Author Archives: sophieblovett

Word of the Week: Transport

Today the word that sums up the week that was is:

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This week we travelled to London and back, and went all over the city in between. In doing so we might have broken records, I think, for the amount of different types of transport we used!

We started early on Saturday morning on the train to London, a little bit sleepy but invigorated by the view and our breakfast picnic.

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Most of the weekend was spent traversing the city by tube and bus, and on Sunday afternoon Arthur went on a miniature train on a ride in Hyde Park: I wasn’t sure what he’d make of it at first but his big cousin Ilya looked after him!

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Then on Monday we set off for a bit of an adventure. We took the tube across to Bank, then hopped on the DLR out to the Docklands. Arthur loved looking at all the tall buildings and even got to help drive the train.

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Then the highlight of the journey: we took a cable car across the river! The views were amazing, and Arthur couldn’t decide whether we were in an aeroplane or a helicopter.

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We stopped off for lunch by the MIllenium Dome, then caught a river boat back into town.

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Arthur was pretty sleepy by this point, so was happy to lie back and look at the view while he had a bit of a feed.

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The next day it was time to head home, so it was back on the big train for the journey back to Brixham. We were all very pleased to see the sea: London was lovely, but it’s just not Devon!

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Since we’ve been back Arthur has been making choo choo noises, looking out for helicopters and aeroplanes overhead and loving playing with the ride-on car he got for Christmas.

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He was particularly excited at his Music with Mummy session yesterday morning: as it happens the theme this term is transport, and with everything he’s experienced this week it suddenly all seemed to make a lot more sense…

 

The Reading Residence

 

G is for gymnastics

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I loved gymnastics when I was a kid. From balancing on the beam and swinging on the bars to hanging upside down in trees and turning cartwheels on the beach. When I was fourteen I became drawn to trampolining – that sense of freedom multiplied by literally flying through the air. Then in my twenties I found a circus school in East London and took to tumbling. There was lots I had to re-learn, but somersaults and back flips were the perfect antidote to having to grow up.

When we moved down to Devon I was thrilled to discover that there was a gymnastics club in Torquay with classes for adults as well as children. My post-baby body hasn’t quite found the strength or agility to go back to tumbling yet, but it’s been brilliant to build up my trampoline skills again.

Arthur seems to be loving it too. He’s moving up this week from the baby group to be with the other toddlers, and is practising his forward rolls any chance he gets. He seems to get a real thrill from going head over heels – just like his mum.

I think gymnastics is a brilliant skill for kids to learn. It’s just an extension of playing, really – but it brings with it such self-awareness, focus and coordination. I think there’s something about pushing your body beyond its everyday range of movements and using your own body weight to build its strength that’s very empowering – and of course it helps keep you fit and healthy too.

So I hope Arthur continues to enjoy it, and I look forward to rekindling my own gymnastic ability too. I might never quite get back the level of skill I had when I was younger but that’s not going to stop me wanting to try!

Joining in with The Alphabet Photography Project over at PODcast.

Farewell Fun 4 Baby (and the flying duck)

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Last week saw another major milestone for Arthur as we bid farewell to his baby gymnastics class: from this Friday he’ll be with the toddlers taking his skills to another level.

We’ve been going to Fun 4 Baby at Torbay Olympic Gymnastics Club since Arthur was only eight weeks old. I remember his first class well – it was the first group we’d been to together, and by the end he was so exhausted from all the excitement that he fell asleep.

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In those early weeks, we focused a lot on getting him to enjoy tummy time. He hated it when we did it at home: would scream from the moment I put him on his front until I rescued him (usually about ten seconds later…). But at baby gym his coach, Mark, propped him up so he could look around, and gradually he got used to the idea.

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Arthur loved the sensory area when he was tiny too: the different shaped mirrors that would distort the reflection of the baby he didn’t realise was him yet, and especially the mirror ball which mesmerised him with its sparkle of scattered light.

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More than anything else though, Arthur loved the flying duck. A baby bouncer suspended from the rings to double as a swing, he would squeal with delight whenever we put him in it. Since his language and mobility skills have developed he’s toddled over himself, pointing and saying ‘Bird! Bird!’ and only ever reluctantly giving it up for someone else to have a go when his turn was over. The last few times he’s flown in the duck the difficulty of getting him out has been compounded by him being just too big! A sure sign that it’s time to move on…

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We’ve really enjoyed baby gym – Arthur’s loved the freedom it’s given him as he’s grown and developed so much, and for me with a childhood spent doing gymnastics and trampolining it’s been great to be back in that environment again. Although there is a basic structure to the sessions, and some clear activities for the children to engage in, I’ve loved that it’s essentially been baby-led – so I’ve been able to watch Arthur grow in confidence and curiosity, branching out and trying new things, and often surprising himself (and me) with what he can do.

