Posted on by shutthefarmgate · 1 Comment

Boarding School

Sport at boarding school

It has been a week since we have had our youngest son home from boarding school. He was home for school holidays. We get to hang out with him for two whole weeks. It is always nice to have him home as he likes everything I cook him and he enjoys doing things with us. I am sure this would be different for any other normal 15 year old boy who doesn’t go away to boarding school.

As they all did, while away at boarding school, when they come home they appreciated their family, their home cooked meals and their freedom on the farm. And from my experience over the years I am certain that when they get back to school they are happy to be there with their mates, doing things with them 24/7. Some holidays we go away and they love that but they also appreciate just being at home in their own bed.

We are lucky we are only three hours drive away from the city where they are schooled. We are also lucky to have the technology of mobile phones so we can keep in contact with our kids at any time we like. Unlike the old days when ‘handsome farmer husband,’ was away at school. Once a week, they had to line up to ring their parents from a big old black phone that was stuck on the wall and letters were the regular way of communication. If they were lucky they would see their parents through the school term, but more often than not it would be the end of term when their parents came to collect them that they finally saw them.

All of our children went to boarding school. It was something I thought was important, even though I never attended one myself. I had to argue my case strongly and would bring it up regularly when the kids were young. It was a much discussed subject while driving to the big city with my ‘handsome farmer husband’. Even though he went away for schooling himself, he wasnt sure about it being possible. Obviously cost was a big factor and we had to send four of them. We did have to make some sacrifices in the early days.

I know he knew well the benefits, because during his 4 years at boarding school he made long lasting friends from far and wide, his education improved along with his confidence and and back in those days he had lots of fun experiences. There are many stories he tells about his time there. Many will stay untold until all the children are actually finished school, just in case they want to follow his example.

With hindsight, my children are not exactly the same personalities as their father and so I should not have presumed they would all be fine like he was. I was so confident that it would be good for them all to learn some independence away from their mother, who by the way is a pushover and does way too much for them still.

It was a learning experience for all of us. Our eldest probably had it tougher, being the first cab off the rank, but the youngest was like a duck to water. Every child gained something important from their time away. They are all confident, independant people. We now have three who have finished their Year 12 successfully and since finishing boarding school none of them have looked back.

For two years we only had our youngest child at home. Three at boarding school and one at home. It was very peaceful and there were no arguments over who was doing what jobs around the house. We also had plenty of hot water and the grocery bill was very low.

Now we are back to three at home and one away and it is a very different story. With three big (sort of adult) children home it is interesting. We have a big house, but sometimes its not big enough. We have a big hot water service but sometimes, not big enough. We have a reasonable size fridge but not big enough and the list goes on.

Recently there have been many discussions about the length of peoples showers, why they are always in their rooms and who unpacked the dishwasher last, who cooked last, who fed the cats and the chooks, brought the wood over, who did or didn’t put the rubbish out, who didn’t flush the toilet or put the toilet seat down and the list goes on.

We are teaching them to cook so they can at least feed themselves once they leave the nest. It has been challenging but fun. Everyone cooks once a week. The meal gets a rating out of 10. It is rated on taste and appearance and we try some new recipes along the way. Cooking dinner also entails the clean up and tidy the kitchen and pack and put on the dishwasher as well. ‘Number one son’ is very clever as he tries to pick a Friday night to cook, this is very often the night he is out with his mates. Generally everyone has a go, without too much complaining.

I am grateful to have them home for as long as I can. It is lovely to see my boys walking back from the shed chatting to each other after a day at work or hearing my daughter laughing with her big brother while they are cleaning their teeth at night. Sometimes they even help each other cook. I will make the most of those little things, store them in my memory bank. Soon they will be out of our house, back out into the world, independant young adults. Then before we know it ‘number four’ will be home from boarding school. The countdown is on.

Posted on by shutthefarmgate · 2 Comments

A trip to the shops

Shopping for groceries, some people love it, some people hate it.

When the kids were young, a trip to the supermarket was not an enjoyable outing for me and something I definitely didnt look forward to.

