Thunderthighs Sings

As I mentioned in yesterday’s blog, despite his autism, anxiety and reluctance to speak, we attempted to keep Thunderthighs in our nearest mainstream school. It was not a success. 

One afternoon after an upsetting meeting at that school I went to an assembly at Ferretfingers’ school where each child’s every achievement, however small, was celebrated. 

It broke my heart to realise that Thunderthighs would never be as cherished where he was.

 

I had a good relationship with the Head of Woodlawn. Sometimes you come across people who just get you, and viseversa, and he was one.  There had been a number of issues with and about Ferretfingers that we’d worked through with, and sometimes against, the local authority.   

I found him to be honest, trustworthy, and not afraid to speak truth to power, or parents.  

According to him I was a “stalwart” of the Parent Teachers Association, and we’d spent a lot of time organising fundraising events and the famous Xmas Pudding Fun Run.  

I didn’t want to risk upsetting or embarrassing him if he was forced to deny Thunderthighs a place.  So I wrote to our local authority's head of education pointing out that Thunderthighs Statement of Special Needs was not being met and suggesting that, whilst Woodlawn might provide far more than he needed, until a more suitable place was available, perhaps he could go there to make up for the past year’s lack of provision.  He started the day after the Autumn half term holiday.

 

It was like putting a duckling into water, he found his feet and took off.

 

The physical and digestive problems associated with anxiety and autism were taken seriously by the school’s doctor and on-site nurse.  It was so much better that going back and forth to our GP surgery and seeing different doctors who’d only had time to skim read Thunderthighs’ notes.   

I was given really useful, practical advice and emotional support at regular, scheduled consultations.

 

He made progress and friends and started coming out of his shell.

Halfway through his second year at Woodlawn there was a school concert.  As usual I went along and sat one seat in from the end of a row.  After the interval the Head came and sat in the empty seat next to me, which puzzled me a little.

Thunderthighs filed in with the rest of the juniors and sat at the back of the stage area between his mates Matty and Foxy, both considerably smaller than him.  Then he got up and took centre stage with Matty and Foxy standing hidden behind him.  Henlady played a chord on the piano and Thunderthighs, solo, started singing the first verse of Chimchimcheree.  Matty and Foxy jumped out from behind him when they got to the chorus and eventually all the juniors were singing along.

 

To see my anxious, shy, tongue-tied boy standing confidently singing in front of the whole school and parents brought such a lump to my throat I could hardly breathe.

My chin started wobbling and my hand went up to my mouth …

Then I felt some whiskers tickling my cheek as the Head whispered in my ear

“Gotcha!”

 

Thunderthighs Speaks

Despite his autism, anxiety and reluctance to speak, we attempted to keep Thunderthighs in our nearest mainstream school.   

It was not a success.  

He may have been with his ‘peers’ chronologically but they treated him more as a pet than a playmate.  I know because I was forced to go in and help supervise him at lunchtimes.   

The school eventually provided a one-to-one assistant; she was a childminder who lives in our street and when not with Thunderthighs served as a dinner lady.  She was apologetically aware that she had no training in autism or special needs and was frustrated that she couldn’t help Thunderthighs more.  She was as unimpressed as I that most of his one-to-one time was spent in the cloakroom cum corridor.

 

He made it through Nursery (the Nursery teacher was excellent), Reception and part of Year One.  Things came to a head in a meeting with the Year One teacher, the SENCO (Special Educational Needs Coordinator who once wrote a report saying “we need to illicit (sic) speech from Thunderthighs”) and our local authority Language Coordinator.   

The Language Coordinator was giving information on ways in which he could be helped, at which the teacher asked brusquely “Will this make more work for me?”

Even if she thought it, and it was true, it was a crassly tactless thing to say in front of a mother.

I said nothing but my thought was “If she doesn’t want him in her classroom I certainly don’t want her teaching him.”

The local authority had promised us a place in an ‘autism ark’ in one of their mainstream schools since Nursery but there never seemed to be a vacancy.  He was getting a lot less than his Statement of Special Educational Needs set out he required.

The same afternoon I went to an assembly at Ferretfingers’ school. 

There every child’s every achievement, however small, was celebrated. 

It broke my heart to realise that Thunderthighs was not as valued or cherished in his school.

 

I had a good relationship, via Parent Teachers Association meetings, with the head of Woodlawn and I didn’t want to risk upsetting or embarrassing him if he was forced to deny Thunderthighs a place.  So I wrote a letter (copied to appropriate councillors and other officials) to the head of education pointing out that Thunderthighs Statement of Special Needs was not being met.   

In it I suggested that Woodlawn might provide far more than he needed, but, until a place in an ‘ark’ was available, perhaps he could go there to make up for the past year’s lack of provision.

 

A few weeks later I was in school for some PTA thing and Henlady, a teacher there, came up to me saying

“I’ve seen Thunderthighs’ file and I’ve told the Head ‘I want that little boy in my class.’”

(That, dear reader, is why I love her.)

Shortly thereafter he went on a visit to her classroom.

