The Place I Dread Most In My Life

This is the place I dread most at the moment. I hate opening it's nasty little flap because there is never good news.

Both my husband and I have decent paying jobs, not megabucks, but enough. Things went a bit pear shaped three years ago went we split up for three months. I lived like I had always dreamed on a couple of very generous credit cards. My husband has returned and I have since paid those off and maxed them out again, a few more as well.

What baffles me, and yet I know why, is why they keep sending them to me! Seriously! I know they make a lot of money from people like me, but I see their actions as morally irresponsible!

I got a loan to consolidate my credit card debts from a finance company and they also sent me a new credit card. I. Kid. You. Not!

Laws make it illegal to sell alcohol to drunk people, why dosen't the same premise apply here I wonder?

I wonder if I will ever grow up and learn to budget, but for the next week and a half I just wonder how we will survive with on the -$24.94 bank balance we have at the moment. I think I will avoid the letter box for a while.

Mummy Makeover

I used to loathe fancy dress parties, but as I have matured I really enjoy them now. last night a friend had a 1950s cigar lounge inspired by "Mad Men" for her 40th. I guess it is not technically fancy dress, but my husband and I dressed up in a way that we would not normally dress to go to a party. I actually really love the dress I bought so will definitely wear it again, but Cliff's suit and tie bought from Vinnies will probably be sent straight back to them on Monday.

Most of the invitations that wind up on our fridge are for Riley these days. The few invitations which have been for us have been really great parties. Last year a friend hired a roaming magician, who was incredible, another had a karaoke machine and photobooth. I knew this party would not disappoint, so I decided to go the whole hog. And this is my makeover.

Before

Hair dye bought

And applied, jeez, that is red!

Heated rollers
I asked my husband to by me some heated rollers while he was out. He came back with some that he bought at the Salvos that were probably made in the 50s and had no clips with them, somehow I managed to cobble a hairdo out of them!

And voila!

"I'm on the toilet!"

I love this boy more than I ever thought possible, but for God's sake, I just want to be able to go to the toilet in peace!

The other night we were at a friend's house and I was in the toilet and right at that instant Riley decided that he needed me to enter my iTunes password for his iPod. He was yelling down their hall for me and then opened the toilet door to ask this of me. I yelled at him to close the door, which he did, mostly, he just kept his hand and the iPod in with me. iTunes then decided that it didn't need the password after all, so he left and left the door open. Annoying!

The other day he was in our ensuite with the door closed. When I entered he pointed out that he had closed the door for privacy. Oh the hypocracy of an eight year old!

On Growing Up

Riley was tired and emotional the other night. He was lying in my bed and talking when he sobbed emotionally that he didn't want to grow up, he wanted to stay a kid forever. I told him that growing up was normal and talked about why. He started crying more and flung his arms around my neck, saying that if he grew up I would die and he never wanted me to die. Poor little guy, I hugged him, consoling him with the fact that I would (hopefully) grow very old and be around to see him start a family of his own.

I told the Mahjong Nazi about this the next day and she shared what Riley had said to her on the subject of growing up. He told her that he didn't want to grow up and when she asked why, he said because he didn't want to have a big, fat hairy penis! Poor child!

I was thinkning about this is in bed this morning and realised that for many of us we are never truly happy with our age. I spent my childhood wanting to be a grown-up, my twenties wanting to appear mature and from then on I have wanted to be able to turn back time, especially now that I am approaching middle age!

I realised today that the Mahjong Nazi will be 70 next year. This makes me want to throw my arms around her neck and sob. I see where Riley is coming from, if I don't get any older she won't and then I can have her in my life forever. Alas, I know this can't be the case, so I'll just have to remember to throw my arms around her more often and tell her how much we love her.

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"It's Our School..." 1

Our house kicked off the start of the school term this morning with normal yelling and screaming. Cliff deals with getting Riley ready for school as I leave just after Riley gets up. I'm usually home long enough to hear the first confrontation. This morning it was about turning the heater on, the maximum temperature today was 32 degrees today, at this point I left.

