I’ve been a bit (very!) quiet on here recently. This is for a variety of reasons that all come together and mean I’ve been very busy, and the blog has been a bit neglected.

The good news, is that one of the things I’ve been working on getting finished is the book, and that was self published on Amazon and went on sale yesterday (link here). It is very surreal to see an idea I had when I started this blog come to fruition. It has much, much more than the blog and has allowed me to develop ideas, add research and put all the information that we needed when our children were growing up into one place.

The other reasons are helping our youngest revise for his A-levels (by helping, I mean passing lots of cake, apples and chocolate and trying to persuade him to go through past papers with him), a fabulous new job, and, last but by no means least, completing and submitting my first doctorate assignment.

The assignment was a reflective piece about teaching, education and how/why I ended up doing an EdD. This was a really interesting assignment to write, and looking into my own square peg status was eye opening and cathartic. I read research about adult women with ADHD (either self diagnosed or medically diagnosed) and how we need to keep doing more and more until everything comes crashing down. I disagree with this, and I feel that I need to keep my plates spinning as a way of keeping myself balanced. If I have too many, then they may come crashing down, but having the right amount of plates to spin means that my brain is focused and I get more things done.

I feel a slight shift in the blog too – while I will keep blogging about children, education and stories about my life, I think it is a natural progression as my children become adults to look a the adult square peg too, and share some of the things I find while I study over the next couple of years.

Please comment/message/find me on social media if you have ideas or requests, and I will do my best to cover them. I have been quiet on here for a while, but this is one of my most important spinning plates, and although it has been a little slower recently, I’m back, and I’m spinning again!

I often write when things are going wrong because it helps me when I write, and also because I think it’s important to move away from toxic positivity and Instagram #SoBlessed vibes. Other times I write when we have overcome things and I feel the need to share the journey (X-factor style). Today is neither. Today is about everyone having a time to shine, and things falling into place.

Our eldest did not have it easy at all when he was at school. Diagnosed dyslexia, undiagnosed ADHD (and probably undiagnosed ASD) made formal education really tough. The first attempt at uni didn’t go well either – after his first year he had to leave on mental health grounds. However, his second attempt was successful, and he graduated this year with a 2:1. Because of the time he had at school, before he graduated he started working as a SEND Teaching assistant, and now he is a full time SEND tutor at an independent special school, and will continue with more training & a Masters degree. He loves his job, he loves the work, and he is making a difference. Because he has lived what many of the young people are going through, he has empathy and understanding, and he can also show what can happen because of where he is now.

Our youngest has also found his place. The UCAS application is complete, submitted and offers are already arriving – even though the deadline is not til mid January. He has struggled with formal education. English Language & writing for the sake of writing, and English Literature (reading and analysing books other people have chosen for you) were always very difficult, but now, in year 13, just 7 months away from A-level exams, his grades truly reflect his ability and potential. He still finds school hard, and I think he will really fly when he gets to university, but his grades means that he has been able to choose any university to apply for.

Our eldest is 26 and our youngest is 18. They have found their niche at different times in their lives – and they may change their minds and adjust their sales and end up going in a different direction, but we can look at them both and know that right now, it has come together for both of them. They are exactly where they should be, doing exactly what they should be doing.

However, looking back, they have always been exactly where they needed to be. Even in the darkest of times (which were very, very dark at times), they were learning things about the world or about themselves that has led to where they are now. Life isn’t all pretty and nice and smooth. It is a rollercoaster of highs and lows. It is good times, bad times and ‘I can’t see how we can get out of this’ times. Sometimes the good times last months, sometimes just minutes – and the same for the other times too.

Some of you who are reading this will be in a dark place. Some of you may be looking at your skware pegs and won’t know what to do next. We have been there. We may be there again. But today, maybe just for today, it feels like it has all come together.

I can’t quite believe that it’s time to write this post, but our last ever first day back is just 3 days away. For the last 23 years, the end of August has been full of back to school shopping but now this is it. The last one. Our baby is going into year 13 on Tuesday, his last school year. This is the beginning of our year of lasts, and I don’t quite know how I’m going to cope with it all.

At some point in August 1999, I went to the school uniform shop at Barlborough Hall School and bought a teeny tiny blazer, track suit, book bag, rucksack and swimming bag for our then almost 3 year old. I was a full time student, my husband was an accountant, and for the next 2 years, my student loan alongside nursery vouchers were going to pay school fees at Barlborough. The choice to go there was partly because our local state nursery couldn’t give us flexi-hours, and we had to choose mornings, afternoons or full time, it was partly because the day nursery I was using while I was at university charged for holidays, and I worked nights so didn’t need childcare in the holidays. It was also because Barlborough is just the most beautiful school, housed in an Elizabethan mansion with huge emphasis on pastoral care, and once we looked round, we couldn’t say no.