I think now though he’s definitely ready for the next level, where there will be more instructions, more challenging equipment and lots more skills to learn. He’s already practising his forward rolls which Mark started teaching him last week: several times I’ve found him in his cot in a downward dog position with his bottom in the air and head tucked under rocking gently and trying to work out how to turn himself over. So whilst it’s farewell to Fun 4 Baby I know there’s going to be lots more fun for both of us as the parent and toddler sessions help him learn and develop even more!

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Sunset on the breakwater

Leigh successfully completed his third year at medical school this week – no mean feat as the father of a toddler with fifteen years on most of his fellow students. So to celebrate we went out for dinner at Breakwater Bistro, a fantastic local restaurant with great food, friendly service and spectacular views. We sat outside, soaking up the evening sun and making plans for the summer.

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Whilst Leigh and I were happy to sit back and admire the view, it was pretty clear that Arthur would rather be in it. So once we’d eaten our fill we decided to walk it off with an after dinner stroll. These light evenings won’t last forever right?

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We wandered in past the marina first. The sun was still high in the sky and the air was so warm it was hard to believe we were in the UK. The boats were gently bobbing against the pontoons, eager to get out on the open sea. The evening light projected their reflections amongst the clouds scattered on the mirror of the water.

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Though it was beginning to get late, Arthur seemed to be energised by the novelty and beauty of it all, eagerly chasing seagulls along the harbour wall.

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As as the sun dropped lower in the sky, bathing everything in an orange light, we meandered back towards the breakwater itself and its path stretching half a mile into the bay.

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It was the first time Arthur had actually walked the breakwater rather than being carried, and he loved it. He wanted to stop and examine everything we passed, playing the bench like a drum and reluctantly holding hands as we made sure he didn’t wander too close to the edge.

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The sunset was stunning as they all seem to be at the moment. We watched its colours spill across the horizon behind the silhouette of the lighthouse, and as the glowing ball finally disappeared we took our cue and headed home to bed.

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Country Kids from Coombe Mill Family Farm Holidays Cornwall

Word of the Week: Happy

Today the word that sums up the week that was is:

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I’m finding Arthur’s language development particularly fascinating at the moment. He’s adding new concrete nouns to his vocabulary everyday, delighted to be able to name things in the world around him. But he’s also beginning to use more abstract words. ‘Love’ was the first one: initially it was his name for a heart, and it still is, but he’s also started to associate it with cuddles and family, even this week linking it together with our names to say ‘love daddy’, ‘love mama’ and mimicking us when we say ‘I love you’. Which we say a lot!

His first adjective was ‘pretty’. He pointed at me when he said it that first time, and has since been using it to describe flowers and the sea and a picture he painted. Then this week he said ‘happy’ – an adjective but also an emotion. And I think he knows what it means. He says it when he’s doing something he loves, often follows it with ‘yeaaaah’, and has begun to precede it with his name. Out of all the considerable cuteness of the words he’s come out with so far, ‘Artur happy’ has to be the most heart-melting of all.

And we certainly have plenty to be happy about! The sun is shining, we’re getting to go swimming outside almost every day, and yesterday Leigh finished his third year of medical school so we have a whole long student summer to look forward to as a family.

We have an epically long to do list to tackle, making up for how hectic things have been whilst Leigh’s been studying. But for the next ten weeks, rather than padding around the house saying his name and looking longingly at the phone in the hope that it will ring and he will hear his voice, Arthur will be able to hang out with his daddy. And that makes him very happy.

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The Reading Residence

 

F is for folk

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During my formative years, I generally listened to trance and trip hop. It was a bit of a revelation to be (re)introduced to folk music in my mid-twenties.There’s something about the rawness and purity of the sound and the lyrics that I love.

This picture was taken at the Cadgwith Cove Inn during our recent trip to Cornwall for my cousin’s wedding. The pub holds a lot of history for my family: my mum’s parents used to run it, and it’s been the heart of the community for as long as I can remember. This was the first time we’d actually made it down for their famous folk night though. It was rammed with locals and tourists, and at its core was a group of people making music together, laughing and loving life. Arthur was in the sling, nodding his head and tapping his feet. It was way past his bedtime but it was definitely worth it.

Because there’s something very special about watching and listening to people making music for music’s sake, connecting with a community of listeners who in that moment are all there for the same reason, tapping into a sense of satisfaction and pleasure that is as old as time. F is for folk.

Joining in with The Alphabet Photography Project over at PODcast.

