Archive for the ‘socialising’ Category

Birthday walk

Most years, I have insisted on the family walking in the countryside as my birthday treat. It has provoked bad temper and resentment. As this year was a special birthday, I had three days walking, at which the kids only had to join for one day.

Eliza and Robin

Amongst the 30 walkers who set out on Saturday morning were Eliza and Robin’s friends E & A, also brother and sister.  They entertained each other throughout the hilly walk to the pub and the flat, canalside return. As the adults trudged through the afternoon, weighed down by lunch and beer, in the unseasonal hot weather (which made me very grateful for the summer hat that Eliza had given me as a birthday present), Robin and A covered much more distance than was needed, by running back and forward along the canal.

In the evening, these four had a table to themselves in the room set aside for our dinner. But the walk had taken its toll, as the two boys fell asleep on the sofas in the bar area, while we dined slowly.

Gabe

Gabe has in prior years been the least reconciled to my birthday walk, but rose to this occasion. He puffed hard as we followed the hilly trail in the bright morning sunshine, asking regularly how much further to the pub for lunch. But he kept up a good pace, staying with me as I hurried to reach the pub in time for the other guests’ arrival. On the return, he walked with Malc, L and me joining in our contented chat. In the evening, he milled and mixed with my friends who stayed for dinner.

A highlight of three wonderful days’ outdoors, was Gabe’s decision to walk again with five friends and me on Sunday. We were back into the hills and there was rain as we set off. But he was at his sociable, mature best. Towards the end of the walk, he conceded that he was so tired as to feel in a daze, but he saw the trip through without complaint.

 

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Inflatabirthday

Robin

Robin’s birthday came and so did his agonisingly chosen guests – three from his new school, two from his old. They had an hour at Inflatanation – bouncing in a warehouse of inflated shapes. Two mobile phones were lost and both found. At home, sitting down for tea, without the outlet of physical activity, some awkwardness returned, but fortunately new friend T is garrulous and kept the chatter going. Robin was happy with his birthday, signing off with a sleepover for old friend A. A week later, and Robin has invited his first school friend, M, home after school, and they had a kickabout in the garden.

Eliza

Eliza’s school PE class was set a challenge: do as many sit-ups as you can, keeping time with a ticking clock. Eliza stopped in the 80s, but could have continued. She was conscious that the rest of the class, all having given up, were looking at her. Her legs were a bit wobbly afterwards, she conceded.

Gabe

Gabe has been making slow progress with his 5,000 word extended essay (aka EPQ), on 60s music and social change, which is due for submission in March. He asked me to read the first 1,500 words. He is stuck trying to unpick what was a cause of social change and what was an example of social change. Access to abortion, he points out, was a social change and created social change. ‘Spot on’, I reply. But he wants certainty and clarity not real world ambiguity.

Christmas at home but not alone

We were at home from the end of school to the children’s return in the New Year. Eliza made a few breaks from the house – ‘going into town’ with school or gymnastics friends. Robin met up with his friend A and even came on a walk with L and me. Gabe went to a City game. We all went to a Christmas carol concert, a friends’ party and a pub to meet friends from out of town. There were also games of badminton, squash, football in the garden and, on one dry day, tennis.

At home, but not alone. We hosted three partly overlapping waves of visitors: grandparents, uncle, aunt and cousin, and Wirral friends. Gabe, Eliza and Robin each acted splendidly as hosts. Eliza, in particular, gave up her bedroom for much of the holiday without evident complaint.

On Christmas morning, we gathered in Robin’s room to open stockings. After the children opened theirs, we produced a fourth stocking for L. Each of us had contributed (Eliza with most imagination and commitment), following the pattern of their stocking contents to the point of a favourite fruit – in this case an avocado. It symbolised for me a very happy Christmas break, with L receiving a small return from the rest of us for all the work she put into the whole occasion.

Fourteen

Eliza

A teacher training day fell on the day after Eliza’s birthday giving her the perfect opportunity for an evening birthday party at home. Seven or eight friends arrived – one girl as tall as I am. They sat and chatted in high-pitched voices, laughed, ate pizza, played with their phones, occasionally bust into song, accompanying something being played on someone’s phone. It was a great success.