I got a text from Cliff later telling me that Riley's school was not open today. Riley claimed it was his best day ever, resignedly Cliff took him to work with him. We have since found out that he has tomorrow off too. I am taking leave without pay to look after him tomorrow.

                                            

In the school's defence, the school calendar was emailed to us, but we seemed to have missed the fact that Riley's school had decided to take over 3 week's holiday this break. I have two friends who send their kids to two the top ten private schools in Perth, one school went back last Monday, the other today, like the government schools.

On speaking to Cliff after Riley had "his best day ever", he commented that the administration block at the school was not even open. I looked on their website today and realised that the staff do not have to be back until Monday! I also noted that they have a 'Staff Development Day' (read pupil free day) on the 1st of June. This, coincidently, is the Friday before a Monday public holiday.

All that said, we got the bill for his fees term, $2,481 and then another $240 'school support' hours. Each parent is expected to do 6 hours per term in school support hours. This encompasses: cleaning, open days, busy bees, completing classroom tasks - but not in the classroom, etc. or they are charged $40 per hour. This does NOT include actually working in the classroom. We were 2 weeks late with fees once, we go a letter from the debt collector.  Really!

We made the choice to send Riley here, I know, but we have now decided to move him back to the public system. We have to see this term out, or pay a term's notice in lieu.

I guess I have been tardy in doing this for two reasons. The first is that he loves going there. He has made great friends and we figure that at least they know all about him. The second is that I keep thinking they will improve.

The fact that they have not improved is the main reason for moving him. The school employs a 'Specific Need's teacher'. When we found out that Riley was dyslexic, apparently a 1st for Montessori, I encouraged the principal to send this teacher to some professional development that I was also going to through Dyslexia-SPELD. She came; I had the misfortune of being at the same table as her. She was negative and rude throughout the day and then we had words over lunch. I'm not overly proud of myself that day, but she should be ashamed. She was also very negative about the day and her time spent there when the facilitator asked for feedback from the group.

Three weeks later I bumped into the principal at school, another two weeks later, I received an email telling me he had not forgotten about the issue. At the end of term the 'special needs' teacher sent me a barely legible email. Riley no longer sees her.

The silver lining in my cloud was that I returned home to a beautifully clean house thanks to www.weshineyourhouse.com, and Riley is happy that he has yet another day off school.

"It's our school..."

"I Don't Want To Go Backwards In My Life"

As I was writing my blog last night my husband said, "I don't want to go backwards in my life". Well derr! nor do I for heaven's sake! However, I have struggled with juggling full-time work and Riley's special needs for too long. For three years I have felt guilty and deprived about the fact that I can't take him to school or pick him up. Thankfully, the Mahjong Nazi is amazing and picks him up 3 times a week. She also takes him to his dyslexia reading tutor and occupational therapy for his handwriting (and they are never late for either!). Without her, we would not be able to give Riley the extra support that he needs. The school also has out of hours school care, otherwise we could not do it.

For the last three years I worked in a job where there was a lot of flexibility and was close to Riley's school, but for many reasons, that school destroyed my soul, so I applied for a transfer and got one. The school I now work at is a very good school and much better than the last for many reasons, but it is a 40 minute drive each way and there is no flexibilty.

On the first day back this term the principal announced that a colleague had died of a heart attack over the holidays. Whe the principal made the announcement, I looked around at my peers, the team he had worked amongst for the last 15 years and there was no reaction. I assumed it wasn't the same Brent that I knew. Later that day, the principal made a comment about the difficulty in replacing a media teacher and it hit me, this was the Brent that I had called a peer and formed a fledgling relationship with.

The school I work in has a huge staff, but he was one of the 7 people I knew. I saw him everyday, I had to walk through his classroom to get to one of mine and I was usually a few minutes late, he was always gracious about my intrusion. He was laid back and easy to talk to. I was shocked that such a laid back guy of only 57 could die so suddenly, but more shocked by the fact that no-one seemed moved.

