(Except, sometimes, it isn't.)
We started our home ed journey a year
and a half ago. I wrote two blog posts. Lots of very kind people read
them. Then life happened. Then we moved two hours down the
country. The last four months have been spent unpacking, sorting,
getting the house in shape, exploring our new area, making friends,
and wishing there were 48 hours in every day.
Now, finally, I've unearthed my
username and password for this blog (that took over a week in
itself!) and I'm back with some thoughts on a topic that I've been
mulling over for a while.
(I blame my good friend Dawn for this
by the way. She's the one who lets me go on about this stuff and
encourages me to develop ideas, and often puts them in my head in the
first place. Yes, Dawn, if you're reading this – All. Your. Fault.
Just like the halloumi.)
“That's enough.”
How many times a day is this phrase
uttered? In this house it usually occurs when the kids are doing
something I find irritating or are two seconds away from one of them
hitting the other round the head with a chair. What I actually
mean is “I really think
you should stop NOW before one or the other of us explodes.”
Sometimes, the kids agree. Sometimes they don't. “But I'm jumping
on the sofa, Mummy!” “But he likes being
swung around!” “No, I want
to do it!” The noise may be fraying my one remaining nerve, or I
may be able to see the danger, but for them
whatever need or desire is being fulfilled hasn't been dealt with
yet. When I'm in a calm, happy place, we look for another way to deal
with that need. You want to jump? Lets go to the park. You want to
throw things? How about cushions? You want to make a lot of noise?
Mummy is feeling a bit grumpy
right now and is finding that hard, but how about going up to your
bedroom to play the noisy game instead while Mummy de-grumps? (When
I'm sleep deprived and grumpy, I'm more likely to declare that they
need to just stop it now – the kids aren't the only ones learning
all the time!)
Then there is the “that's enough”
that you hear applied to “things”. Usually things that are
considered fun or “treats”. Television. Sweets. Time playing on
the tablet. Crisps. Sleep. Toy cars. Food in general. The “that's
enough” that means “I think you should have had your fill now and
am telling you to stop.”
It is this “enough” that we
am currently working hard to challenge in our lives, and that, when
looked at closely, makes the least sense. Because, once you start to
consider, it becomes obvious -
our idea of “enough” may not
be the same as our child's.
Does this matter? Over the last few
months, I've come to really think that it does. Because if we are
continually imposing our own limits, based on our own, personal
experiences, upon a child, how will that child learn to find their
own limits and tolerances and ideas about what they, not I,
want and need?
Take food for instance.
Some people can eat cheese until it is
coming out of their ears. Despite loving the stuff when melted, I can
only tolerate a certain amount before I really start to regret it.
Over time, I've worked out what the warning signs are, when my body
is telling me I should probably stop now. Most of the time, I listen
and set down that last slice of pizza. Sometimes, I weigh up the
situation and decide that the pleasure is worth the discomfort and
carry on eating anyway. Do I regret it the next morning? Sometimes.
Is that the end of the world? No. It might inform my future decision
making though!
What if, every time I picked up a
second piece of pizza or set about making a cheese toasty, Pete shook
his head and tutted and said, “don't you think you've had enough?”
“No!” my inner voice would be screaming (and probably my outer
one on the pizza front) but, conflicting with that, is this
suggestion, this implication, from a person whom I love and whose
opinion I trust, that, actually, what I am wanting to do isn't all
right. That sense of disapproval can be hard enough as an adult, for
a child it sends a clear message that their needs and desires are not
to be trusted. You'd certainly, over time, start to doubt whether you
did in fact know your own mind and body best.
For Christmas, both kids were given
quite a lot of sweets from various people. They like sweets, sweet
things taste nice. They also come in really interesting packets and
and crinkly, brightly coloured wrappers. They saw them, they wanted
them. We had two choices. Hide the sweets away and ration them out,
or, let them have it and work it out for themselves. We went with
option two. For eases sake, we gave each of them a tupperware box
with their sweets in, and they were able to have them when and as
they wanted. They were very interested; things were unwrapped, some
eaten, some discarded in disgust (Alfred is apparently not a
fan of caramel freddos) and the majority went back in the box to be
saved for another day. Ultimately, they worked out when they had had
“enough.” Not because we told them to stop or suggested that the
level of chocolate they had consumed was unacceptable. But because
they felt that they did not want to eat any more.
We try our best to apply that theory to
food in general. As parents, it is our responsibility to provide a
wide range of foods for our children. Their job is to work out what
they need and want out of that and eat accordingly. Will their
thoughts on the matter always match with mine? Not in the slightest.
For a start, to me, breakfast = toast and/or cereal, possibly fruit –
To Alfred, it can often include couscous, chicken and party rings.
