What should you teach your child?

And my third (or is it fourth?) night without sleep. It’s getting insane, it really is. But I realised I couldn’t do anything about it so I meditated (which some say is equivalent to sleep) and worked on fixing my back. When 6am came round, I wouldn’t say I bounced out of bed but the stabbing pains in my back had vanished and I felt a curious clarity.

There’s a different dynamic in the house when Adrian’s away. James came into my room and said he had a suggestion for the problem of the Arctic Cryochamber Breakfast Room.

‘Wear your dressing gown,’ he opined. ‘Over your clothes.’

I had to laugh. He was standing, in school uniform with a long dressing gown knotted round his waist; trousers tucked into thick socks and a pair of ankle-high furry slippers.
So I followed suit and we had breakfast looking like a rum old pair of Noel Cowards.
James switched the radio from Adrian’s beloved Radio 4 to Radio One and we danced with the dogs to the Black Eyed Peas and shook with laughter and lost track of time and nearly missed the bus.

Once again, the SP and I went over the bridge and up the hill. Shrouded in mist; fine soft kisses of moisture on the air. But the path was slick and I felt my feet slide under me. So I followed the SP up the steep rocky path, through the trees, up, up, up, feeling lighter with every step. No wulfas; no beasts at all; just bird song, rustle and footfall. To the hill fort, the fastness, surrounded by ancient ghosts and then down the steep passage known as the Chimney.

Careful walking. Walking as thoughtfulness. Thinking, thinking. Mainly about my son, my lovely son – and the man he will become. It made me ponder the principles I hope I have offered him.

I don’t believe we should inflict our ideas, our beliefs on our children. But I do think we can offer up suggestions, thoughts, possibilities. When I thought about what I would like James to take through life with him, I came down to these...

1. To your own self be true. The stormy search for the self starts young and it can be a hard path. I like to think James has enough self-esteem and self-belief that he does not need to follow the herd. That he can make his own decisions; be his own person; be happy in his skin.

2. Be independent. It’s not just practical, this one (although James is learning to cook, to clean, to wash clothes and iron them; to have responsibility for animals and his own stuff – why, oh why, do people not teach their boys this stuff?). It’s about being self-sufficient; about taking responsibility for oneself.

3. Be honest but also kind. This is about discrimination and it’s a fine line for children to learn. If your self-esteem is strong enough, there is no need to put other people down. Yes, some people are hugely irritating; bombastic; stupid; plain revolting. But hey...who are we to tell them? And that leads on to...

4. Stand up to bullies and stick up for the underdog. People who bully do so from fear, from lack of self-esteem. This chimed with James and now he stands his ground. He also stands between the bully and the bullied, even when it means going against the crowd – and for that, I am so proud of my young knight.

5. Communicate. Honestly, this is so fundamental – not just to children but to everyone. Nearly every question I answer (in my dubious role of agony aunt) comes down to this. Talk. Say what you mean. Don’t expect another person to intuit your meaning. I go over this time and again with James. He – like so many of us - imagines slights that probably aren’t there; is over-sensitive; gets the wrong end of the stick.

6. Confront your fears. Fear is the biggie; the one thing that so often stops us from achieving our potential; from being who we want to be. But, once you confront a fear, stare it straight in the eye, it often backs right down. James learned his lesson on this a few years back when he was picked for a county cricket training. Nobody he knew was there and he baulked. He’s regretted it ever since. It’s not just the physical fear either (though I must say jumping off a mountain blows away a bit of that) but psychic fear too. I have taught James how to confront his nightmares; to stand up to the monsters and ask them what they have to show him (monster comes from the Latin verb, monstrare – to show, reveal).

7. Question your thoughts. Thought can deceive. Thought can lie. Thought jumps to conclusions; turns simple dilemmas into catastrophe. ‘I got a C for English. I’m rubbish.’ ‘He looked at me funny; he hates me.’ Negative thoughts are your ego acting out of fear. Okay, so you don't need to go into that with your child but, well, you get my drift...

8. Open your heart. Ah, this is a tough one to teach a child on the verge of teenagedom as you know it will bring heartache as well as joy. But, truly, hearts are made to love. I have no doubt James’s will be broken, probably many times. But, the heart is a muscle, a spiritual as well as a physical muscle – and without breaking, it does not grow. There is huge healing and transformation in unconditional love - yes, even to those you consider enemies.  I would point out that James isn’t totally convinced on this one yet

9. Have a sense of humour. Truly, the world hates a sourpuss.

10. Know when to shut up. :-)


Sorry. Longer post than intended.
What have I missed?
What do you hope to impart to your children?
How much should we impose our thoughts and beliefs on our children?