I had been toying with starting a business. I really want to just write, but know that I need a more practical approach to achieving my dream. I had wanted to start up a cleaning business, I am great at organising and know how to clean houses. With this business in place I then want to work on my writing and editing business. There is never a good time to make life changing decisions like this unless you win LOTTO. Sadly, the LOTTO eludes me. On hearing about Brent's death and seeing the lack of reaction by my peers, I was galvanised to make a change for the better.

That night I created a website for my business. The next day I went in and told them that I would not be able to work full-time for them anymore. We will see what happens from here, but for me, life is too short to waste. I want to be able to take Riley to school and pick him up and there is no way I can see if my business will work until I actually have the time to try it. 

The way I see it, I don't mind going backwards to go forwards. I hope Cliff can see this too.

Bad Parenting 102

Riley had a friend over the other day and the next time I caught up with the boy's mum, she told me that her son had seen a "machete" whilst playing in Riley's room. We both had a laugh, knowing it would propbably not be a machete, surely I would have noticed a machete? Admitedly my danger radar is not set to maximum, as you can see, but I know we never bought him a machete, or any type of knife.

I do go on alert when I hear of kids carrying knives about. As a teacher, there have been a number of times when kids have had knives at school and they have always been the kids with a few too many burdens. I worried that Riley might be turning into one of these kids.

As soon as we got into the car, I casually asked him if he had a knife in his room and he said that yes he did. We only live two minutes from our friends, so that was basically the whole conversation.

I raced into Riley's room and saw the plastic box of things that have been washed post camping and needed to be put back into the camper trailer. In this box is a large kitchen knife. I had cleaned these items and placed them in the box by the front door expecting Cliff to put them back into the camper trailer. He just saw a plastic box filled with stuff and asumed it must have been Riley's. Admittedly as I type these words, the box, with knife, is still in Riley's room. I really should talk to Cliff about that... 

To Label Or Not To Label

As I teacher I think I have been hyper aware of Riley's learning differences for longer than his teachers. I have lost count of the numbers of sleepless nights I have had worrying about him, even when there was not that much to worry about.

From the end of Kindy I knew that Riley was just not like the other kids. His Kindy teacher put a referral into the local chapter of the government child development centre and eventually we were seen. The referral was so vague, they pretty much had him down for every test imaginable.

We saw the physiotherapist and he was diagnosed with hypermobilty. Hypermobility for some can be really debilitating, for Riley it is not, but he really struggles with fine motor skills, will never be carried aloft by his team mates for a game saving goal and is super bendy. He does still have the pencilmanship of a pre schooler though, sadly, and his hand fatigues very easily. We have been seeing occupational therapists and physiotherapsits ever since.

We then saw the speech pathologist, the paediatrician and the clinical psychologist. He was deemed to be fine in terms of speech and nowhere on the autism spectrum, but diagnosed with ADHD. The irony is that his IQ test showed that he was of on the 99th percentile for visual comprehension, 98th for perceptual organisation and then in the 40s for working memory and processing speed. Sadly, I have found out that the first two can be improved if need be, but research shows that, generally, the later two do not improve greatly. The more he struggles with his reading and writing the worse the last two seem to get. And it breaks my heart!

Anyhow, to label, or not to label. Associate Professor from Edith Cowan University spoke to us today about the research done by John Hattie, a leading educational researcher based in New Zealand, on what works best. There are some things that research shows us actually have a detrimental effect on a child's education. One of those is giving children a label, eg, ADHD, autism, dyslexic. His research shows that those kids who are not labelled do better than those who are. Do not ask me how he knows this when he is testing a group who would apparently have labels but don't. What would I have done if I had heard this earlier and Riley wasn't already labelled? He would still be reading at the same level, still be in the same reading group, still be distracted. Such a dilemma for parents I think.