Living out on the farm meant loading the kids into the car and driving into town.  The timing had to be right and all the loading and unloading was exhausting.   I had to load two babies and one toddler into the car and buckle them in. Make sure I had the pram, the nappy bag, a spare change of clothes (you really just never know) three favourite toys, a drink bottle or two, my list and my purse.

When I got to the supermarket I then had to unload.  It was a bonus to get a park out the front.  I got the pram out, two into the pram, then the eldest beautiful child out last, so he didnt run off.  The nappy bag, drinks, favourite toys, my list and my purse.   This took around 20 minutes and I hadn’t even got into the supermarket.

In my supermarket they had a twin trolley.  It was very helpful when my twins were babies.  They sat up top and their older brother sat in the trolley, until we ran out of room for food, then he had to walk.  This mostly worked well.   I remember saying a lot of “no put that back” “Don’t touch that” “stop poking your brother”. “No you can’t sit in the front”. “No you can’t push the trolley” “You can have some fruit, you do not need lollies”.

Even on the good days when no one was crying, or there were no tantrums, I rushed through the list as quickly as I could.  There was a small window of calm with ‘three under three’, some days I made it, others I didnt.

Being able to shop in our little country town supermarket was both a blessing and a curse.  It was embarrassing when the two year old toddler had a tantrum,  because everyone knew who you were. It didnt matter which one it was,  at some stage they all had a turn (yes, all four of them).  My only, ‘favourite’ daughter, may dispute this.

I can clearly remember my eldest son howling on the floor in the fruit and vegie section because I wouldn’t buy him some cherries at $16 a kilo, he didnt like cherries.  He wouldn’t move and screamed louder when I tried to touch him.  Because I was a local in this little country town the blessing was they all knew I hadn’t kidnapped him or anything like that.  No police were called, instead a couple of lovely girls tried to help.  They just watched him lay on the floor crying while I rushed through two isles getting the essentials. The whole shop could hear him screaming.  I was mortified.  No one else took any notice. Finally I went back and got him, I paid for our groceries and got out. ‘Number one son’ didn’t calm down until I got him in the car.   Then as every normal two year old does after a tantrum, he promptly fell asleep.

On the good days, shopping in the supermarket where I knew everyone was also a blessing. Locals shopping and staff, always said hello to the kids.  They would stop and ‘goo and gaa’ at the twins and give chocolate frogs to my ‘number one son’.  This was lovely, but also, in turn made the whole experience an hour longer because not just one person stopped to chat but every person you came across wanted to say hello to us.

I think the experiences of taking four children shopping have scarred me. Even now that my children are grown up, stay home and look after themselves, grocery shopping is still something I do not look forward to. I have a list. I get in and get out. Head down, don’t make any eye contact with anyone, get my food and go home. Its not because I am in a rush or because I don’t like to chat. I think it is an old habit from when the kids were little. I do not ‘dilly dally’ in supermarkets.

The other day in the supermarket I stopped to chat to another ‘beautiful farmers wife’ who was shopping with her young boy, he is a cute little rascal. She was very calm about the many things that he kept bringing her to put in the shopping trolley.  She kept chatting to me as she told him to put each item back, every time he came up to her with something clutched in his hands and a big smile on his face. She was so calm and had all the time in the world for me. I admired her relaxed attitude.  That day my ‘farmers wife friend’ was an inspiration. She could have taught me a thing or two in my early years.

It seems like a hundred years ago that I was in the middle of the time warp of having four young children.  Every little outing took a long time and lots of organisation.  Shopping with small, busy children was always interesting, to say the least.  Some days were easy, some days were hard. The harder ones seem to stay stuck in my memories.

Lately I have tried to change my anti-social shopping habits. I try not to rush, I take my time and try and walk each isle. I make eye contact and chat with the staff and other people who I know.  I am starting to see shopping as a nicer job and to be grateful that I have time to slow down a little. It is certainly still not my favourite outing, but these days I am trying not to hate it as much.