My boy the pro-goafer?April 26, 2011 at 9:18 pm | Posted in Daily Life | 1 Comment
Tags: Education, Growing up, pro golfer, Schooling
Our little bundle of joy is going to turn big-boy three in a few months. And those personality cells are multiplying thick and fast.
From ‘I’m a stegosaurus mummy, I will eat you all up’ to ‘oh deary me mummy what is the matter’, ‘wind the pink sheep up’ and ‘oh those flowers are beautiful mummy’ we’re graced with dozens of gems from his growing vocabulary each and every day.
I’m not sure how I feel about confessing to this next bit. But here goes.
I’m starting to feel that I could be a pushy mum. I know it’s disgusting isn’t it. And I blame golf.
For bear’s first birthday he had a plastic golf set. £3 from Tesco. Alongside the inflatable paddling pool filled with plastic balls it has been my most successful purchase to date.
It lives at Grandma and Grandad’s house. Grandad is well into his golf.
I think my dad would agree that we haven’t forced this activity on him – he loves being outdoors. He’d live in the garden. He’s had a little gentle encouragement and coaching but no four-hour tuition sessions in the pouring rain don’t worry. Just light hail showers.
But it seems that our nearly three-year old has the swing of a potential pro on him. The stance, the style and pretty much everything else needed to make it big time. Cha-ching.
No stop, stop, happiness is the key. He’s just a child, he has mud pies to make, ants to catch, knees to scrape.
But when do you start thinking about what your child enjoys and shows natural talent for and when do you start considering how to carefully encourage them in the right direction?
Are the children who go on to do marvellously well the ones who were nudged and helped to make choices, or are they the ones who are left to their own devices? Does it all come down to the standard of their education or does the determination of the child to succeed have a part to play?
All of these questions. I think these thoughts have been somewhat barged along having met a mother at the coffee shop recently with a nearly five-year old boy who knew the alphabet at one, could read at 15 months and was working his way steadily through chapter books at two. I know – what did this woman eat when she was pregnant?! A salmon a day?!
So the biggest question on my slightly cracked lips is – will our son turn out to be a pro-goafer rather than a pro-golfer?!
For now I shall just concentrate on flapping around like a pterodactyl, making lumpy cookies and generally having poster-paint smudged fun. He’s still just a baby.