All things Nicola…21 January , 2013
An unlikely weapon
A week or so ago we briefly met a guy walking a guide dog puppy past my parents’ house. Cute puppy…cute puppy walker too…anyhoo, Nicola wasobviously quite fascinated and kept referring to the guy as a soldier (he was wearing camo). Then I think the whole soldier thing got her going on a new flight of fantasy and she started thinking about the Pochahontas movie. Next thing we know she’s yelling to my dad that the savages are coming! The savages are coming!
I’m almost rolling with laughter but my dad is looking a bit puzzled (understandably), and asks a few questions to see if he can get to the bottom of this. Nicola tells him that we need to get some ice QUICKLY! He asks what for, and she tells him so that we can throw it at them to stop them.
Ask the question
In the afternoons when I fetch Nicola from school, we have a little ritual. Step 1, I give her a bottle of fruit juice to drink in the car on the way home. Step 2, I ask her how was her day? Who did she play with? What did they do at school? What did she have for lunch? That kind of thing.
Last week one day I was so tired and a bit distracted with my own day’s happenings I just gave her the juice, asked her how her day was and then left it at that…
About halfway home she says to me, “Mamma, ek het alweer brood ge-eet vandag, en ek moes alweer speel.” (I had to eat bread again today, and then I had to play again). *sigh* Mwahaha! I could think of worse lots in life than having to play and eat sandwiches every day, but at least I know she listens when I ask these questions.
We’re not meant to bend that way
I got a newsletter from school last week to invite me to my first ever information evening thingy.
The reason for the get together is that they are trying to sell us a program called Kwanda Kinetics, from the newsletter it seemed like it was some sort of baby/child gymnastics program and immediately my hackles were raised. (The newsletter also said that they were considering including this into the school curriculum in the near future).
That is really the bit that pissed me off in advance if you have to know.
I DO NOT want my child to do gymnastics now, possibly ever actually. Every person I know who did gymnastics properly as a child now has back problems. Most of them even have the same back problems, namely scoliosis. I can’t say with medical certainty if gymnastics gave it to them, but coincidence seem a bit to convenient for me to entrust my child’s spine to the program blindly.
A bit of googling told me that your odds are 5 times higher getting it if you’re a gymnast than when you’re not – that’s enough to seal the deal for me. It’s NOT happening. The end.
One of the ladies I work with said to me that Nicola will be very upset with me. She’ll say everyone is doing it, and it’s a lot of fun! I said that I don’t think that’s a good reason to do something. People say that about drugs too, and I’m going to encourage her to avoid that too one day. She can forgive me when she’s pushing her friends around in wheelchairs when she’s 40.
I went to the evening, I listened, I questioned, made it clear I wasn’t going to let my daughter do this if it was anything to do with gymnastics. The lady said that they teach them the right way to do these moves, I said the articles I read said that it wasn’t incorrect movement that caused it, just repetitive ones…when she told us that she also treats people with scoliosis the one father asked her jokingly if she was trying to generate repeat business.
So, just some average pandemonium… ;-)
Go teach the children in Russia gymnastics from 3 years old, I’m not having it near mine. I told the principal as well. Make it part of the school program and take away my option, and I will move Nicola to a different school.
We’ll see what happens. (Yes, I am aware that I am most likely making a mountain out of a mole hill – I still feel quite strongly about it though, so I’m not budging on this).
At least she didn’t inherit my lack of sense of direction
Sometimes when we’re driving around I’ll tell Nicola that we’re going to turn left now, or right – whichever the case may be. It doesn’t happen that often though – seriously, I think I’ve done it twice all the way from school to our cottage (+/- 3 km), and that’s that.
I’m not sure if they’ve been carrying on with something similar at school but she surprised me last week by telling me! She’s got it down perfectly!
If you ask her which hand is her right hand, she can tell you with no hesitation whatsoever…but when you ask her about the left she takes a few seconds to decide. I guess she’s orientated the whole thing around the right hand-side, so by process of elimination decided which one is left then? (Hahaha, much better than what I used to do to decide. If you asked me as a child I always used to look at my hands because my right hand had a beauty spot on, and that’s how I knew).
The other thing that Nicola does which is pretty amazing if you consider that she can’t actually see the road from where she sits, only the tree tops, is that she knows exactly which way we need to turn from her school to our house – or even from the school to my parents’ house. She doesn’t make one single wrong call on which way we need to turn.
Amazing if you ask me! She definitely knows her way around better than I do.
A particularly good hair day… I wish I had hair like that!
On the trampoline with my aunt’s dog, Rose.
Ouma, reading a story to Nicola and our cousin Nathan.
Jumping – Natalie, Nathan and Nicola (we seriously didn’t plan the N-thing, it just worked out that way).