Gabe

Gabe attended GCSE awards evening where he and his classmates collected their exam certificates. A local MP and school alumna gave the address. Gabe received a faculty award. It could only have been more unlikely had it been Food Tech. It turned out that the boy who lies around for hour after hour, shirks exercise and has left his GCSE courses much less fit than he started, won the PE award.

Robin

Robin, following Gabe’s lead, returns from school and keeps wearing his school uniform through the evening. Even when we’re going out, as we did tonight to Eliza’s gymnastics competition, he chooses to keep on his blazer, tie and trousers. When finally, it’s time to get ready for bed, the blazer comes off and is tossed to the floor. L & I are trying, without much impact, to instil in him the habit of removing his blazer and hanging it up.

Bedroom cricket

Gabe

Gabe and Robin invented the format during the summer holiday – a concession to activity when they were at their most idle. The three of us play (Eliza and L, on occasions, too) but more commonly now it’s Gabe and me. The playing area is the length of Robin’s bedroom. We use a windball and a size 2 bat. Most ingeniously, the stumps are a pair of jeans hung from mattress tipped on its side.

Robin’s carpet makes the game. It takes turn – Warne-like turn for the well-spun delivery. And, given that there is no straight-arm restriction on ‘bowling’ the game is all about turning the ball, or as a batsman, countering that turn. 

Robin

Returning home from work, it might be thirty minutes before Robin registers my presence and appears. Usually, he’s in the living room or his bedroom, interacting with his phone. Recently, I reminded him that when he was younger he would run to the hall when he heard me come in the door from work and hug my knees. “Really?” He said. “I’ll do that again.” True to his word, last week, one evening as I came in the front-door, Robin burst from the living room and hugged me. Possibly, a little ironically, but appreciated nonetheless. 

Eliza

Eliza hosted a sleepover of gymnastics friends. It followed a gymnastics evening, which may have raised hopes that the girls would be tired. We set up two single and a double mattress for the five friends to sleep on in the living room. The rest of the family went upstairs to bed. The girls’ chatter and laughter carried on. Around midnight, the first text from upstairs was sent to Eliza, instructing her to quieten her guests. More agitated texts followed as the hours passed. Eventually, after 3am there was silence in the house.

Piano teacher

Gabe

Gabe has started giving piano lessons to the six or seven year old daughter of a local family. An initial try-out session was well-received and the young girl has 30 minutes tuition each Monday, for which Gabe is paid £5. Word has got around and an enquiry from the mother of another young primary school girl has arrived. Gabe is dismissive – “she can’t remember anything I’ve taught her” – but L assures me he is very gentle and doesn’t intimidate his pupil.

Robin

Robin’s first half-term at secondary school continues to be rocky. He received the invitation to have hot chocolate with the head teacher, but dropped his cup and spilled the drink in her office. He was picked for the school football team, but was played at left-back. He has made a couple of friends, although they only share a handful of classes. He’s more aware of the world, and terrified of what he hears about the news.

Eliza

Eliza, when not at school, is mostly ‘doing her own thing’. At home, she watches US TV series on Netflix, or pores over her phone in her room. But she’s just as likely to be out, visiting friends, going to a cafe in town, or in the park.

Prom night

Gabe

The day of Prom night began with me visiting the Co-op to buy four cans of cider. These were for Gabe to take to the before- or after-party, because alcohol was out of bounds at the real Prom, held at the Hilton Hotel in Manchester’s tallest tower. There they visited the cocktail bar with the glass floor on the 23rd storey. The after-party, back in Sale, continued until about 2am. Gabe returned, having enjoyed the prom, sober and offering a non-specific account of what had happened.

Robin

Robin had one of the dozen larger speaking parts in the year 6 play: The Pirates of the Curry Bean. He was Admiral Hornhonker, an incompetent sailor, who had achieved his rank through nepotism. Robin earned plenty of laughs for his foolish comments and was clearly enjoying himself on stage. He even had a tap-dancing routine. He also wore a particularly fine Admiral’s outfit rustled up by his Mother.

Eliza

Eliza’s school report reinforced the positive messages at her year 8 parents evening. She had good results across the board, with positive feedback on conduct and effort. As with Gabe, the three subjects where her results were particularly strong were history, French and English. Comments about her wide general knowledge surprised us a little, but maybe she knows more about the outside world than she lets on at home?