Let's ask the kids

 I thought that this was going to be a blog about how this Friday we played a great game about arrays by using a wipeboard, a number sentence and some lego. Or about how we read and listened to lots of Michael Rosen's poems to aid us in learning about poetic devices (in times of need, we always call on Michael Rosen). Or about how Ferdy seems to have taught Gil to read without anyone really noticing.

But as we were on our way out to the woods with the wonderful Ickabog as our soundtrack, I was struck by how all the books that we read feature children who make better choices than adults, children who speak the truth and aren't distracted by politics or societal rules, children who are brave, strong and honourable because they feel it is the right thing, not because they are trying to impress someone else.

As well as the valorous Daisy Dovetail in the Ickabog, who (spoiler alert) against all odds persuades the Ickabog not to kill, this week we've read about: a boy who speaks to animals and saves a giant turtle from being eaten by greedy adults, little Stella Saxby who manages to escape being poisoned by her aunt by refusing to drink the tea which her parents politely and fatally drink, and Amelia Fang who aged ten teaches her whole family a lesson about friendship and loyalty. Even Biff, Chips and Kipper have been known be more insightful than their slightly hapless parents and teachers.

And when we were in the woods today, and Ferdy and Gil wanted to go off exploring with me (breathlessly) trying to keep up, I realised that these two haven't had much choice recently. Whilst the government and parents and teachers grapple with how to negotiate home learning and teaching and working, our kids just have to get on with whatever rules we set.

Ferdy proclaimed this Friday his best day ever because he and Gil led the way, and he and Gil decided where we should go. They didn't take the set path through the woods; we had to climb over branches, leap over the stream and crawl though a tunnel. Our walk even involved smashing lots of ice on the pond. Ok, it wasn't compromising with an Ickabog but was loads more fun than following the path.

Later on, Ferdy decided not to write a poem about a magic box as had been our (my) plan, but instead about a Naked Egyptian Mummy.

I love it.

And Gil decided to start a diary instead of writing out his new sounds.

So we will do the work, but we might do some of it the Ferdy and Gil way.