The first day at Barlborough Hall was Tuesday 14^th September 1999, 5 days after our eldest’s 3^rd birthday. Our youngest’s last day will probably be on the 30^th June 2023 (the prep school is part of the Mount Trust, alongside Mount St Mary’s College, so it doesn’t feel like two separate schools just one educational path from 3 through to 18), and I remember joking years ago about when the time came for him to finish, we would have spend almost 24 years – almost half my life – with the school family, and here we are, with just under 10 months more to go.

Our youngest passed his driving test over the summer holidays, so we have asked him if we can do one more school run each on Tuesday before he drives himself to school – and I’m sure that’s going to feel so emotional.

Over the next few months, there will be ‘one last’ bonfire night, Christmas carol concert, parents’ evening, panic over revision, exam series, and then speech day and the leavers’ ball. It was hard with our eldest, and I know that this year will be harder.

We have made fabulous friends on this journey, and we have met some fantastic teachers. This year, however, doesn’t just mean the end of education, it means the end of an era, the end of a huge, important part of our lives. Additional needs and health problems for both of them has meant that we have had to be more hands on and involved in their lives than some other parents may have been. They will always be our boys, they will always need us, but at the end of this year everything changes, and we have to let go.

It’s going to be an amazing year. I am going to make sure that I take the time to take in every moment, take endless pictures in my mind and let myself bask in every emotion and feeling.

Here we go, for one last time.

It’s that time of year again. We are just about to start the third week of August, which means that Scottish Highers were out last week, A-level results are out on Thursday, so GCSEs will be out next week. All around the country, teens will be opening an envelope or email that, right now, feels like it contains their future. Everything depends on those letters and numbers. The future depends on those marks on a page.

Except, actually, it doesn’t. They mean everything right now, but in a month, a year or a decade, they will mean very little. As seems to be in keeping with my August blogs, let me tell you a story….

One August, not that long ago, a severely dyslexic teen went to get his GCSE results after a particular turbulent summer. The results weren’t very good. Two were above C (because it was pre 1-9 days), and the rest below. The college of choice now looked unlikely, but sports skills and a charismatic personality meant that he could go, but not on the first choice of course. Fast forward to a year later, and the resits were no better. After getting Functional Skills level 2 in maths and English he tried AS levels, but the following August brought more disappointment.

A year of voluntary work, and then a year of sports coaching meant that he enrolled into uni, but the course was wrong, the support wasn’t there, and after a year of struggling depression hit, and he had to leave. More work, an apprenticeship, more work and things were ok, but not fantastic. His mental health was still fragile, and OCD was the next hurdle to manage.

OCD was under control, and things were going reasonably well, and, er, COVID! Covid meant that work dried up, and a combination of furlough and forced isolation allowed time for reflection and refocusing, and time to really go for what he wanted.

He enrolled on a degree course during Covid. He worked hard, but with a combination of Covid restrictions and lots of online lessons, it was sometimes hard to work hard, but he did, and he persevered.

Fast forward to August 2022.

Another August, another results day.

August 2022 has broken the mould. August 2022 has brought a 2:1, job interviews and all sorts of opportunities. To quote his FB post:

“If you’d have said to me 10 years ago I would have a degree at this point I would have 100% laughed at you & thought you were joking but here I am with a FdA & a 2:1“

I didn’t do particularly well in my A-levels, and in 2 months I start a doctorate, and no one in the interview asked me why I only got Ds and Es, instead they were interested in my life experience and what I’ve done since then.

That’s not to say we need to underestimate how important this month is. When our teens get their results this month, they mean everything, they will change trajectories, and we need to be there to support them. But in the long term, in 5 or 10 years, this will just be a distant memory and a story to tell.

We had our first family fortnight since 2019 booked in Cornwall for the beginning of July. We were all going, us, the boys and our eldest’s fabulous girlfriend. We splashed out and booked 2 weeks in a luxury lodge in a small hamlet with a rather nice village store, and we had 2 weeks of sun, beach, books and food all planned.

We arrived on Friday evening after a detour through Plymouth, and our eldest and his GF arrived a bit later. Our eldest was tired, but he had been working all week, had had a strong man competition the week before, so we put it down to that. On the Saturday he was still exhausted – more than I would have expected, but we still put it down to fatigue. Then he coughed. For some unknown reason I had packed LTFs, so I got him to take a test. It was positive. We had avoided Covid for almost 30 months despite working in schools, being in school full time and going into offices, and yet on the first full day of our dream holiday, we had a positive test. Luckily the rest of us were negative, and our eldest didn’t feel too bad.

