Hothousing, the easy way!

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Today I have my MUMMY BLOGGER hat on, albeit perched jauntily on the side of my head.

For yesterday I emptied my bank account into various establishments that run extra curricular activities for children.

Now don’t get me wrong! I am no tiger mother. I am more like a chimpanzee mother, batting the kids away when the nagging gets too much. But I am the mother of two lively sons, both very different in their taste of sports, so yesterday we enrolled in tennis, rugby, ballet and of course Hip Hop. Getting a kid into a dance class around these parts is hard. First place we tried, we had to do a minimum of 2 classes if we wanted to take our place in the coveted Contemporary Dance class. Not two different classes of the same type, but Contemporary was a second class, as you had to take a separate Jazz class first to be able to do contemporary. My kid is 7.  The whole thing smacked of greed and I told them where to shove their Running Man.

In the nicest possible was of course!

So Hip Hop it is at a different establishment, plus Ballet at a fancy pants centre. These investments better pay off.

I also jokingly suggested on Facebook that I had also enrolled them into Reiki for Beginners and Art History, before I realised that some took that quite literally and that things written do not always come with sarcastic font. I was quickly told that my kids did too much. But that, my friends, was bull. They are doing intermediate pastry making. (I cannot help myself)

Round these parts, if you think of an obscure after school activity, there is no doubt a class for it.

The thing about them is that they can suck you dry, both in terms of fiscally, and emotionally, not to mention hours sitting in a car reading the instructions on how to use the pre-programmed radio settings manual that is in the glovebox.

So you must choose wisely, and take the lead when it comes to these things.

When Harry came home and told me that he had had an assessment for BAND, and the BAND LADY said he was perfectly suited to play the trumpet, and could he join the Band, I thought to my self that there was no WAY that instrument would ever darken my doorstep, but called his bluff. I told him that Band was a very big commitment, and would take up all spare time and that I was happy for him to take up the trumpet.

If he quit rugby.

Problem solved.

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Manipulating my children is not something that I am proud of, but I do believe that it is a necessity when it comes to my actual own well being. So I make no apologies for it.

And of course, back in my day we played netball. We had practice once a week, ran by some girls dad who had no idea what he was doing, and a Saturday morning game, where the highlight was the bag of mixed lollies from the canteen at the end. And that was that.

Nowadays, there is pressure on parents to make sure their kid is doing one sport, one creative art, one practical art, one language and one instrument on top of what they already do. And to that I say se faire baser!

How much is too much?

What happens at your joint?