NEWS FLASH "CROYDON HILLS WOMAN TAKES CHILDREN BIKE RIDING"

This morning a Croydon Hills woman shocked onlookers when she went for a bike ride with her seven and nine year old children at 9 a.m. in the morning. She left the security of her home without her phone, purse or a supply of snack-food for the children. Armed only with her bike helmet and a positive outlook, she set off into the wilds of Croydon Hills.
'My wife would never choose to take the kids bike riding, let alone go riding on her own bike', her bewildered husband commented. 'I just looked out the window and there they all were, casually riding down the street.'
What makes this incident even more puzzling is that the woman went riding without a clear idea of where they were going and what hill climbs may be involved. 
'I knew there was a big park near our house with a bit of a path around it, so I thought we would just ride there.' the mother commented. 'However, things took a turn for the worse when we discovered that the circuit we had chosen to ride around ended up with a significant hill climb in order to get home.' the middle aged mother stated. When asked if she will attempt such a feat again she replied 'I think next time, I will put my kids bikes in the boot and drive them to a local park that we know has flat bike paths. Proximity to a coffee shop would also be helpful.'
It remains to be seen whether this mother will ever take her children bike riding again.


For those readers who know me personally, you will appreciate just what a feat it was to take my children bike riding without my husband. He is a keen cyclist and even has a bike for riding on the road and a bike for riding 'off road'. I find that bewildering! However, my kids and I joined up for a promotion called 'Active April', where you endeavour to do 30 minutes of exercise a day plus my children were fighting like cat and dog this morning, so I had to get them out and do something! Things really did start very well. There were a few shaky moments, like when my daughter's head band that she was holding in her hand (in addition to the handle bars) landed on the ground and her brother didn't really feel like assisting her in retrieving it. There was also the moment when my son discovered that he didn't really like the feel of gravel slipping beneath his tyres. However, this paled into insignificance when we had to walk a couple of hundred metres up a steep footpath in order to get home. One child took it in their stride. They just pushed their bike at a steady pace, knowing that our house was just around the corner. My other child found the effort involved in pushing the bike up the hill to be all too much. Sadly, as I was busy pushing my own bike, I was unable to help them. So, I listened to the moaning as we mounted the hill. 'I feel sick! I think I'm going to vomit!' were regular cries. However, suddenly the weary child dropped the most incredible phrase.

'I can't believe I'm doing this when I'm not even going to get a certificate for it!'

What!?!?! Are you kidding me? What do you mean you're not even getting a certificate for this? Do I offer certificates for other school holiday activities? Does the activity only find it's value in what recognition you get afterwards?

I've got to say, I was truly shocked that my child felt that their situation was so much worse because they wouldn't get concrete recognition of their efforts. Did I fail as a mother in allowing my children to think this way?

Maybe, maybe not.

I promise you, I don't give out certificates to my children for getting dressed in the morning, having a shower, playing in the playground or even being kind to a difficult house guest.

However, their sporting clubs give my children certificates or 'rewards' for getting through a term of weekly lessons. My children each get the chance to be 'student of the week' at school and are guaranteed at least two certificates a year from their classroom teacher. The maths program our school uses gives the children weekly progress certificates that they can print out and put on the wall. When my son does his ICAS tests later this year, he will get a certificate of participation, no matter what score he gets.

I have a large plastic tub full of certificates, 'special memory' book and even a trophy or two for my kids. The only certificates I received were for piano exams and the one I received during Year 10 careers week for being the "Best Interviewed Student". I didn't even get a certificate when I was 'Checkout Operator of the Month' at Safeway Blackburn North - what's with that?

Somewhere along the line, my child has concluded that you only push yourself hard when you know there is a tangible reward at the end. The fact that they were engaging in exercise, exploring the neighbourhood, seeing their mother on a bike for the first time ever - none of that was rewarding enough. But a piece of glossy paper sent through the printer would make it right? How did this happen!

Well, as I pushed my own bike up the hill, I thought, 'Things are going to have to change'. I need to make less of a fuss when my children do things that are 'normal, everyday activities'. I need to stop doing a congratulatory song and dance every time my children clean their room or get through a day without physically or verbally attacking their sibling. I also need to model doing things without expecting gratitude or recognition, because that is how life is sometimes. Oh - and bribes - I probably need to stop telling my children that they will get a treat or be able to watch t.v. if they clean their room.

My hope is that if I get the balance right, my children will start to do great things because they enjoy the experience in itself or recognise the long-term benefits of engaging in the task, even if it is unpleasant in the short-term.

