The half term break is almost upon me. Last week at work was high-stress. However, the weekend was a rich reward and I got through. Prague weekends (even with toddling twins) refresh.
I don’t really know what this blog is about any more. I get very little feedback from readers, although I can see that people ARE reading, which is great. It would be lovely to get a few more comments – what would you like to hear more about? I mean, am I right in thinking that toddlers are just not that gripping? They are not your toddlers, and all toddlers are toddlery, and are amassing new skills all the time. To say that “Toddlers acquire new skill!” lacks originality is a bit of a non-sequiter.
I have always needed to write. When I was young, I kept a diary. I think I will need to throw them away in the end, as no one else ought to see them, ever. I really laid everything bare in there, and can’t even remember what I wrote or felt. I’m not sure I want to read them. Now I write this blog, and even if my readership is small and silent, it still helps me- it orders my thoughts and helps me process emotion. I am the sort of person who has written many outraged / heartrending letters and emails to people who have, offended, hurt or generally mistreated me- without needing to send them to make me feel better. The process itself is cathartic (ok, so I often begin with the intention of sending, but almost always have the prudence to wait till I have had a sleep or whatever, and find that I wake thankful that I only imaginarily said / virtually wrote /drafted my excruciatingly emotive/ deeply personal slaying/ scathing analysis of incompetence etc addressed to the offender. Those imagined readings are enough to help me work through my feelings, usually assured that it is not SUCH a big deal.
Back to now.
So I had the formal lesson observation from my head (one who doesn’t know me – based at the other site in the north of the city); there was a random open day when prospective parents could simply walk in; and in addition, there was parents’ evening (till 7pm). That’s 3 things in a week which subject me to intense scrutiny. That’s a lot on top of the usual duties I contend with.
Furthermore, I’m not the sort that thrives under such conditions. I work well under pressure if the task is, say, writing an assignment for a deadline. But ‘live’ nerves make me ‘do something stupid’ – like not being able to recall what I wanted to say, and instead of winging it, getting paralysed. It was always the same when I was singing in my teens and early 20s. I watch X factor and marvel at the confidence these whippersnappers have.
My work observation went well, however. Very well! I think I have managed to successfully transfer jobs, without cracking. It has not been easy. One of my most difficult students it turns out, is so advanced he’ll be moved up to the year above. We tried it yesterday (the parents suggested it after seeing at the open day that some of the children are only just able to form letters (expected level for their age)). The class dynamic was fantastic without him (he was the only one in the room defiantly not on side) and his two little sidekicks forgot about messing about and worked on their tasks. Having him in a class working at his level, with good behaviour all around him worked better for everyone.
Going back to me, confidence, or the lack of it, has really handicapped me in exploiting my talents- in particular my singing voice. I’m not so badly off and do have a job I love, but I would love to have has the courage to make a go of my singing in some form or another. I was always like a plank of wood when performing; paralysed. And I always keenly felt the ridicule of my father, who detests pop music. Mum would drive me to rehearsals and gigs, but we never had enough exposure for me to overcome my nerves. I still lack self-belief and I’ll be 40 before too long. I have sung at friends’ weddings, and gigs, which I enjoyed on the whole, but even in a relaxed setting I almost always find I’m plagued by my other problem: forgetting the words. I wonder if I’d be able to overcome that with enough rehearsal?
I have one (40-year-old) friend who was 31 when we met, many years ago. She was on the verge of being a rock star, she told me. She still isn’t a rock star and I’m not surprised. I never really liked any of her songs, and it would seem others felt pretty ‘meh’ about them too. But she plugged on and on and on for years… She only stopped when she found a new (and perfect) platform for her exhibitionism: she is a resident DJ with a penchant for stripping off. While it’s a job that I’d not ever want to do and that I’d be 100% terrible at, I do envy the fact that her salary matches mine and she works just a couple of evenings a week. What’s my point here? Well, I suppose that confidence is so highly valued, sometimes (often?) over ability. Not that I want to raise a pair of conceited little bumholes, but I want so much to instil self-confidence into my girls. (Maybe not that sort of famous-for-wapping-yer-baps-out ‘confidence’ – don’t think of that as the sort of career I dream of our girls having). I want them to feel their worth. If they want to do anything, I hope their lack of confidence is not something that holds them back.
Going back to singing, the girls have started- donor was a karaoke king (no confidence issues there) and I have some ability. We have heard ‘twinkle twinkle’ and ‘ABCD’, but the favourite seems to be ‘Rain, rain go away’. They are just toooooo cute.
Anyway, no chance for me to sing at the moment because I can’t go out in the evenings. That’s a decision we have made for now – AW is firmer about it than I am. That is probably because she has put them to bed alone, and Olive screamed for two hours without me and my milk-sacks. I’m not sure I’d be impressed with that if I were babysitting them, so she is probably right. I think we could go over the road though while my mum is visiting..? There is an old cinema across the street which has huge armchairs and serves champagne. It’s starting live shows too, and I want to go to the burlesque one for our 5 year anniversary (which was yesterday). We could easily pop home if there were an olive incident (but she would almost certainly be asleep before we left (show starts at 8)… Anyway I digress.
I hope that wasn’t dull. I guess it might have been. I have added a ‘parenting’ category, so I think I’m drifting into eyeball-peelingly yawny blog territory. Don’t leave me! Sometimes life is boring, I suppose!