|Always, always cold|
There's also the small matter of whether the break has erased the efforts of the teachers over the past term. If today's return to rugby was anything to go by (where children forgot how to catch balls and parents forgot that standing on a pitch is always, always going to be cold) then that may well be true. Unless you frame the learning in a different way. Which is what I'm going to try to do, so here's....:
How to keep your kids educated during the holidays:
Maths (or numeracy, if you want to be PC about it).
At primary school, depending on where you children are at in the curriculum, they could be covering anything from basic addition to multiplying fractions. Leave this stuff to the teachers (you'll be getting homework on it anyway), instead demonstrate to them the wonder of maths by doing the following:
1. Ask them what theme park they would like to go to
2. Ask them to calculate how many boxes of cereal you will need to buy in order for the children to get in for free. Make sure they add on the cost of all the extra stuff you ended up buying from the supermarket because "you were in there anyway".
3. Take them to the theme park
4. Ask them to calculate how much it costs per minute, per ride (answer: circa £20 unless you subscribe to the divisive wealth indicator that is a Fast Track pass).
5. Watch their little faces light up in amazement when you explain to them that even though you bought cereal packets instead of tickets, you still managed to spend £150 on one day out.
English (or literacy. Or phonics. Or SPaG. I don't know what the right thing is anymore).
|Poo pants. There for all to see..|
With less focus on writing and honing formal sentence structures, children get far more time to exercise their conversational skills - whether you want to talk to them all day or not. This is great for developing their confidence in communication although you may find yourself having to explain to them that declaring "Dinner is Served" in a loud voice as they exit the toilet is not an 'appropriate' thing to say.
You may also want to plan any leisurely strolls that you want to take around your neighbourhood with care. I recommend avoiding bus stops, unless you want to find yourself having to explain "all the swears".
If you're interested in the extent of your children's vocabulary, you could also while away some time by playing Hangman, as we did in a restaurant. How smug we felt entertaining our children without devices. How short-lived this was when the waiter noticed the words 'poo pants' written on the pad.
PE (joyously this is still PE!)
The one thing that I *love* about the holidays is that the children get a hell of a lot more outdoor exercise than during an average week at school. The only challenge is that more often than not this exercise needs to be undertaken as a family. Which means negotiation, bribery, arguments, fighting and occasional crying. What begins as a simple bike ride or "just a walk" will morph into an hour of misery but like with all tough work outs, once you've busted through that wall you will find yourselves enjoying a tremendous sense of achievement (and ideally a pint). If you want to avoid the misery, the solution is to go with friends - there is something about the children being around other kids that seems to silence the whining button in a way that offering encouragement / threatening a tech ban / shovelling Haribos into their hands will never do.
As neither of us play an instrument, our ability to influence our children's musical tastes begins and ends with playing what we like. We keep BBC 6 Music on the radio and if we can be arsed to connect up the iPod, they'll hear mostly indie rock, dance and (heavily edited) hip-hop.
All this counts for nothing however as we have discovered to our great dismay. What the children have decided is all they want to listen to is Heart. Which means that the soundtrack to your holiday will be Shy Guy by Diana King which they seem to play on the hour, every hour. I think Diana puts it best when she says: "Oh lord have mercy, mercy, mercy......"
Your children may also decide to search the iTunes with their friends for Cake by the Ocean by DNCE. Did you know that it's got a version including the word "f*cking"? Neither did I. But now I do. And so do you.
Whether on holiday or not, we all run the risk of being caught 'in flagrante' (unless you're camping, I mean seriously are you really going to attempt it when you're separated by a 'wall' that is the thickness of a high-vis vest?) but on returning to our favoured holiday destination this year to discover one of the owners had had a beautiful baby just 7 weeks earlier, our son was most interested to know precisely why he was not going to get a little brother. Couldn't we just "wish for one"? Erm...no.
Whatever the lessons contain at school did not quite prepare the children for the moment when on holiday I walked down to the swimming pool which contained a large group of men, women and children of various ages, yet when I got in to the pool the men and teenage boys had mysteriously all disappeared. I thought for a moment that perhaps I had mistakenly put my costume on back to front (now that would be horrible) but it turned out that we were holidaying at the same place as a family of Orthodox Jews. So there's me and my girl in our speedo cossies and the ladies in their swimming dresses. We stared a bit, smiled a bit, chatted a bit about the temperature of the pool and the weather (we were in Devon, it's The Law) and carried on enjoying our respective swims.
Despite the differences we may have had, I learned that the way you deal with awkward questions is universal. My husband overheard one of the dads telling his son that he had to get out of the pool "because you just have to".
This holiday has been one of revelations, of family time, of raised voices, big hugs, memorable moments, boredom, excitement, beautiful days and torrential rain, late nights and early mornings (why does our boy not understand what a lie-in is!) but above all, it has been an education. I think we're all ready to go back to school.