One day, my children are going to have to persevere with their school work, or keep going with a monotonous task at work and they won't be given a shiny certificate to recognise their efforts. If I don't start changing my childrens' expectations now, we all might be in for a rough road ahead!

The best option is still not going to be easy

Today I helped a much-loved family member settle into an Aged Care facility.

It's a beautiful place. Lovely gardens. Bright, spacious rooms. Caring staff. Close to her friends, church and hairdresser. Her room looks so homely. It's full of her own things, her hand-made quilts, photos albums, ornaments. The place will even let her cats live in her room!!!!!

It was something that my family had been working toward for several months. We had been watching the decline of Beryl* over time. We had liaised with doctors and the local pharmacist to ensure she was on the right medications and taking the correct doses regularly. We installed a medical alert system at home. There were family members and neighbour's checking on Beryl every couple of days. But a major medical crisis late last year brought Beryl's independent lifestyle to a screeching, traumatic halt.

Seeing the impending crisis and knowing that we needed to be ready when Beryl needed greater care, my family had been discussing different scenarios. Was it realistic for Beryl to stay in her home? Did Beryl need to move in with one of us? Could we manage Beryl's increasing medical needs? Did we need to find an Aged Care facility for Beryl to move into?

Having looked at the situation from every conceivable angle and chatting with a variety of medical professionals who were working with Beryl, we knew that our only option was to locate a suitable Aged Care facility. We didn't know where to start. What forms did we need to fill out? How much would permanent care cost? What kind of place would be suitable? How do we go about finding vacancies? 

To cut a 5 month story short, we found an Aged Care Consultant who listened to our concerns, understood our priorities in finding a suitable Aged Care facility, showed us the paperwork we needed to fill out and gave us a list of facilities to investigate. Employing the services of an expert in Aged Care was one of the best decisions we made. The fact of the matter was that no-one in our family are experts in navigating the Victorian aged care system. Between my family members, we are experts in education, counselling, administration and data management. We are experts in our own fields, but not in the field that Beryl needed. Trusting someone else to help us navigate the 'system' wasn't always easy and we had a few hiccups along the way, but we had to admit that we didn't have all the knowledge we needed to make the right choice.

So here I am, at the end of a very long emotional week. After looking at 4 different facilities that each had their strengths and drawbacks, we decided upon one that ticked every box. Even after we had moved in Beryl's favourite furniture and nic-nacs, I sent a text to my sister saying "we are doing the right thing aren't we?'. To which my she wrote back, 'of course we are, she can't go home because she can't look after herself.' 

When I spoke to Beryl late this afternoon, she was a pretty upset with me! She didn't like the facility we had chosen for her. She thought her room was small and dark. The people were unfriendly. She genuinely believes that we have made the wrong choice for her. However, Beryl's age and stage of life means that she can't possibly understand all the factors that we took into account in placing her in this particular Aged Care facility. She is responding to her feelings and observations from just a few hours in a brand new environment. She needs time to reconcile her expectations with the reality and to appreciate the benefits of where she is now. It's possible she may never appreciate why this particular place stood out as the only place we felt comfortable with. But you know what - I'm okay with that. My family have done our absolute best with the resources and information we had available to us coupled with our genuine love and concern for Beryl. 

Selecting the right educational option for our children is a similar experience. We know and love our children. We know how we want them to feel about school. So we ask for advice and hunt around to find the right place for our child to spend the coming year of schooling.

If your child has come home from school today feeling disheartened or nervous about the year ahead - remember how carefully you chose this particular educational option for your child. Remember that you did everything you could to give them a great year. Don't let a less than enthusiastic start to school discourage you, but keep encouraging, supporting and listening to your child as they get stuck into Term One.


*Not her real name

If you have genuine concerns about your child's ability to manage the pressures of the year ahead, give me a call on 0425 792 189 for an obligation free chat about the options before you.

   

It's the end of the world as we know it (And I feel fine)

In 1997, R.E.M. released a song called 'It's the end of the world as we know it'. It was released on the eve of a new century. Email was just coming into vogue, although only the most tech-savvy Australians had email addresses. Nokia was THE mobile phone brand to own - although most of us left our mobile phones switched off in the glove box as they were too heavy to slip into our pockets. Furthermore, the call rates were so exorbitant that we never made mobile phone calls unless our car had broken down or our parents were calling us to ask us where we were.

