ARTICLE
Sink or swim
by Karen Luckhurst
Daily Telegraph, 10th June 2006, Page 12
Karen Luckhurst learns a lesson in the bathroom.
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Inexplicably, I decide to take a bath in the middle of the afternoon. Not a practical quick dip, but a deep, indulgent pool filled with fragrant, expensive bubbles and just the bearable side of too hot. I take in a cup of tea and a book and lie back for a soak.
The door catapults open and Sam appears. I am astounded at my stupidity in failing to lock the door.
"What are you doing, Mummy?"
"Riding a bicycle," I reply. Five years old, and he is already immune to sarcasm. "No, you're not," he says and drops the Mega Blok he is holding into the bubbles. "Look, Mummy, it floats."
This reminds me of an experiment I have been meaning to do investigating objects that float and sink. I sense a learning opportunity. Spontaneity is the key to home educating. I am often asked how I find time to juggle teaching with looking after three small children. The general assumption is that home education is like school, only you do it around the kitchen table with cups of tea. In fairness, this is roughly where I started. It took a while to realise that the systems that are in place to teach large, mixed-ability classes of children are not applicable in a home environment, where an adaptable approach when children are in the mood can be worth hours in front of a blackboard.
This going-with-the-flow approach to learning is usually convenient, but not always, as I am discovering from my bubbles.
I ask Sam if he thinks the back-scrubber will sink or swim. Enthusiastically, he throws it in. It floats.
In quick succession the soap, two shampoo bottles, three toothbrushes, toothpaste and Daddy's deodorant enter the bath.
Then I hear an ominous giggle. The baby, who is to water what a beetle is to dung, is standing in the open doorway. He can't believe his luck. Usually he is forced to limit his own version of this experiment to the loo. Off he goes in search of items with which to ruin my bath, collecting three-year-old Zena en route.
Soon half a bucket of Lego and the K'nex hedgehog we made earlier are in the water. Things are beginning to get out of hand.
"Sink or swim?" Zena chirrups happily throwing in her shoes. "'ink 'im," huffs the baby, adding a mud-covered ball, a ladybird carcass and a nappy - unused, thankfully. It is when the loo roll goes in that I decide enough is enough.
"Out," I screech, exiting the bath and propelling three splash-soaked heads out of the door, which, too late, I remember to lock. I survey my formerly lovely bath, which now resembles a ditch. My book is wet, the tea is cold.
Still, at least we've done that water experiment.