Rentrée Moments

Some people are organised. They get everything prepared the day before. Bags are packed, clothes are laid out neatly, even ironed neatly. They wake serenely on time and waft about in a relaxed state of well-being and happy anticipation.

However, I don't know anyone like that. Including myself. Especially myself actually. My youngest went back to school on Thursday. On Wednesday I asked him if he wanted me to take him to school the next day. Affirmative. I didn't think about anything else really because he had no list to prepare, and it's still summer; he's been rampaging about in summer clothes for the last 2 months and the weather wasn't set to change. Except it did. So he needed socks.

Socks. I bought him 10 pairs back in June. That's 20 socks. Disappeared, evaporated, spontaneously combusted, dissolved in the washing machine, blown away on the wind, left behind chez daddy, grandparents, campsites, holiday homes, cars, trains... who knows! We found 1. One sock, not one pair. This was at 8.15am.

I didn't panic, I got annoyed. This is a great way to start the rentrée, getting annoyed with one's darling youngest on his first day back at school when he'll be starting a new class, new teacher with new stuff to get used to. Maybe he'd been feeling apprehensive. Maybe he'd have liked to have a quiet discussion on the finer points of integrating a new classroom.

Maybe, but he didn't get either. He got shouted at instead. How can 19 socks disappear? This has to be one of the worst cases of Disappearing Socks ever. Many people are mystified at socks going into a washing machine in pairs and coming out as singles, as though some massive Entity of Separation splits them asunder and consumes one out of every two. We have a more evil Entity at work which operates outside the washing machine as well as inside it.

The Sock Absorber and Evil Sock Asunderer have obviously been targeting my youngest's footwear. It's the only explanation I can come up with for such astonishing loss.

In the end, we found an old pair of white socks so he was able to go to school with comfy feet. To celebrate our luck, Ulysse puked an entire dish of food just next to his bowl as we were walking out of the door. The sod.

When I came back at lunch time, my cleaning lady who I'm never sure when she'll turn up, was there. She had cleaned up the puke (hurrah!) and she'd answered one of the great questions of the universe - where do all the socks go?

Under the sofa, apparently.

Not all of them, natch. That would be too convenient. But the sofa draws them in, tucks them away, and keeps absolutely quiet about what's it's doing. I'm now wise to its little ways however. Ha! It won't be getting away with that again, I can tell you!

The rest though, it's still a mystery...

Eastpak or Bust, Mummy

I undertook the typical life in France with kids annual treat of buying school supplies for la Rentrée yesterday, eldest strongly in tow.

Last year I was spared this mega chore because his school had thoughtfully subscribed to Scoleo.fr where the teachers give a list of supplies to the website and parents can log on and get the whole load bought and delivered in the twinkle of an eye. Sadly, my eldest has had to change schools and the teachers at his present one can't be fagged to budge from their usual habit of yelling 'Same as last year!' to the Vie Scolaire team as they rush out the door for the summer holidays. Vie Scolaire then just photocopy the right year's list and send it out to parents. Of course, they could post the list online themselves, but habits die hard in l'education national... There seems to be scant regard to consider the cost of stamps in all this...

It took 3 hours, 5 shops, and quite a bit of hanging about. It didn't help that I had to replace the phone my eldest had lost in the summer (while at his dad's), and the paperwork for that always takes a while. We were also doing the weekly shop in Carrouf, but what with the need for indoor sports shoes, outdoor sports shoes, an Eastpak bag ('€48 but it's got a 30yr warranty, mummy. Pleeeeease!'. 'And I'm sure you'll test it out, son'...) all from different shops because of the prices, I was greatly in need of my evening swim and glass of chilled rosé at the end of it.

It could have been worse, though. I learned a few years ago that the list of supplies by subject is a total nightmare because you have to keep counting up the total number of the same items required. I now put it all in a spreadsheet so the totals are immediately visible - large-squared writing books, 96 pages: 8.

