Wednesday 30 November 2011

Maith an Buachaill

So, Screecher Creature Number 1 started Senior Infants back in September.  Or Naionain Mhora, as he attends a Gael Scoil.  The parent teacher meetings happen in November which came as a bit of a surprise to me last year.  He was only in school for a paltry two months and it was beyond me how Muinteoir could get the measure of 28+ kids in that short space of time.
He’s learning to read at the moment.  Oh, the fun.  If Muinteoir knew the lengths I go to in order to complete the allocated 10 minutes of reading practice each night, Muinteoir’s job would be on the line.  See, our buachaill is a bright child.  He knows his tricky words off by heart and will recite them perfectly with one eye on the page and the other on anything else at all. 
I tried to trick him.  He’s dead against the mixing up of his tricky words.  Apparently, this goes against the way Muinteoir does it.  I told him Muinteoir said he wouldn’t be able to do it, he wouldn’t know his tricky words if it was done like this.  The boy is also quite competitive so this worked a treat.  It was slower than reading them down in order but after a few errors, he got it.
Last week I got him to use his binoculars.  Oh, the lengths.  I stood at the far wall and pointed out random words as himself read them through the glasses.  Another success.
Bribery also works well.  A favourite treat just within his line of vision can be great encouragement.  Unless of course the two year old nabs it.  Has happened. 
Isn’t education the best thing ever, all the same.  They are the best days of your life in fact.  Anyone else glare in utter disbelief at a parent who dared tell them that.  I am discovering, though, that reading and maths are not the only things our eldest son is learning in school.  He has mastered the art of giving the “ultimate wedgy” much to the outrage and frustration of the four year old.  He is the weak and defenceless target.  Farting and belching at will are new and unlikely to come up on a school curriculum any time in the near or distant future.  This is not a deterrent. 
He derives great enjoyment at administering a Chinese burn.  I’ve been the victim of a sharp and burning flick of his fingers – it’s hard to see him coming sometimes.  Although he once attempted to flick the baby and he received a harsh warning but I was unable to stop him the day he punched his baby brother “in the nuts”.  The child was wearing a nappy so was well padded but he cried in pain and shock nonetheless.  So did the perpetrator when I was finished with him, I don’t mind telling you. 
 “Mammy, who’s Mr. Beaver?” he wanted to know today.
I was stumped.  I asked for more information.  “All the girls like him, Mammy.  Erin and Abbey want to marry him. They were fighting over him today.”
Ah, Justin BEIBER.  The lessons in life continue and will for a long time to come.     

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