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Crime and Punishment

Crime and punishment – how far do you go? This morning we were listening to the news and a MP saying that the mood in Westminster was tortured and ‘unbearable’.
‘It’s getting a bit McCarthy-esque,’ I muttered through my muesli.
‘It’s like a McCarthy witch-hunt,’ echoed the radio. Whoah, that was a bit Big Brother-ish. Is someone listening in?

The breakfast table was swathed in gloom. Not because we are particularly anxious about our tortured MPs but because of a case of crime and punishment much closer to home.
Last night James came in from school as I was on the phone to a mother from school. Yes, Ben would love to come for a sleepover, yes I could pick him up from school and they could go to the cricket nets and muck around in the den and generally have a heck of a laugh. We haven’t had this boy to stay before; he’s a bit of a ‘new best friend’ and James was virtually dancing as I got off the phone.
‘Oh, thank you, THANK you, Mum. You’re the best Mum in the world.’
Yeah, well…..
Off he went to climb into the hedge and spy on the neighbours, practicing to be a deep cover M16 agent. My boy was happy: I was happy. The sun was shining (rare and beautiful). I sipped a glass of wine and thought all was well with the world.

Twenty minutes later the phone rang. Same mother. Er, change of plan.
What, in twenty minutes?
Another younger boy, it transpired, had accused James, Ben and another friend of calling him, not names (the typical playground taunts) but, bizarrely, name (that of another boy in his year – still shaking my head over that one). The small boy’s mother was threatening to complain to the head. Ben had been dispatched round to apologise profusely but his mother felt further punishment was necessary and the sleepover had been cancelled.
What could I say? It seemed a little steep but if the boys had been mean then obviously something needed doing. I said I respected her decision; maybe we could reschedule another time, and came off the phone with my unhappy mother face stuck firmly on.

James was genuinely incredulous. A small stunned and indignant face poked out from the top of the hedge.
‘What did we do? We didn’t do ANYTHING.’
I believed him. James can be a little sod but he’s an honest little sod and if he’s transgressed he will hold his hand up and take what’s coming. But this was clearly unfair in his book and he totally lost the plot.
The head disappeared and the bush heaved with sobs.
‘Twenty minutes?’ he managed to splutter. ‘Twenty minutes ago I was really really happy; now I’m totally miserable.’

What can you say? That’s life. Sometimes, no matter how good and innocent you are, crap things happen. I suppose it’s a good lesson for later life but my heart went out to him. We’ve always tried to be scrupulously fair with James and he respects that privileges are taken away for misdemeanours. But being punished for something that he felt really wasn’t his fault unleashed the flood-gates. He lashed out in every which way – grief turned to anger turned to incredulity.

Finally, exhausted, I got him into a bath (laced with soothing lavender) and managed to calm him down.
‘Honey, these things happen. Nothing’s achieved by taking it out on the cricket bat.’
‘But it’s so unfair.’ He shook his head sadly.

This morning I’ve been wondering about it. As far as James was concerned it was all part and parcel of playground banter. He said that everyone gets called names at some point and that you just take it on the chin and get on with it. I could sympathise. As a child I was called ‘willy’(from my surname I hasten to add), ‘carrot-top’, ‘spotty’ (freckles let’s be clear) and never thought of complaining. When James has moaned that so-and-so did this or that, we’ve told him that he needs to ignore it, or just deal with it.
‘What am I supposed to do?’ asked James. ‘How am I supposed to play with kids if at any moment they might take offense and run off and tell tales?’

Interesting point. How far should children ‘snitch’ and how far should parents take it on themselves to interfere in the playground? When does teasing turn into bullying (which I think we all would agree needs stamping on firmly)? I suppose it depends on the degree. But I do wonder if phoning up parents and threatening to go to the headmaster actually benefits the child in question. Will this boy grow up expecting that, every time something rotten happens, that someone will dive in and sort it out? Are we breeding a tell-tale culture?

I really don’t know. All I do know is that the atmosphere in this house has turned horribly sour and sad. Much like the corridors of Westminster I suppose.



Over at my other blog I have posted on downshifting and also on watery ways to enjoy the summer (ho ho ho). Click here to be directed.....