Anyway, that particular chore is over for this year, for my eldest at least, although I'm sure more demands will come in at the beginning of term, and my youngest will have a small list too once he goes back to school. At least they don't have to wear a uniform. One must be thankful for small mercies!

La Rentree de Moncherimoncoeurs

All noses are back to the grindstone now the boys are back at school, and for the moment, no one has gone on strike.

It may not last, however, as the teachers' unions are revving up to make a Big Fuss about declining numbers of teachers and rising numbers of pupils per class. My youngest, in CE2, has two teachers this year - one doing Mondays and Tuesdays, the other doing Thursdays and Fridays. Hopefully neither will go on strike...

Also revving up to make big fusses, apparently, are parents. It's the pushy parent syndrome, French style. An article in Le Figaro tells some fab stories of parents who will not accept their darlings can do any wrong, and even if they do, it's up to the school to clear up as it's our taxes which finance their jobs... The little darlings are referred collectively as 'Moncherimoncoeur'. One such was forever breaking up the school toilets and the mother was summoned, whereupon she said that if MCMC breaks the toilets 1000 times, it's up to the administration and teachers to fix them 1001 times.

Another wrote in to say that 'We have worked. MCMC knows his lesson off by heart, it's out of the question that he copy it out again. We think that this harassment should stop immediately.'

Other parents believe that teachers should be more involved in bringing up the kids, to make up for, I suppose, the lack of parenting they get at home. So, on the one hand, parents have over-exaggerated demands on teachers whilst being totally laxist, parentally, themselves, and it's the lawyers who are the worst behaved.

It's all Lionel Jospin's fault - how nice to have a scapegoat! In 1987 he brought in a new set of regulations to schools which put kids at the centre of education and accorded parents the role of 'Parent d'élève' which made them an integral part of the whole education community.

This, in hindsight, was a disaster, and Sarko has promised to abolish it, but it's probably too late. Pushy parents have got the bit between their teeth and it's unlikely they'll let go now. In some respects, this can be good, because there are some terrible teachers. If they had carte blanche to do as they liked, the situation would be no better and probably much worse (for the kids they taught).

Many teachers are not motivated, are not interested in developing lessons with new technologies or changing any of their habits. If it aint broke... But it does mean that kids can go through 4yrs of collège in the 21st century and barely flick a finger over a keyboard. They don't even learn to type!

It is heartening, though, that there are other teachers who believe in education and motivation to learn. They strive for excellence and spread their expertise as widely as possible on the internet. One such is Dr Raynal at Toulouse University who has set up a super website specialising in SVT lessons (science). Especially good are the lessons for 3e. He also has a series of links to websites for other subjects. Thankfully, it only takes a few on the internet, for a maximum to benefit.

We live in a fabulously democratic age.

Scoleo.fab

I have just had the most pleasant experience buying 'fournitures scolaires'. Impossible, perhaps? Mais non, not in this wonderful internet age!

Would you believe that schools have also embraced it in a sensible way? I know, it's difficult, but bear with me. Some bright spark has come up with a way to make life easier for the parental nightmare that is Back to School. Yes, I nearly fainted with relief too.

Back at the beginning of July I got an envelope in the post from my eldest's school with information on a site called Scoleo.fr. I had the vaguest look at it because, frankly, La Rentrée was about the furthest it could be from my mind. Instead I was concentrating on Going on Holiday preparations.

Now that I'm back, that envelope came to mind again, and luckily it did now because any later and it would have been probably too late. Last year I made an Excel spreadsheet with all the stuff I had to buy for my eldest. It was necessary because I had a list of what was needed for each subject. This meant I had to go through the whole list and count off the number of 'grand cahiers 96 pages' and then put the total on the sheet. Going to the supermarket with just the list is guaranteed to send you insane (been there, done it...) so I grouped all the same supplies together.