We looked up what we were expected to do, and basically we could carry on as normal! We didn’t though, he stayed in the house or went to empty beaches, and we went and bought packs of disposable masks so that if we did have to go out (to buy food!) we could mask up and throw away the masks when we got back.

On the Tuesday night our youngest felt rubbish so we did a LFT at midnight and it was negative. The following afternoon he was exhausted so we did another test – positive. Two down, three to go……maybe.

We changed our plans again, doing late evening walks along the beach, avoiding anywhere with people but still trying to enjoy the holiday. We were swapping lodges on the Friday so we had to be out for the day, so we were all out that day, but tried our best to avoid people, and our youngest masked up all the time, even in the heat and humidity.

On the Saturday it was my turn. I felt a strange fatigue, I was too tired to read, even, so I did a LFT and I was positive. By this time the boys were feeling better, and were venturing a little further, but still masked and avoiding crowds – although listening to beach conversations before I tested positive, I think there were lots of people down there who were positive but weren’t doing anything to stop the spread. On the Wednesday my husband tested positive, and on the Thursday we came home.

Although I am grateful that we all had it very mildly (thank you NHS and vaccines), I was an absolute sh*tter to have it on holiday, and to have our plans change again and again. Our youngest found it difficult – and he has been low since we got back, and I’ve struggled to accept that our dream holiday was staggered isolating in a lovely lodge rather than visiting different places and doing different things. It was enforced change that none of us could do anything about. It was tough, and frustrating and, well, sad. I know that Covid has been far, far worse for so many people, and I am so grateful and relieved that we all had it mildly, and to be sad about something that could have been much worse makes me cross with myself – but it happened, we’re all ok, and we still have the rest of the summer to do things.

I’ve had an imaginary conversation with someone (we’ll call them Bob) that went something like:

Bob: So, how old was your child when you went away for a weekend without them?

Me: 17

Bob: Weeks?

Me: No

Bob: Months???

Me: No

Bob: Days??????

Me: *nervous chuckle* No, 17 years.

That’s how old our youngest was last weekend when we got our weekend away in York. We last went away, just the two of us, 19 years ago for my 30th, and we went to London and saw Madame Butterfly at the Royal Albert Hall. We dropped out oldest (who was our only at the time) at school, drove down to London, had an amazing evening, and then drove back early the next day and were back by lunch. The last time we had 2 nights away was 26 years ago when I was pregnant with our eldest!

I had an overnight at a conference when our youngest was almost 2, and our eldest didn’t speak to me for a couple of days, even though I brought him back tacky tourist presents, and my husband has had to work away, sometimes (but thankfully rarely) for a week at a time, but we haven’t managed to get away, just the two of us for a very long time.

There are various reasons for this. The main was that both our children have had health issues, and sleep issues. That was the first stumbling block. They also have additional needs that made it much harder for us to get away – and by the time health issues were under control and they slept, they were used to us not going away, and the thought of us (me) not being there for a night or two caused an enormous amount of anxiety.

The anxiety was the main reason – and their anxiety fed my anxiety. To an outsider looking in, our youngest doesn’t look that anxious. He is ok at school, but could not go to sleep overs for years, and even now doesn’t like them. Where many children explode, he implodes and when things get too much, he has terrifying stress migraines and vomiting which can last for several hours, and once they start, they just have to run their course. Until he was 16, we camped in the lounge, sharing an L-shaped sofa (heads together so there was contact) at least once a week. When anxiety causes that much upheaval, there is no way we could just disappear for a weekend.

Money was sometimes an issue – a weekend away isn’t cheap, even on a budget and when the family holiday budget is small, a weekend away is just too much.

Another issue is that we didn’t ‘need’ a weekend away. We have been together for 32 years this summer, and married for 27. What we do works for us. We are a unit. We have been through some traumatic times, health scares, hospital stays, ill children, SEND, battles and more, and we are as strong and as happy as ever. We love spending time with our children, always have done, and we both really missed them this weekend.

Leading on from that, at no point this weekend were we unreachable. We messaged them when we left home, when we arrived at York, checked in after school/work, messaged goodnight……..and we also answered their messages and calls straight away. The main plus point of two days without the kids is that we could go into places that would cause sensory issues – we ate at a fish restaurant, we went into second hand book shops that were full of that second book smell, we went into a noisy bar, we went for walks that went on for AGES, we went to cafes and it was fabulous.

However, two days was enough, and it was lovely to get back home on Sunday afternoon. We did it, we went away, the kids were fine and took care of the animals. They didn’t fight or have any fall outs, and it worked. We may have waited a long time, but it we did it when the time was right for all of us, and it was stress free for all of us. Everyone is different, every couple, every family have different needs and expectations. We know what works for us, and we will keep on doing it our way!