A close friend was asked by the classroom teacher of her 8 year old to get him tested for dyslexia, and yesterday I was gung ho in telling her about this research and encouraging her not to bother with the testing. Today, after a wise friend of mine shared some of her insight, I think I would encourage parents to have their children tested.

In Western Australia, dyslexia is not recognised as a learning disability. We need to put pressure on the West Australian government to recognise this as a learning disability and fund it accordingly. If we don't have a label for them, then the government can continue to believe that this very common and soul destroying learning disability does not have an impact on children's learning and long-term educational outcomes.

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[family dyslexia children parenting]

Bad Parenting 101

Without us asking him, Riley emptied his lunch box yesterday....from 2 weeks ago! Below is the science experiment that we found in there.

Why aren't I one of those parents who remembers to ask their child to remove their lunchbox from their bag each day, or better yet, train my child to remove it without being asked? Why has my son got a completely uneaten moldy sandwich in his bag anyway, why didn't he eat it?

Every day we struggle with Riley and his diet. He is very fussy and prefers bland food like pasta, or rice, but not bread. He also dislikes most fruits and vegetables. What to pack for lunch is an ongoing challenge. This is made even more frustrating by the fact that the Montessori school community does not believe in having a canteen, and refuse to let the children use the microwave in each classroom, which is very un-Montessori!

On another note, 1.5 kilograms are lost and I have negotiated a job-share at work, I just need to find a full-time English teacher, so if you know anyone English trained and looking for work tell them to call Kelmscott Senior High School.

Fun Times Were Had.

As predicted, the Mahjong Nazi was early, but that didn't matter, because we were slow and she did not grumble. We even got paid parking without her realising it. We also discovered that if you are a pensioner and join Club Burswood, parking is only $3, bargain!

Whilst she was sorting out her membership I got us drinks, both of these acts took us longer than expected. So, 15 minutes before the show started the Mahjong Nazi was in a panic, I had to skull my champagne and she tried to skull her green tea. We ran and strangely were seated in plenty of time.

We all LOVED the show. Riley was silent and transfixed the whole time, which is a first for Riley.

After the show  the Mahjong Nazi still had to pay the $3 for parking and she tried to put the coins in the slot where you are meant ot put the notes! I kid you not! I tried to take a picture of this, but she growled at me a bit, so I didn't.

This woman has tried to make phone calls with remote controls, use mobile phones to change the TV, needed me to go with her the first few times she had to use an ATM, has to call for instructions on how to use the TV and still refuses to carry and turn on her mobile unless she is expecting a call, but Riley and I love her so very much and would not swap her for the world.

Three Generations of Musical Theatre Love

This afternoon Riley, my mum and I are going to see "Mary Poppins" at Burswood. I bought the tickets over 6 months ago and they have sat idly on my fridge, swallowed up by all of the bills and school fliers. It is very exciting that I can finally take them off and offer up their space to something else (a bill probably). I always live in fear of getting to a concert, or show and not having the tickets, so I put them in my bag last night!

My parents were pretty good at taking us to stage shows and musicals and I remember fondly how excited my sister and I would always get and how we always wore our best clothes. We never went to church, so best clothes had to be used for some occasion! I started thinking about what Riley will wear a few days ago, and I know this is stupid, but I want him to feel the magic of going out to the theatre and part of it is still dressing up. Also, we seem to get so few opportunities to dress up and feel special these days I want to take every opportunity possible.

My mother, from hereon to be called the Mahjong Nazi, hates to be late. Her wall clock and watch are set 10 minutes fast and have been for as long as I remember. She is actually convinced that they tell the correct time and the rest of the world is wrong. It drives my sister and I crazy. We also do not like to be late, but don't see the need to be 10 minutes early.