There was a trainset out which immediately caught his attention

Henlady reported “He’d never seen a trainset in class before then Mrs S said that if pupilX got a sum right she would dance on the table.  Pupil X did so Mrs S danced on the table.  You should have seen Thunderthighs’ face.  He was astonished.”

It goes without saying that none of the staff at our nearest mainstream would dance on a table (except possibly in Ibiza).

Driving home I asked him which he preferred, Woodlawn or the nearest mainstream school.

“Woodlawn” he replied firmly and clearly.

He started the day after the Autumn half term holiday.

It was like putting a duckling into water, he found his feet and took off.

 

Some weeks after starting at his new school this happened.

My first cat, Dominic, had been put to sleep the day before the Millennium because he was very poorly and I didn’t want him to suffer if he deteriorated over the long bank holiday weekend.

That was December 1999.

This was December 2001, I was ironing and Thunderthighs was sitting on the floor near me.

Out of nowhere he asked “What’s happened to Dominic?”

Surprised I replied honestly “He died darling.  He was very old and very poorly so the vet put him to sleep so he wouldn’t be in pain any longer.”

He seemed quite satisfied with the answer.

A thought struck me.

The child must have been wondering and worrying about Dominic for nearly two years, but hadn’t the words, or the confidence to ask his mother about it.

I felt very sad and very guilty.

Short & Sweet?

 

From Facebook archives

11^th August 2013

Last night I had an Italian burger with garlic paste from the Benton Chippy for tea.  It was very nice but the garlic was pretty raw and rough and, although I can't smell it myself, I still smell and awoke to 

"You still smell darling".

And if Fester thinks you smell you must really stink.

This is by way of a warning and apology to anyone who encounters me today.

 

 

 

 11 August 2015

Just opened a spammy email

"Buy a Mac for uni. Receive a pair of Beats headphones."

thought

"Well you probably would need a new raincoat ....."

before I realised it was from Apple.

Is it my age do you think?

It didn't help that the next one up was from Barbour

The Squireen  I think you must need a new waterproof coat.

True Love?

From Facebook archives

10 August 2016 at 08:35 ·

Got Ferretfingers's lurgie.

Shivers and teeth chattering, cold and hot, cold hands and feet, aching between the shoulder blades and top of chest, arms like lead and achy too, horrid unproductive cough, no appetite (to each cloud there is a silver lining).  Have to sit down or lean somewhere after walking downstairs.

Going back to bed

Mrs Poet I am making you a virtual tea 🍇

Bazoukiboy Do you need anything bringing in?

Mrs Poet‎ to Bentonbag 10 August at 21:52

How are you, sick chicken?

Bentonbag  Spent most of yesterday in bed.  Spent most of night coughing.  Still got high temperature.  Not as bad as yesterday but not much better.

13 August 2016 at 12:31 ·

Still laid low at Chateau Midden.   

Still nackered, no appetite and coughing up green gunk.   

Have spent most of week in bed without even the hwyl to read.   

Now got pain in my side from coughing.
The basic chores ie washing up is getting done (I think) but nothing else.
"I'm going to have to do some washing soon or we'll run out of knickers."
"That's all right love, I've got loads, you can wear mine, I'm sure you'd get into them."
And they said romance is dead ...

Drummerman  Aw, bless...

Bazoukiboy  True love knows no bounderies...

National Citizenship and a Promise Kept

From Facebook archives…

😓feeling anxious.4 August 2013 at 22:39 ·

Ferretfingers all packed for his first week of National Citizen Scheme residential,

What will we do without him for 5 days and 4 whole nights!!

(bust not as anxious as this emoticon would suggest)

Drummerman Glad that your bust isn't anxious 😉

Bentonbag Sadie's got a lot to answer for 😜

5 August 2013 at 10:55 ·

So Ferretfingers and I are up at 7: me to make sure his packed lunch and himself are ready; him to get in as much screen time as possible before he goes.   

Drive him to Segedunum where he gets out, carries his bags to the back of the bus, hands them to the driver, goes to the front, boards and sits himself down in the front seat without so much as a backward glance.   

When I asked "Haven't you got a kiss for your mother?" he kissed the ends of his fingertips and flicked them at me.

9 August 2013 at 23:30 ·

Ferretfingers has just come back from his first residential with National Citizen Service, five days at a PGL adventure holiday camp in Lincolnshire.   

Catch 22 (the company organising it in this area) took the participants on a warm-up getting-to-know-you day last Friday and Ferretfingers wasn't too enthusiastic about any of the activities.  So when on Saturday afternoon he asked for a Battered Mars Bar in Benton Chippy I said "Only if you take part in all the activities next week".  

So he's taken part in almost everything (climbing, shooting, archery, orienteering) only jibbing at abseiling.   He climbed up but refused to go down the rope; to be fair I wouldn't have done that either.   

We've been talking about this and he's just come out with "and I'm having a battered Mars Bar tomowwow".

Those of you who have known me long enough will remember that in the summer of 1979 I worked fro PGL as a kitchen assistant at their canoeing centre in the Ardeche (France).