At the moment I am trying to write the ‘Skware peg’ book – it will be much more than the ramblings on here, and at the moment I’m doing lots of research, looking at peer reviewed journal articles so I can write a mix of what’s happened to us as a family and current theoretical thinking.

Anyway, I digress. Part of my research has been to talk to the skware pegs that I know to ask them what they wish their parents, wider family, carers and teachers knew. Some of it was what I expected (treat them as individuals, don’t think you know what they’re going through, adapt what you teach so that they can learn), but interesting answers came from our children.

I have blogged (& blogged) about their highs and lows, so if you’re not familiar with what they’ve gone through, grab a cuppa and scroll through my previous posts. However, having watched them go through what they’ve gone through, what they wanted people to understand wasn’t quite what I had expected them to say.

Our eldest wished people were more patient, and would see beyond their perception of his behaviour – at work, in education and at home (gulp!). He explained that people interpret his behaviour (or lack of action) as a negative thing, where actually it’s not that he hasn’t done something, just that he hasn’t done it yet. An example of this would be my nagging him to tidy his room. I am messy, but his messy on a good day is like my messy on a bad day, cue my nagging to tidy, him saying he will and then me getting cross a few days later when it hasn’t been done.

His point is that he hadn’t ignored my request, he just hadn’t got round to it because he had been focused on something else. At school he was told off for not finishing a task or not doing as he had been told. For him this was a similar situation. Either the task was too big for him to know where to start, or he just hadn’t got round to finishing it. At home, at school & there have been examples from work, he was told off for not doing what had been asked. From his point of view, either there hadn’t been a clear timescale given, or he had been distracted by hyperfocus in another area. I am trying to be better at giving requests now, and will give clear, specific instructions. I may say ‘by 5pm I need a bag of rubbish and a small bag of recycling out of your room’ which is much easier for him to follow than a vague ‘tidy your room’.

Our youngest wants people to stop underestimating him or thinking he’s naïve. He might be quiet for much of the time, he might not go out very much, but he is very aware of the world around him. He is incredibly savvy when it comes to local, national and international politics. He has very strong views (fully researched) and likes to debate and discuss all manner of topics. However, some people, peers as well as some teachers, don’t see this, and he would like people to look beyond the mask, and see the intellectual individual he is.

I can relate to these things. I have had friends stop inviting me out because I either couldn’t go or on that occasion not want to go. I don’t find making small talk particularly easy, but I’m not shy. I don’t drink much alcohol, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like to have fun.

We all look at people and make judgements, even if we don’t like to admit it. We probably all think that we know people and how they think and feel. We probably don’t. We need to empathise, look beneath the mask, make requests clear, and we need to stop underestimating people.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about Strictly Come Dancing (link here) and how incredible this series has been. This post talks about the 2021 winner so if you haven’t watched it yet, don’t read this post!

I’ve just watched the final, and I have been close to tears all the way through. Because of injury, it was just Rose Ayling-Ellis and John Whaite in the final. Rose is a deaf actress, and an amazing dancer. She said in the final show that she doesn’t have any extra time than the other dancers, so her partner, Giovanni Pernice, and the other choreographers have to teach her in a way that she can learn – and she has to work incredibly hard. She won because she was an amazing dancer. She dances with such amazing joy and grace, and incredible timing. The partnership she has with Giovanni is something else – there is a unique connection and it is breath taking to watch. She didn’t win because she was given easy dances or simple routines. She won because she is an incredibly talented actress and dancer.

The other couple were the first all male partnership on Strictly. John Whaite and Johannes Radebe didn’t assume the lead and follower roles in their dances; they re-wrote the way the dances could be danced. They swapped leads, they both lifted and were lifted. They didn’t get to the final through pity or easy dances. Like Rose, they produced amazing dances that had been choreographed for them.

My life revolves around Skware Pegs, hidden disabilities and advocation, both at home and at work. I want my learners to do well because I adapt the way I teach so that they can succeed. I don’t expect them to do well ‘despite’ their disabilities/worries/barriers. I try my best to adapt my teaching so that they can get on with learning. I try my best to never use a ‘one size fits all’ approach. I try my best to ensure that every learner I have has the best teaching I can offer that is right for them.

I think part of the reason why I found this evening so emotional is that Strictly has done this for Rose. Yes, she has had to work harder than I can imagine, but the team put every adaptation that was needed to make the playing field as level as possible.

John Whaite has been very open about the struggles he had when he was younger, the issues he had when he came out, and mental health issues that he has had as an adult. Seeing an all male partnership has broken down barriers, and will have given people hope. In a time when suicide is the biggest killer in men under 50, it has also shown men expressing feelings and vulnerability.

I have loved this series, but the two couples in the final have moved me so much. They have shown positivity, joy, hope and the magic that can happen when everything that needs to be done has been done. I am inspired.