, nearly 11 years previously I had sat down in the very same room (Chemistry Lecture Theatre 1) for my Undergraduate Philosophy lectures. Where did that decade go?!?! There I was again, a Bristol University student, for the third time, this time to begin a PGCE in Secondary English.
It's been a great first week; challenging, but not too intense. I seem to be in a reasonably privileged position of having a background in literature, a very solid grounding in English grammar and also teaching experience; few of my 29 course mates can say the same, it seems. I've been surprised at the range of backgrounds - some did degrees in Drama, others in Linguistics. They are a lovely bunch, though the demographics would surprise nobody - 1 male student to every 5 female ones, with only one student being obviously of a BME background. Across the wider PGCE course - 200-odd students studying to be teachers in Science, History, MFL, Geography, Maths, RE and Citizenship - this seems to be the case too. I've met a couple of other parents, though there are none doing English. However I did run into an old classmate, Susa, who is studying to be a German and Spanish Teacher - she only got a place on the course recently and it came as a complete, but very pleasant, surprise to met her at the lecture.
So far most of the lectures have just dealt with the 'admin' side of the course, plus getting to know you style activities within our subject groups. The real work begins next week I suspect, and already we've got piles of reading to get through. What work we have done - lesson planning, grammar analysis - hasn't seemed all that far away from techniques I'm used to in a TEFL context, all guided discovery and CELTA style planning proformas. We'll be in schools though from the first week of October and that will be a huge difference. I can't wait actually!
It's been a great first week; challenging, but not too intense. I seem to be in a reasonably privileged position of having a background in literature, a very solid grounding in English grammar and also teaching experience; few of my 29 course mates can say the same, it seems. I've been surprised at the range of backgrounds - some did degrees in Drama, others in Linguistics. They are a lovely bunch, though the demographics would surprise nobody - 1 male student to every 5 female ones, with only one student being obviously of a BME background. Across the wider PGCE course - 200-odd students studying to be teachers in Science, History, MFL, Geography, Maths, RE and Citizenship - this seems to be the case too. I've met a couple of other parents, though there are none doing English. However I did run into an old classmate, Susa, who is studying to be a German and Spanish Teacher - she only got a place on the course recently and it came as a complete, but very pleasant, surprise to met her at the lecture.
So far most of the lectures have just dealt with the 'admin' side of the course, plus getting to know you style activities within our subject groups. The real work begins next week I suspect, and already we've got piles of reading to get through. What work we have done - lesson planning, grammar analysis - hasn't seemed all that far away from techniques I'm used to in a TEFL context, all guided discovery and CELTA style planning proformas. We'll be in schools though from the first week of October and that will be a huge difference. I can't wait actually!
Saturday, 24 September 2011
Starving the little tykes into submission... By Kate
My mum tells me that at the age of two, I ate everything and anything put in front of me. By the age of five, I was Little Miss Picky. Not to an unmanageable or unhealthy extent, but my fussiness was exasperating for my mum, who was - and is - a wonderful and imaginative cook. In time, my food foibles also cast a blight over my own enjoyment of social eating and I suspect it's partly for this reason that by adulthood I had pretty much trained myself out of it.
Not surprisingly then, I am keen that Rosie will not be a finicky and unadventurous eater. I want mealtimes to be enjoyable, family occasions rather than battlegrounds and I want her to grow up appreciating good food. Nor do I want to have to faff around giving Rosie separate meals from mine and Theo's. Life's too short.
So I felt a tad dismayed when it became clear that Rosie, after a promising start, had become a vegetable refusenik and developed a deeply suspicious view of any unfamiliar ingredients. And what's more, her repertoire was shrinking rapidly. Something Had To Be Done.
With a bit of analysis, it occurred to me I was making it a piece of cake for Rosie to refuse her main course by always offering plain Greek yoghurt and fresh fruit (which she adores) as a follow-up. My reasoning had been that it wasn't a major disaster if she didn't eat much of her first course because she would at least have had something nutritious to follow it. But in fact, it was an own goal. Why bother making the effort with a strange new concoction if there's a Sure Thing on the horizon?
So I changed strategy. If Rosie refused to more than play with her main course, there was no alternative option on the menu. My reasoning being that if she was truly hungry, she would eat whatever was put in front of her - or at least some of it. If she's not really hungry, then she clearly doesn't need more food.