Why schools fining ‘bad parents’ is a really, really bad idea

Another day, another ludicrous idea from one of the Michaels. This time it’s Michael Wilshaw, chief of Ofsted, saying that parents should be fined if they don’t, amongst other things, make children do their homework.

This story made my blood boil when I read it this morning, and I can feel the fury rising inside me reading it again now. I mean, who does this man think he is? To make sweeping statements about the causes of underachievement amongst children growing up in poverty, to drive a wedge between parents and schools in the communities where close collaboration is perhaps most important, to blithely dictate what it is that makes a good parent in such a patronising and unpleasant manner. There are so many things wrong with his proposals that I almost don’t know where to start, but I will try.

Let’s just begin with what he expects of good parents. I agree that communicating with the school is pretty important, though I also know there are a multitude of reason why someone may not be able to attend a designated parents’ evening – and the realities of those evenings (or afternoons, or days) is that there is little scope for in depth discussion about young people’s progress, especially if they’re struggling.

I agree, of course, that reading is something to be encouraged – urgently so given the impact it can have on children’s lives. But you can’t force someone to read for pleasure – adult or child – and the real focus should surely be on expanding local libraries rather than closing them, or maybe reinstating the funding that would bring inspirational authors into schools on a regular basis.

And then we come to the tricky subject of homework. I never much liked homework, neither as a child nor as a teacher. And with educational research throwing up little to support its position as a tool to improve learning, and officials in countries from China to France and Sweden seeking to reduce it or ban it altogether, it seems a funny time for Wilshaw to be insisting on its importance. I’m not saying that there aren’t times when it is appropriate for students to work on something at home, but teachers setting tasks for the sake of it then parents battling with demotivated kids to complete homework that’s only going to increase teachers’ workloads when they have to mark it just makes no sense at all to me.

But to be honest it’s not the nitty gritty of Wilshaw’s proposals that I find so offensive, even if they are typically narrow-minded and outdated in their origins. What I find really unbelievable is that he can think that pitching schools and parents against each other is really the best way to get them to work together to support the young people in their care. The bullying tactics he used against the parents at his old school in Hackney are really not going to work for anyone – and I can’t imagine that many head teachers would want to take the approach he describes.

The issues that lead to underachievement in impoverished communities are complex and far-reaching. Many of them have their roots in low self-esteem perpetuated by generations of un- or under-employment – in a lack of trust in the system, and schools in particular. The only way to truly overcome this is to help communities believe in themselves again, to show what they can achieve for themselves and for their children when they work hard, to celebrate successes and find the things that motivate them to change.

Treating parents as naughty school kids themselves would have the opposite effect – sure people might purport to play the game, might jump through the hoops they need to to escape the fines, but that is a long way from nurturing the impetus for learning that will truly help young people escape the cycle of poverty.

And what if parents don’t play the game? To be honest the ones that are hardest to reach, that aren’t already responding to schools’ attempts to engage them, are highly unlikely to give two hoots about the prospect of a fine. And what then? Protracted and costly legal proceedings, culminating in poor families being poorer still and so condemning the young people who most need our help to an even harder struggle?

I don’t know whether Wilshaw intended to be taken seriously, or whether he was just firing off another simplistic idea for the sake of it. But I do know that his way of thinking is incredibly damaging to our society – and it is time that parents stood together with schools to tell him that enough is enough.

 

Beautiful Bombay Duck

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Father’s day this year coincided with another rather special occasion: the relaunch of my parents’ boat, Bombay Duck, after six months of painstaking work to restore her to her former glory.

The actual launch happened on Saturday, but yesterday we made our way over to meet them at the Salcombe estuary for the inaugural trip to celebrate her restoration.

Arthur was a little bit sceptical at first: he’s been on bigger boats before, but this was his first boat trip where I think he was really aware of what was going on and he found it all a bit peculiar.

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He soon got into the swing of things though: testing out the whistle on his life jacket, finding out what all the wheels and buttons did, and generally having a pretty awesome time.

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We’d brought Leigh’s fishing kit with us – last year’s birthday present that with everything else that’s been going on hadn’t yet made it out of the house! We didn’t actually catch any fish, but it was good to finally get it out and in the water – and Arthur certainly seemed interested in what daddy was up to…

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It was lovely to get to hang out on the water – such a gorgeous afternoon, perfect to fill with family, fun and fresh air. The fresh air did eventually take its toll though, and as we began to head back Arthur started to get very sleepy and just a little bit fractious. Nothing that the sling couldn’t solve of course!

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Once the boat was all moored up we made our way back through the woodland, Arthur dozing and the rest of us full of excitement about the watery adventures the summer will hold aboard beautiful Bombay Duck.

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