This morning I sat down to find my spreadsheet and start again for this year but couldn't find it on my computer. I must have run it off at work... I was just about to create a new one when I saw the information about Scoleo and the important information that prices are comparable to those of supermarkets. Ah ha, thought I, this sounds like a Good Idea!

I went to the website and found the school - they have to register first - and found that all was prepared, listed, and modifiable if needed. Wow! They even provide labels, both sticky and iron-on. If your child is careful with his stuff and keeps his compass/protractor/ruler from one year to the next you can remove these items from the list. Mine breaks everything or loses stuff or it gets 'borrowed' so I just left everything as it was.

You can even buy a special school bag (only primary school available this year) which has been specially designed to be light, sturdy and the right size, and complies with all the requirements set by the Ministère d'Education Nationale.

It took me a couple of minutes of stress-free clicking to buy all the supplies needed for September, and the grand total including the labels was 96€ which is indeed comparable to supermarket prices.

You cannot imagine the relief at not having to plan an assault on the supermarket, wondering if I've got it right as I stare disconsolately at shelves of similar stuff (a bit like buying cat food). No, it's done and dusted and will be delivered during the last week of August.

HURRAH!

Rentrée 2008

La Rentrée. Today, schoolchildren all over France were wending their way, many with their parents, back to school.

My youngest was going into CE1, which means he's no longer in the 'baby' class of his primary school and can lord it over all the little new kids. He made no particular effort to dress for the occasion. No smart pair of slightly too big trousers all beautifully pressed. No gleaming white shirt with collar and buttons. No, my hero went in his football shorts and Arsenal footie shirt.

Our new neighbours, on the other hand, were impeccably turned out, with brushed hair to boot. I had only just managed to get my son in the shower the day before. It was pretty warm here, so I'm glad he took the casual approach to clothes for his first day.

Perfect mummies like to dress their young'uns as young men. It's very popular here, especially with families in the big houses. What I say is, they don't do their own ironing, so it's easy to have beautifully turned-out kids. I let mine choose what they want to wear, and they never ever want to wear shirts with collars, which lets me off the hook quite nicely thank you!

Apparently he had a good day, and has made friends with the new neighbours who seem to be very nice boys. I thought he would be going to school tomorrow too, but how wrong I was. They have the morning off, no idea why, and start again on Thursday.

On the other hand, my eldest starts his new private school tomorrow, so is unavailable to bro-sit. Not sure if I can get him into childcare or not. Maybe the teachers will all go on strike on Thursday just to really get back into the swing of things. There's usually some Rentrée issue that brings them all out in force.

Or maybe it's just that the shock of going back to work after 2 months off is just too much for them... Yeah, I think I'd be keen to strike too!

Defining Moments

Here are 10 defining moments of my recent holiday to Blighty, in no particular order.

1. Having dinner with my boys and little bro in a local Chinese restaurant. A first ever occasion of this type.
2. Tidying out decades worth of clutter with my mother from the garage.
3. Trying lavabread fried in Welsh bacon fat.
4. Watching the boys rampage over ruined Welsh castles with their cousins, my littlest kitted in a 'chain-mail' helmet.
5. Finding a dead rat in the garage.
6. Going to the tip and chucking out a car full of rubbish in a sudden torrential downpour.
7. Eating freshly picked, bursting with juiciness blackberries from the garden, with cream and meringue.
8. Being greeted after a long journey the day before then a long drive to Wales with a dinner of Welsh salt marsh lamb.
9. Being shrieked at by the Original Welsh Witch over a small bag of rubbish.
10. Looking out over London from the Greenwich Maritime Museum.

And a special bonus because this is my blog and I can make up the rules if I want; getting goodnight text messages from my recently met TotallyWonderfulDearlyBeloved (TWDB).

This is not the sum of my holiday of course, rather ten moments which define this particular trip.

It's already a week away, and yesterday I was buying a long list of essential items for my eldest for his new school. Paper, pens and stuff. In a week, it'll be La Rentrée and I'll have to work out how to take him to school and get to work on time. I foresee difficult mornings ahead!