The Mahjong Nazi

So the Mahjong Nazi called last night to tell be that she had heard from one of her bowling friends, that parking was CRAZY! We should get there an hour earlier, or catch the train! There is no point trying to reason with her that there will be parking, we just might have to pay for it. I hate catching the train to Burswood as the station is miles away from the complex and today I will be wearing very lovely, but highly impractical shoes. I expect her in an hour, but know she will probably be here in about ten minutes.

I do know that I will look amazing and tall, Riley will look handsome and I'm sure the Mahjong Nazi will scrub up ok too. We will be very early, so we won't miss a second of the show. I will have a little laugh pretending I've forgotten the tickets. And most importantly, Riley will always remember "Mary Poppins" as his fisrt taste of musical theatre and remember that his beloved 'Marnie' (aka the Mahjong Nazi) was watching right beside him.

The End Of A Dream

Well, the shrink ray ended in tears. Left unattended for a few minutes, Riley, impatient with progress burnt his finger on the soldering iron, screamed hysterically and now seems to have crashed for the night.

I know that today's failure will just be a small hiccup in Riley's inventing career. Two weeks ago he was determined to master flight and he mentioned today that he hadn't given up on that dream as he was flapping arms whilst wearing one of my cardigans.

As Charles F. Kettering said, "I believe and act as if it were impossible to fail ", so does Riley.

Technical Issues

I am aware that people are having trouble posting comments, I think I may have fixed it, but I really have no idea what I am doing. It is a miracle I have managed this much:).

Just A Quiet Saturday

We are having a bit of a lazy day today, me reading, when I should be cleaning and Riley and Cliff making a 'shrink ray'. Yes, they went off to Bunnings and have dismantled an old radio and apparently have all that is needed for shrink ray construction.

One thing that is very cute and never ceases to impress and amazine me about Riley is that he has a brilliant imagination and the capacity to believe that pretty much anything is possible if you have the right ingredients and tools. I know that Riley will be genuinely suprised and disappointed if the shrink ray does not work. That type of innocent hope is a really beautiful thing to me.

Personally I really hope the shrink ray works, as it will ge me into my dress next Saturday and I need all the help I can get after this morning's efforts (see below).

    

Ooops!

Welcome To My World

So, I’ve decided to start a blog which will be mainly about myself and my 8 year old son, Riley. I feel that I have so much on my mind, that I am using the old adage of a problem shared.

I am a full-time working mum, an English teacher, which is ironic as you will find out if you keep reading.  I desperately looking for ways to go three days a week, but financially it does not seem possible. I do feel like I am on the crest of a wave though and that I am going to bite the bullet soon. I want to use the extra 2 days a week helping Riley and writing my zombie novel.

Riley is dyslexic, he was diagnosed last year, but we had suspected it for a while. He also has ADHD, hyper mobility and poor fine motor skills, but I’ll talk about them at another time. You would think that a diagnosis would mean that you then had something to work with, but that is not the case in all of Australia except for NSW which recently passed a bill recognising Dyslexia as a learning disability. It infuriates me that this is not recognised as a disability by our government and I hope to work on changing this through my blog.

Riley’s very expensive school do not seem to know what to do to help his learning, so one morning a week we pay a specialised reading tutor to work with him. As an English teacher and lover of reading and writing it breaks my heart to see him struggle so much.

My husband and I have oodles of debt, like lots of us. I’m very creative with and talented at getting new credit cards approved, which, paired with a taste for expensive clothes and regular holidays (I do get 12 weeks a year after all) does not help the situation.

The most pressing issue though is the fact that I need to lose 5 kilos in 8 days. I have ordered a killer dress from www.pinupgirlclothing.com (not to be confused with www.pinupgirl!). I purposely ordered it a size smaller, when do we women learn? And I plan to wear it on the 28^th of April to a 50s cigar lounge party.

Last year I did the Cohen’s diet and lost 16 kilos in 3 months, but I found that when I went off it the weight started to creep back on. For the next 8 days I will be trialling the Attack Phase of Dukan Diet. If it works, I will look amazing!