We also started making an effort to have family meals every day - bringing our own suppertime forward to accommodate the change - in the name of "monkey see, monkey do". And if Rosie is fiddling with her food, we try not to draw attention to her and likewise try not to make a meal of it when she does deign to put something new into her mouth. Furthermore, if Rosie decides she doesn't want what's on offer, we try to curtail the meal with the minimum of fuss - no scolding or cajoling (although she gets re-offered the food if she indicates she wants it back again) - we just clean her up and get her down from the table . Oh, and we've also cut down on snacks between meals. Apart from occasional treats, she's only allowed a bit of fresh fruit, and nothing too close to mealtimes.
Rosie hasn't become The Incredible Scoffing Toddler overnight, but the good news is that the Get Tough Starvation Strategy is getting results. Rosie is now usually willing to at least try the things in her bowl and her repertoire is widening again. She's also surprised us (and probably herself) on several occasions by doing a last-minute volte-face and suddenly stuffing her face with a previously despised food and asking for seconds. I'm hopeful that in time we'll even get her on friendly terms with undisguised vegetable matter, but I'm not kidding myself that will happen any time soon.
"You won't actually let her starve, will you?" one concerned relative asked me after I'd outlined my new eating plan for Rosie. Of course not. And I'm even more confident that Rosie won't let herself starve. The only real drawback is that a supper refusal will tend to result in a horribly early start the following day. Rosie wakes up, can't get herself back to sleep because she's ravenous and in a neat piece of toddler revenge, ensures that Theo and I eventually give up our warm bed for a bleary family breakfast on the wrong side of 07.00.
You can't win them all. Still, at least Rosie retains a sense of style during her meals. After all, it's far easier to tackle a potentially threatening foodstuff while wearing the appropriate accessories.
Not surprisingly then, I am keen that Rosie will not be a finicky and unadventurous eater. I want mealtimes to be enjoyable, family occasions rather than battlegrounds and I want her to grow up appreciating good food. Nor do I want to have to faff around giving Rosie separate meals from mine and Theo's. Life's too short.
So I felt a tad dismayed when it became clear that Rosie, after a promising start, had become a vegetable refusenik and developed a deeply suspicious view of any unfamiliar ingredients. And what's more, her repertoire was shrinking rapidly. Something Had To Be Done.
With a bit of analysis, it occurred to me I was making it a piece of cake for Rosie to refuse her main course by always offering plain Greek yoghurt and fresh fruit (which she adores) as a follow-up. My reasoning had been that it wasn't a major disaster if she didn't eat much of her first course because she would at least have had something nutritious to follow it. But in fact, it was an own goal. Why bother making the effort with a strange new concoction if there's a Sure Thing on the horizon?
So I changed strategy. If Rosie refused to more than play with her main course, there was no alternative option on the menu. My reasoning being that if she was truly hungry, she would eat whatever was put in front of her - or at least some of it. If she's not really hungry, then she clearly doesn't need more food.
We also started making an effort to have family meals every day - bringing our own suppertime forward to accommodate the change - in the name of "monkey see, monkey do". And if Rosie is fiddling with her food, we try not to draw attention to her and likewise try not to make a meal of it when she does deign to put something new into her mouth. Furthermore, if Rosie decides she doesn't want what's on offer, we try to curtail the meal with the minimum of fuss - no scolding or cajoling (although she gets re-offered the food if she indicates she wants it back again) - we just clean her up and get her down from the table . Oh, and we've also cut down on snacks between meals. Apart from occasional treats, she's only allowed a bit of fresh fruit, and nothing too close to mealtimes.
Rosie hasn't become The Incredible Scoffing Toddler overnight, but the good news is that the Get Tough Starvation Strategy is getting results. Rosie is now usually willing to at least try the things in her bowl and her repertoire is widening again. She's also surprised us (and probably herself) on several occasions by doing a last-minute volte-face and suddenly stuffing her face with a previously despised food and asking for seconds. I'm hopeful that in time we'll even get her on friendly terms with undisguised vegetable matter, but I'm not kidding myself that will happen any time soon.
"You won't actually let her starve, will you?" one concerned relative asked me after I'd outlined my new eating plan for Rosie. Of course not. And I'm even more confident that Rosie won't let herself starve. The only real drawback is that a supper refusal will tend to result in a horribly early start the following day. Rosie wakes up, can't get herself back to sleep because she's ravenous and in a neat piece of toddler revenge, ensures that Theo and I eventually give up our warm bed for a bleary family breakfast on the wrong side of 07.00.
You can't win them all. Still, at least Rosie retains a sense of style during her meals. After all, it's far easier to tackle a potentially threatening foodstuff while wearing the appropriate accessories.
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