Throughout the day, a meal might entirely consist of cheese. Or
sausages. Out of a “balanced” roast dinner, one child might only
feel like eating chicken, the other might eat their own body weight
in Yorkshire puddings. Or, they might eat the lot. We don't insist
they finish one thing before having more of another – if they have
a thing for a certain food and want to eat a lot of it at that time,
we let them. Why? Again, as with the sweets, that they recognise and
understand that feeling of having “enough”. Of knowing not only
that their need/desire can and will be met, but also so that they
can know the point to stop. If they are never given the chance, how
will they be able to approach food as adults in a way that is helpful
and healthy for them, as individuals?
Another topic that
comes up again and again is television/use of computers. After a lot
of trial and error and talking about it until the cows come home, we
have adopted a policy of removing limits. We don't have access to
terrestrial channels (due to various complicated issues in the wiring
etc that we haven't resolved, not as a conscious decision!) but the
kids have access to DVDs and a tablet each and they can and do choose
when to watch/use them.
One of the big
fears around is that kids will, if left to their own devices, just
play and play and play and watch and watch and watch and won't stop
unless they are told when they have had “enough”. I used to
think that too. Then, the first day we had the tablets, they sat and
played for the entire afternoon and evening. They were glued to them,
worked out how to find games, downloaded things that we or they
thought might be of interest, played games, watched videos,
downloaded more things – it went on and on. I admit, I had a
moment of “What the heck have we done??” Then they went to bed,
(minus the tablets) and fell asleep. The next morning?They got up,
got dressed, had breakfast, played, went out to the library, read
books, had lunch – the tablets didn't get a mention until nearly
tea time. They asked for them, they played on them, and the next
time they had them out was three days later. They do the same with
television. The point always comes when they wander off or switch it
off and declare that they are done now. As a consequence, at the the
ages of five and three, they are able to regulate their own viewing
time. That seems, to me, to be a useful skill for the future.
Are there times
when they play on them more than I, personally would? Yes. Do I
understand the need to watch Cars once a day for a week? Not
necessarily. Can I deny that these things are clearly important to my
children and that all sorts of needs and developments are being met
through them? Not in the slightest. And it is for that reason that I
cannot justify the setting of arbitrary limits and restrictions.
(Interestingly,
reading various discussions on this topic, I've a lot of people
saying how they had television limited/restricted as a child, and now
they can't not have it on. Others who had free access say they can
take it or leave it. I understand that isn't going to be a hard and
fast rule – and just by saying this I can guarantee getting twenty
people with experiences that debunk the theory – but it is food for
thought!)
As an adult, there
are times when I come across a new topic or interest that really
grips me. I want to read everything I can on it, watch everything
available – sometimes several times over. That may take a day or a
week or a few months; but I will glut myself until I have had my
fill, explored everything, learnt everything I want, and then set it
aside and move on. I have, at that point, had “enough” I allow
myself that satisfaction, who am I then to deny it to my kids?
There
are two main things that come out of all of this musing for me.
First, there is the point I've returned to again and again – the
importance of children learning their own limits. We all want our
children to make choices that are good for them,
to be happy and healthy, to know when to stop. There is also the
other, and equally important issue of feeling you have “enough”
of something. Of feeling content and secure in the amount you have.
Some
might say our kids have “enough” or even “too many” toys.
Alfred wouldn't agree. To him, there is always enough room for
another train or car – they are important to him, he likes how they
move, he likes the colours and the wheels and how they feel in his
hand. If he wants a new one and we can, we get it. If we can't at
that time, we put it on a list for the future, acknowledging the fact
that he would like it, and that we understand it is important to him
to have it. We could
of course just say “You've already got loads of cars/trains,” and
leave it at that, but what message does that send? We
might think he has enough, but to Alfred, there is a lack. He doesn't
have that car, and there is a little hole where it could, where it
should be. A child who
is feeling a deficit of something – whether that be cars, food, or
attention – is not a fully happy child. We know well enough that it
is so much easier to be kind, to be thoughtful and considerate, to be
generally pleasant and positive, when all our needs are met. It is by
feeling “full”, sated, and that they have “enough” that we
are able to share that good feeling with others. Imagine for instance
how much harder it is to share your food with someone when you are
hungry, or to be tolerant when you are feeling deprived or
misunderstood. Why then would it be any different for a child?
Do I
always practice what I preach? Nope. There are times when I am sat
there biting my tongue so hard it hurts. There are times when I don't
say what I would prefer to say
and all the things I want to avoid come out of my mouth. It happens –
I'm human, and often a very tired one! There are definitely times
when I flat out say “Nope, that's enough” without considering
why. Sometimes I catch myself midway and backtrack in as dignified a
manner as I can manage. Do I sometimes feel stupid? Yes. But it is
more important that my children know that their feelings are
respected and that they learn to listen to their own bodies and
feelings than for me to save face. (It also shows them that it is
all right to back down – you
can be wrong, and
admit it!)