But man oh man, did we have worries back then. As the year 2000 approached, murmurings began of the Y2K bug. We were told that computer programmers had forgotten to factor in the turn of the century in their programs. On the 31st of December, 1999, when all our electronic devices clicked over to the 1st of January 2000 there was the risk that our computers would think it was actually the year 0000 and at that point they would malfunction. People had visions of bank account balances vanishing, their faithful IBM compatible home computers fizzing into oblivion and worst of all - the equipment in plane cockpits would malfunction causing planes to fall out of the sky. (If only we knew what 2001 would bring) As 1998, then 1999 ticked over - we all waited, wondering what exactly 2000 would bring. It could possibly be 'the end of the world as we know it'.

Those of us who are old enough to remember this era can look back and laugh about it now. There was so much hype, so much suspense, we were so nervous. Then it was the year 2000 - and the panic was over. We wondered what we were so worried about.

Sadly, we can have this approach toward Year 11 and 12. As students enter into the final phase of their secondary education, there can be a nagging fear both for parents and students that if things don't go well, it could be 'the end of the world as we know it'. A lower Year 12 mark could mean no hope of entering university, career options will be limited and there could be a risk of......(Insert dramatic music)....unemployment. We are so spoilt in Australia. We have access to such a huge range of government subsidized tertiary education options that we forget that tertiary education is not a mandatory step after Year 12. We feed ourselves and our kids the lie that career happiness lies in a job that requires a university degree. Yet I can introduce you to several lawyers who are not experiencing career happiness despite years of university study. Meanwhile, today I met a bunch of guys at JB Hifi who are blissfully happy in a job that only requires they have great customer service skills and can develop specific product knowledge on the job. What would you want for your teenager's future? Unhappy, stressed lawyer? or Happy, relaxed customer service provider?

We place so much emphasis on doing well in school, particularly in year 12, that we begin to believe that to not get into the chosen uni course could spell disaster. You may chuckle and shake your head and say 'no, no, it's not that extreme.' But tell me, how many of your friends have mentioned that their teenager has experienced at least one 'meltdown' due to the pressure of schoolwork in the past year. Why are so many Year 11 and 12 students on medication for anxiety and depression? This is not how it should be. We are placing too much pressure on our students to do well and we are allowing our children to put too much pressure on themselves.

REALITY CHECK:

• Not all careers require that you complete Year 12 with a high mark. Not all careers require you to have even attempted Year 12.

• A great ATAR score is the not the sole determinant of a happy future. It may get you into a highly sought after Uni course - but is that what your teenager really wants? 

• There are several ways to get into higher education courses that are not solely based on your Year 12 results. Some tertiary institutions look at personal aptitude, skills and work experience as part of their prerequisites. 

• Year 12 does not need to be completed before a student's 18th birthday. Perhaps they need a break for a couple of years and can return to study at a local TAFE when they feel ready to commit the time that Year 12 requires.

• There are schools that focus on getting a student ready to enter into an apprenticeship whilst they are completing Year 11 and 12. The focus is less on academics and more on manual skills.

If I had the choice between watching my child battle with schoolwork-induced anxiety and depression versus taking a relaxed approach in Year 11 and 12, I would certainly choose the latter.

If you have a teenager in your household who needs help in lowering their stress levels and taking a more balanced approach to their school work, call me for a free chat. Louise, Exploring All Options, 0425 792 189.

All good things take time....

I love my doctor. I first found out about her through a close friend. She and her parents travel 20 minutes, past multiple other medical clinics to see her. When you arrive at our doctor's clinic, you can be pretty sure that you will wait an extra 45 minutes or so past your appointment time in order to see her. Funnily enough, no one complains, or gets annoyed about it, because we know the truth about this doctor. She is REALLY GOOD at her job. She doesn't rush you in and out of her clinic to get through as many patients as possible. She sits, she listens, she ponders, she asks questions, she checks things on her computer, she reviews your medical history over the past 5 years, orders extra tests if necessary and then, and only then, she gives you her diagnosis. Her professional opinion is worth waiting for. It can be trusted as it is the product of time and consideration. No one minds waiting 45 minutes to see her, because you know that every patient is getting the benefit of her time and care. If someone needs more time, she'll give it to them, just as when I need extra time, she'll give it to me. As the patients accumulate in the waiting room, we just nod and smile at each other, we're happy to wait, knowing that everyone benefits when we give our doctor time.

However, do we afford the same privilege to our children? How often do we ask our children to 'hurry up', 'get moving' or 'c'mon'? We impatiently stand over our children as they wrestle with their shoelaces, not allowing them the time to tie them securely to last out the day. At school, we tell our children to hurry up and start working, without giving them the opportunity to ensure they have all their equipment. We don't give them time to mentally plan what they need to do to complete the task, let alone giving them adequate time to complete the task at their own pace. Then we reprimand the children for not giving their work enough thought!


