Pinot, Bretzels, and Cathedrals

I know, I know… two in one day, you must be wondering!  I’m sorry.  “What are you letting your children do while your husband is away, and you get to do all this writing?” you may ask…  Well since I have just seen le petite monster throw a cup of water over an electric fan that was in motion, they have both been banished to their bedrooms, and ice-cream is now off the cards, I am no longer obliged to leave the apartment, so here I am again (in between cleaning the oven and packing away washing).

(And making a cup of tea.)

During the last week of the holiday, a large group of us mommies took our kids to the park.  Do you have any idea how important it is to reacquaint your children with their friends before the new school term starts?  Can you just imagine the crisis that they might have forgotten what each other look like?  Of course, this had absolutely nothing to do with us mommies seeking out adult conversation. Nope.  None at all.

The Pirate Park at l’Orangerie was choc-a-bloc full of all ages of kids.  We floated around chatting to each other, between sand-pit fights, cup-cakes hand-outs and toddler melt-downs.  For two hours, it didn’t actually feel like I was an ex-pat, and there was no language barrier.  Secretly, I happily coveted the idea that I was now safely settled into Year 2, and I felt somewhat empathetic to the brand new ex-pat from America, who was laughing about pouncing on any hint of English being spoken at the supermarket, and crying in the meat aisle while trying to figure out the difference between poulet and dinde. 

Yes, I actually felt a sense of belonging, or achievement, that we have staked our space in our little international French city, and it was comforting.

Of course Tuesday was the real test, when school started up.  At one school, I was an old hand- I knew my way around, I could stop and greet a handful of other mums, and for the most part, mon petite monstre was relatively comfortable in her environment.

But 800 meters down the road, Alex and I were the newbies… where do you park your bike; is it safe to leave your bike outside school; where do you wait for drop off; where do you wait for pick-up; what is protocol with hanging around to chat?

Honestly, the first day was the most horrific few moments of chaos I have seen in a very long time.  (I suspect my colleagues at Compass Group feeding the ANC Congress in December 2012 know what I experienced 😉 ).  Gratefully, us newbies were allowed into the playground, and into the classroom- the first and last time for this I might add-, so we had a chance for photos, and meeting the teacher, and then I was back on my bike to make sure I had Beth settled in her class by the appropriate time. 

Alex has settled in quite happily- she has made a new friend from a class above her- and she appears to have no hang-ups at this stage.  We have access to homework books, which have to be signed weekly; these encourage us to observe what is being learnt during the day.  So far, there is no real homework to speak of, though I suspect I may be learning more French this way than attending lessons on my own, and if Alex and I learn together, then all the better. 

She starts with English classes on Monday, and I am quite interested to see what the syllabus will look like.  As it stands right now, her education is so completely different to how we were ever taught in the 80’s.  I am pretty sure that by the time I started school at her age, I did not know how to form letters, and cursive writing was only started in our second year in school.  I recollect my first read words were along the lines of Jip the Cat, and Meg the Hen.

While Alex cannot actually read yet, and is not inclined to learn to read English readers phonetically with me, she recognizes several names on my phone, and in the media.

Below is a letter she asked me to help her write to the Tooth-mouse (after she lost yet another tooth this week.  When I say lost, I really mean LOST- it was smacked out of her mouth on the school play ground, and I don’t think she actually looked for it!). 

I had to spell most of the words for her, and occasionally show her what some letters looked like.  It intrigues me that she has written it all herself, somewhat higgledy-piggeldy, in various different forms, and I had to bite my tongue when some of it was wrong. 

Here’s a question though: should I be worried that her writing is all over the place?  Clearly something has been taught, but nothing is constant.  Is it possible that her habits can be changed?  Because her writing even puts mine and my Dad’s to shame, and you know how popular my hand-writing was at school.

At the same time, I know that across the Chanel, the English kids her age have been reading and writing for two years already.  English friends- what is your take on Alex’s letter?

I guess I should stop worrying- she is 6 and a half, and is one week into official French schooling. Things will change, that I can be certain.  It is very strange though, to be doing this in a different country, where you just don’t really know what the norm is. It really is just another reminder of being an ex-pat, in’nit? 😉

And before I click the “publish button” for the second time on this piece, I am really sorry that you’ve had to endure a flooded inbox from me today.  It’s what happens when you have taken liberties in allowing your kids to play on their own for too long.

And lastly, I really am looking for a little feedback today- please feel free to let me know your though if you have any.

Till next time,

xxx