Tag Archives: Northampton

July 29, 2010 · 9:41 am

I am a smug mother

 

I HAVE to hold my hands up and be an utterly smug mother: Dougie got the ‘Churchill’ leadership prize on his last day at primary school. Shared with his good friend and all-round top lad Tyrell Bernard.

At home, Doug is fairly typical second-born: fiercely determined to make sure everything is ‘fair’ but also quite happy most of the time to let his older brother get into trouble first while he pootles around with his head in the clouds. But at school, this year he’s matured enormously.

I was bursting with pride (and a little moist-eyed) when they called his name out to go up and take hold of the trophy – a ceramic statue of the war-time leader – and terrified he would drop it.

You tend to think the really noticeable changes in your children happen in the early, crawling,walking, talking years. When they get to the ‘tweens’ they might not change much physically – they get taller, fill-out, smell more – but basically have all the practical human characteristics to take them through the rest of their lives.

But in their brains, it’s all going bonkers. Hormones, being the eldest in school, seeing the opposite sex in a new light, it’s scary stuff.

Somehow, Doug has embraced all of these changes and the absence of his older brother with relish. Brothers as close in age as Jed and Dougie have the benefits of a constant companion, but also need to retain their individuality.

I can’t quite believe my cuddly, thumb-sucking little boy is getting all grown-up. (Actually, he does still suck his thumb when he thinks no-one is looking. . .)

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July 28, 2010 · 9:36 am

A dog, in a hat, on a bike. Singing.

 

WE had a great day on Sunday, just by going to the park. We saw one of the most surreal things I’ve ever encountered.

Yes, we’ve been to Abington Park, in Northampton, hundreds of times. If you get time this holiday, I’d recommend it. And it’s free.

We’ve had picnics before, bought an ice-cream from the Park cafe, listened to a brass band play on a sunny Sunday, visited the birds in the aviary, looked around the museum, played football, wandered around the rose garden and fed the ducks.

But never, in all my years, have I seen the dog on a trike.

The boys were very casual. I asked what they were peering at through the trees. They answered: “A dog on a trike.” Naturally, I thought they were joking.

I blame Bloke. I’m so used to his surreal statements that I am instantly sceptical and dismissive of anything that sounds a little odd. Like, “Oh look, there’s a dog on a bike.”

But they explained further. It was a blue dog, actually RIDING the trike, unsupervised.

“Shush kids, enough now, this is silly and you shouldn’t tell fibs.”

Then I saw it. A blue dog, wearing a bowler hat, riding a trike. Singing “Who let the dogs out.” With no sign of anyone controlling it remotely.

The Chron actually came up with the answer: He was a remote controlled robot dog owned by a local who hires him out. His roaming was controlled by a headset from a distance. Brilliant!

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July 28, 2010 · 6:00 am

Aloft, in the loft, sits. . .camping stuff

  WELL, here we go then. We’ve got to entertain our kids for six weeks. It’s the holidays.

Actually, it’s five and a half weeks for some. And the next fortnight must be the quietest on local roads, as just about everyone with children will be off.

So what do we do with them? In the current economic climate, do you do two weeks in Spain? Visit the relatives? Or just stay at home and do over-priced day-trips?

At some point we’re going camping (which I hate) in our decrepit campervan (which I hate slightly less). Not only do I have to do the dreaded clothes packing for six, but there’s all the camping kit too.

Bloke is putting it off, because he knows he’s got to face The Loft.

The loft, in our house, is actually a big cupboard with poor lighting which is stuffed to the brim with. . .well. . .stuff.

Somewhere under the piles of empty boxes, broken computer parts, outgrown baby items, a dismantled kitchen table and the Christmas tree, is an enormous tent/awning, several inflatable mattresses, a camping kitchen, burners, lamps, sleeping bags and a folding table.

We aren’t organised. The stuff will have all the muck and mould from being packed away last year. Our dread of The Loft will mean we won’t have time to check, and it will be just thrown in the back of the van along with too much luggage, too much baby stuff and too many kids.

Then we’ll get there, unpack it all, have a lovely-albeit-wet-when-it-inevitably-rains time, pack it all back up again and head home. Where we’ll end up shoving it all back in the loft.

I think the next few days had better be spent having a loft clear-out, welly-trying session and round-up of waterproofs. Oh, and someone needs to dig through the shed to find the camping toilet/bucket with a lid. There you go kids, who says the school holidays aren’t fun?

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July 15, 2010 · 2:09 pm

Transfer Day

IT was Transfer Day on Monday. To those of you without children, this is when they get a ‘test day’ at their new class, with their new teacher for September.

It’s all very well if you are just dropping them off at a new door, but for those with children changing schools, it’s a little more complicated and for some, worrying.

We’ve got a complicated set-up, having four children who need to be in different places. Doug went to his new secondary school, Northampton School for Boys (and yes, I do still feel guilty). Thankfully they wanted him earlier, so that was an 8.30am drop-off.

Then Billy went to his normal school but a new classroom. Bonnie met Childminder Clare at the school gates, while Jed had a more confusing set-up.

He’s not really got a new classroom to go to, because they haven’t made it yet. He’s not even sure the new Malcolm Arnold Academy will even go ahead now since the Tories have pulled the plug on the funding, despite the high-profile Tory donor who’s supposed to be running it.

So for now, he’s still a Unity (formerly Trinity) pupil.

I guess those new Year Sevens who were due to see their new school might have had an unenlightening day. All these kids – and the teachers – at Unity and Weston Favell (the nearly academies) have had enough uncertainty and disruption over the past two years thanks to Northants county council. It’s stupid, and it needs to get sorted. No politician or council officer responsible for the academy changeover should be allowed to disappear on holiday until it is.

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