They shovel down only part of their lunch as they don't want to miss a moment of precious play time. At the end of the school day, we wrestle our children into the car so that they are on time for their after school commitments and then we wonder why they are moving so lethargically across the gym floor!

We try so hard to fit the maximum number of educational and recreational opportunities into our kids' lives but as a result, they never ever get the chance to feel that sense of achievement that comes from doing just a few things well. Instead, they rush from one task to the next commitment, just doing enough to get by.

What are we achieving in always pushing our children?
Why don't we organise our mornings in such a way that the last 15 minutes isn't a frantic rush out the door?
Why must children always complete their work quickly?
Why can't we give our children more time to play?
Does it matter if our children don't join the basketball team AND do piano lessons?

Is it possible that we rush our children around because of our own anxieties for our children? Are we so driven by the desire for our children to do their best, be the best and achieve the best that we spend the whole day rushing them from one activity to the next?

What would happen if we just gave our children TIME?
What sort of story could my daughter write if she was given an open-ended time limit within which to prepare, plan and write her story?
What sort of maths problems could my son solve he was allowed to just work quietly at his own pace without been asked to call out answers as quickly as possible?
What games could my children invent after school if I wasn't standing over them demanding they complete their homework before they play?
What conversations could I have in the car with my kids if I wasn't distracted by the time and our potential lateness?

I have a suspicion, that if we gave our children more time, they would certainly do a smaller variety of things. But the things they did do would be more enjoyable for them and reveal their true abilities and talents - simply because they've got time to work on a few skills and demonstrate what they can really do.

Does one size fit all?

I've been spending a fair bit of time in the high school science room lately. It's not my natural habitat. My own high school years were spent hanging out in the music room and reading history text books for fun. However, here I am, sitting on a stool at the back of the room, laptop in front of me, taking notes on living organisms and learning how to balance chemical equations.

Every now and then, the science teacher will tell us to put on a lab coat ready for a 'prac' (prac: a science lesson where students get to put on safety gear and pour harmless substances into beakers and watch it change colour). Lab coats are an interesting phenomenon. They are labelled as 'one size fits all', and to be fair, most students slip on the lab coat, button it up and proceed with the prac without any further thought. But then there are the students who have not yet hit their teenage growth spurt. The lab coat hangs off them like a toddler putting on their mother's wedding dress. Some of the kids even need me to roll up the sleeves for them so they can make use of their hands during the prac. At the other extreme, there is me......I like to wear the lab coat as it helps me blend in a little more. I prefer to not draw attention to the fact that there is a middle-aged woman lingering around the science room taking notes. However, having borne two children and eaten a few too many pastries whilst reading the aforementioned history books, my frame is on the larger size. The lab coat sleeves don't quite reach my wrists and there is a slight pulling sensation across my hips. Between me and the year 7 kid, it's quite clear that the lab coats should be relabelled as 'one size fits most'.

I'm not about to write to the science department and complain that their lab coats are discriminatory to the smaller and larger than average wearer. Let's face it, the lab coats were bought in bulk to fit the average high school student at this particular school, not to cater to every possible body shape and size. The notion that a garment can be labelled 'one size fits all' is unrealistic. There will always be people for whom the garment will not fit, for a myriad of reasons. We all get that, and we don't expect the 'teenage-sized' lab coat to magically modify itself to fit the small year 7 or the robust 41 year old woman.

Schools and their educational philosophies are a little like the science lab coats. They are built to serve the needs of 'most' students in their community, but there will always be students for whom a particular school or educational philosophy will not work. You can tell there is a mismatch between the school and the student if the student is constantly stressed about having to attend school, the student is continually falling behind in their work despite the best efforts of the student, school staff and their parents or there is a mismatch between the future aspirations of the student and the aims of the school. A school that boasts academic excellence and high ATR's may not be appropriate for the student who can't wait to leave formal schooling and start a trade. A school that has an incredible array of extra-curricular activities may not suit the student that just wants to focus on their studies without other distractions.

As parents and educators, we need to look at our children and critically assess what is the best educational option for EACH INDIVIDUAL CHILD, not what is best for 'most children'. If you suspect that the educational institution your child attends is actually not working for them, it might be time to start looking around and exploring the other options. Just like the science lab coats don't fit each and every students, educational institutions can't be expected to suit each and every student either.

louise.c.griffiths@icloud.com