Hoochiemumma

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Tag: schoolmum

The Rona Files #3

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Learning from home, homeschooling, home learning….what ever you call it, that’s what’s been happening in the Hooch House this week.

We did a half arsed version of this late last term when the world turned to shit and we decided to pull the kids out and tuck them under our protective safety wing. Anxiety levels were high for a lot of people, especially those of us with family members who fall into the high risk bracket. My energy was taken up by simply processing our new world and trying to keep up with the daily changes we were seeing sprawled across the news. I filled my brain with an endless information stream and then wondered why I wasn’t sleeping so well…? Needless to say, the school work took a back seat and a hit and miss attitude it was.

By the time term 2 kicked in at the beginning of the week, so had all the amazing prep work done by the schools. They had us sorted. School packs and online learning were ready to roll! We were on. Here we go. Term 2 come at us. Mrs Mum was up for it.

Unfortunately it started off slightly rocky on Monday morning. It appears that some better “teacher” prep by Mrs Mum on Sunday night might have helped a little bit. We had schedules and papers all mixed up; apps downloading, login pass words flying, breakfast crumbs in library books; systems crashing and not enough coffee. We had tears before 10am, a teenager sneaking in some Netflix and a cat shit in a shower.

What. The. Actual. F*#k.

I’m not ashamed to say that on Monday night I was a bit knackered and if I had heard “muuuuum” one more time, I think I would have cracked. Also, why do they do it at the same time?

BUT….fast forward to Friday and the Hooch House was a well oiled machine of education gloriousness.

I have honestly been blown away by the way the kids have adapted to this situation. Not only have we been stuck together 24/7 for 7 weeks, they have also taken to a new way of learning with hardly a whinge. It’s been an interesting insight into the “school version” of each of them. Like a lot of parents, when I’d read their school reports, I think “who the hell are these kids? They don’t sound like mine AT ALL”….My messy and seemingly lazy 11 year old is anything but that when it comes to school; the big one actually does have a great work ethic and my funny little fella… well, actually, he doesn’t change his spots too much 😂. I understand his teachers frustrations and wonderment at the fact that it appears that his head is secured up his arse but somehow the information gets in…?

I’m so very proud of them and during this week, I’ve also learned a few things along the way. I’ve learned that explaining when and how to use quotation marks is harder than you’d think; that if allowed, ice cream for ‘recess’ would be the order of the day; I need to brush up on my times tables; the English language has way too many weird rules that make no logical sense; like me, my daughter likes to slam doors when she’s pissed off; I should have incorporated ‘laundry duty’ into the daily lesson plan; in the deep recesses of my brain is the ability to help explain how to calculate the volume of a triangular prism but the four years of French has left the building. Mostly I have been reminded of how fabulous our educators have been throughout this time and how lucky we are to have been serendipitously born in Australia whilst living through a pandemic.

To my fellow Mrs Mums…I wish you strength and good internet connection as we smash out another week of school work delivery, while questioning our IQ’s and clambering through the golden nuggets of knowledge we were once taught and now forgotten.

 

Patience be with you.

M

 

 

Hey, Term 4… You suck.

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Last week, I thought I was having an existential crisis.

Or perhaps it was just not enough sleep?

Maybe I needed more sun?

Early on set-dementia? Chronic fatigue? Perimenopause?

Is Mercury in retrograde?

B12… it was probably a lack of B12, I thought.

But no. I didn’t have any of those things. I simply had what is known as “TERM 4”.

FU you Term 4. You should be the best of terms. To start with, you’re the shortest term. You have Christmas themed everything. You have parties, events, summer days and celebrations. You have frivolity and rewards and gifts and candy canes. You have concerts and dinners and raffles and drinks. You are the epitome of happy.

So why do I hate you so much?

How do you make rational parents, far and wide across the land, become slightly unhinged, and fantasise about your fast and furious death… Why Term 4. WHY?

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You need to chill out a bit. Not be so needy with all of your parties and concerts and catch-ups. I don’t like to say it, but Term 4… I think you’re a little bit narcissistic. You’re just too high maintenance. You’re a bit of a wanker….A bit up ya-self. You remind me of my ex-husband.

Can I suggest you take a tip from Term 2. Term 2 is the Bob Marley of terms. Full of enlightenment with calm focus, slathered with purposeful love-filled productivity. There’s no need for costumes, parades, and endless parties for Term 2. No-siree Bob (Marley). Look, Term 2 may be stoned, but whatevs. We love Term 2. You….eh… not so much.

It’s not all your fault though, Term 4. The Western World is all a little bonkers at the end of the year. I can’t speak for everyone, but I now have an intimate understanding as to why some animals sacrifice their young and the realisation that black widow Spiders may be onto something.

So, it’s a hearty goodbye from me Term 4. I shall not be sad to see your arse end as I look forward to basking in a sea of relaxed glory. No more early morning shuffles, lunchboxes, uniform washing, homework, readers, notes, excursions, more notes, events, sport, sport, and sport. A gleeful 6-week hiatus, as we contemplate the arrival of your cheerfully hyperactive and hopeful friend known as Term 1.

Hold tight my fellow Term 4 warriors. We are almost done. I wish you well as we limp across the finish line, ceremoniously wrapped in tinsel and gaudy paper while drunk on exhaustion and dubious gift-buying decisions.

One more week…. let’s do this!

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M