The penny begins to drop

My daughter has not fully realised just how much of her time school is going to take up. I'm quietly trying to discourage her from taking on TOO many new activities. One or two activities a day is very easy to fit into the diary of a home educated kid, but could mean stress for a schoolchild.

It's now school holidays. Yesterday she said she was looking forward to going swimming when the pools had got a bit quieter, so she and her friends can play together in peace and not have to queue for a shower. "How long until school starts?" she asked, "so we can swim when the pool isn't busy?" I reminded her that when school starts, she'll be starting with it. I saw her realise that there will be no more peaceful visits to the pool.

One of her friends told her about a couple of fun-sounding home ed trips his mum had booked him onto in the autumn. She asked me whether we could go too. "No," I said, "you'll be at school."

Last night she was deep into the details of her latest moneymaking scheme: sewing clothes for stuffed toys and selling them online. "Once I have my patterns done, I should be able to make two pairs of trousers an hour," she calculated. "If I work three hours a day, I'll be able to make six pairs a day. After paying for the materials I'll earn £12 a day, if I can sell them all." I said nothing. It seemed too unkind to point out that soon she won't HAVE three hours a day, not if she wants any kind of life outside sleep, school, and her new business venture. I guess she'll see that soon enough.

First day at school

She's done a trial day. The parents were friendly. The children seemed friendly. In fact, I think every single girl in the class came up to meet my daughter in the playground before school.

I took Small Fry (aged three) to play with some home educated friends in the park. They asked after The Kid, hoping she wouldn't be doing a very long stint at school. They wanted her as a regular playmate, and they knew they wouldn't be seeing much of her while she was enrolled in school.

Six hours later, out she bounced. She had done lots of fun things, she told me on the way home. The maths worksheet was far too easy but she could have a harder one next time. However, she did have a splitting headache - either from doing more close work than she's used to, or from the noise level. Children in her class are allowed to talk freely whenever the teacher isn't telling them something. I'm delighted to learn this, but hope it won't mean daily headaches.

The other problem: socialisation. You remember, the main reason children are supposed to benefit from school? It turns out that all those girls who'd been so eager to welcome her were members of different little groups. Each wanted to suck The Kid into her own faction. She said they'd been trying to turn her against the others. "You don't want to be friends with her; she's nasty" and "Well, you have to choose between us and them."

That preteen girl clique nonsense does happen among home educated children too, and in fact it has been an issue recently. I'm not pointing the finger at school, not entirely. But it's clear already that it is going to be far more intense in this closed group. Always before there has been an escape. We didn't ever HAVE to go to a particular home ed group, and if we did, when things heated up too much it was perfectly OK for my daughter to opt out by hanging around with younger or older children, or the grownups. Lately she has been seeing friends in ones or twos, which works better.

The social jockeying at school is a challenge from which The Kid will be unable to opt out. She reported that she had managed to avoid allying herself with any particular group YET. She doesn't think she can manage it indefinitely. Fortunately, the few boys in the class seemed nice. She tried chatting with some younger children, but was caught at this unwholesome activity: "What are you DOING, hanging out with Year Threes??" She isn't used to restricting her choice of friends to children who are exactly her age. This will take some getting used to.