Drummerman Regrettably (For several reasons) you weren't the kitchen assistant on our PGL organised school trip to Austria & Yugoslavia in 1966.

Bentonbag I was 10, there is a limit to PGL's child labour policy.

Worked 'fro'!? Worked to and fro and for.

Bess Cavalier Yes, I remember you doing that.  I spent that summer working on an equipment inventory for the Institute of Geology.  The highlight was trying to work out how a Landrover got sent to a field team in Peru without any paper work.

Bentonbag I suspect I had more fun; lots of sunshine; cheap wine and Kanterbrau bier; fit canoe instructors/repairers to ogle (Ooh God the shoulders!); gorgeous countryside to wander about it; kids leaving disco every 4th night

Bentonbag Both boys had battered Mars Bar and chips for tea.  Disastrously both liked them. However I shall endeavour to keep them as a treat for very special good behaviour for as long as humanly possible.

 

PS Neither boys has had a battered Mars Bar since - at least not to my knowledge

Phone Bill

From Facebook Archives

7 August 2014 at 23:03

The phone rings.   

I pick up.   

A pleasant Scottish male voice asks for Ferretfingers Festerson.  

 I ask “Who is calling please?”.

"My name is Bill from BT Business Phone Book, Mr Festerson has been in touch about advertising with us."

I think he was quite startled to be met with gales of laughter followed by 

"That wouldn't be via a website would it?"

"Actually, yes, it was"

So I explain about Ferretfingers’ autism and apologised.

He said "I did wonder, he put the business name down as Asda Stores."

At least he wasn't trying to sell the house again.

Bill thanked me for cheering his day up no end and said he would take the enquiry off the system.

 

This evening, to recover from the excitement of sorting the garage, I had an early bath, put on my nightie and dressing gown and caught up on the things recorded on the tivo box.   

About half an hour ago Ferretfingers got sick of not having access to the tv.

"Go upstairs Mum, you're tired"

"Just a quiet day then ..."

And on his fifth day with us...

From Facebook archives

5 August 2016 at 07:49 ·

TEDDY HAS ESCAPED

I left a back top window ajar overnight and he must have jumped up and forced his way through.

If anyone in Benton sees him please contact/message me

…

and now of course the printer has run out of coloured ink so I can't do any more posters 😣

The Squireen Hope fully he realises you home is his now and comes back soon

Fay  Hope you get him back... He probably isn't far away and might just be holed up in a neighbour's shed... Xx

Mrs Quilt Oh Ben, I hope he knows how to come back home. Hopefully he's back already

5 August 2016 at 12:13 ·

He's back.
Took Ferretfingers down to Byker to get printer ink refilled.
He spotted the poster and was most upset; surprising as he takes little notice of the cats when they're here.
I came upstairs onto the computer.
Sudden shrieks of 

"Teddy's back, he's in the garden" 

and sound of back door opening.
Dash downstairs to see Teddy scuttling across the garden, into the back door, through to the living room and the food bowl.
Two sachets of cat-food later and he's purring and had a cuddle on the couch.
The windows are now firmly shut.

Bess Cavalier Sounds as if he's worked out where the staff live!

Mrs Quilt Was that a cunning ploy to get an extra sachet?

Mrs Melodeon Good news. He knows where life's comforts are to be found!

5 August 2016 at 18:35 ·

After this morning's excitement Ferretfingers and I took ourselves off to Howdon for Allotment Gardening and, on the way home, go up to Byker to pick up the refilled ink cartridges (not as good as new but considerably cheaper).
Turning right at the roundabout at the end of Chillingham Road a strange rattly noise starts under the back of the car.
"Oh God the exhaust's gone" I think.
Then turning right again to get to the Theresa Russell carpark the noise starts under the engine, in fact the whole underneath of the car is rattling and I can feel it through the steering wheel.  The last time the car made a noise anything like that was in 2008 when the engine mountings went.
Park up, look underneath but the exhaust is still there.  

Consider driving to Kwikfit and decide to call the AA instead.
Go to the ink shop. Ring Fester and he agrees to get the bus over and take Ferretfingers home. Ring the AA and have fun explaining where the car is parked. Thank goodness for googlemaps. 

Get ink. 

Go back to car. 

Fester arrives and departs with Ferretfingers and our goodies from the allotment. 

AA man gets to me 5minutes earlier than scheduled. Examines engine. The fanbelt is fraying. He cuts off the loose bits and - lo - the car sounds a whole lot better. 

I 'phone Kwikfit who say yes they do do fanbelts. 

AA man follows me there just in case. 

We go into Kwikfit and do the various bits of paperwork, and they say it will be done first thing tomorrow. AA man goes. I pick bag out of car and walk home.
Where I then have to spend half an hour trying to sort out Fester's mobile which keeps turning itself off!
What a bloody day!
I'm going to bed early tonight.
Alone.
After having drink taken.

Mrs Lasagne Early night and nice hot bath Ben xxx

Bentonbag I am going to do a little embroidery first for my soul's sake.

Mrs Leftfoot Just a quiet day then...