What to watch this week

... It’s a Wonderful Life. It’s a far bleaker film than its saccharine title implies, and that is, of course, why it’s brilliant. For many, Christmas isn’t a time of overflowing goodwill and joy; it’s a time of pinched budgets and exhaustion, bordering on despair. James Stewart was always the perfect everyman, and his character George Bailey is just that: an ordinary man whose troubles drive him to the brink of suicide on Christmas Eve, until an angel steps in and shows him what the world would be like without him. The Family Man (starring Nicholas Cage and Tea Leoni), is a modern take on It's a Wonderful Life and is also very pleasant to watch with a glass of mulled wine and with the Christmas tree lights in the background.

Summerhill: The Future of Education?

Summerhill School, Sussex, UK

Summerhill School is an independent British boarding school founded in 1921 by Alexander Neill with the belief that the school should be made to fit the child, rather than the other way around.

It is run as a democratic community; the running of the school is conducted in the school meetings, which anyone, staff or pupil, may attend, and at which everyone has an equal vote. These meetings serve as both a legislative and judicial body.

All lessons are optional, and pupils are free to choose what to do with their time. Neill founded Summerhill with the belief that "the function of a child is to live his own life — not the life that his anxious parents think he should live, not a life according to the purpose of an educator who thinks he knows best

The school is more concerned with the social development of children than their academic development. There is no concept of a "year" or "form" at Summerhill. Instead, children are placed according to their ability in a given subject. It is not uncommon for a single class to have pupils of widely varying ages, or for pupils as young as 13 or 14 to take GCSE examinations. This structure reflects a belief that children should progress at their own pace, rather than having to meet a set standard by a certain age.

"I would rather Summerhill produced a happy street sweeper than a neurotic prime minister." - A.S Neill

And God created man ...

Isn't this a clever way of exposing kids to art? Imagine having Michaelangelo's God reaching out to your door bell/ communal lift button, and you stepping in the role of Perfect Adam every morning. How absolutely delightful!
(This, by the way, is not a photoshopped image, but it's for real somewhere, oh-the-irony, in a plastic surgeon's office in Japan - where else?!)

Music in da House

Here are the current top favourite tracks in our household:

1. Best of Elvis (the King - and revered by all of us)
2. The Beatles (very conveniently Pip's teacher is called Michelle)
3. Best of Tracy Chapman (Christmas is always time for Tracy)
4. Animal Nursery Rhymes (not that bad, honest)
5. Sounds of the Rainforest (this one is Toby's favourite. At least we assume it is because he goes on a chirping roll whenever we put it on. Unless he's just trying to tell us to switch it off)

Book of the Week: Adult Stuff

BACKWARDS IN HIGH HEELS - The Impossible Art of Being Female, by Tania Kindersley and Sarah Vine (2009), both journos with The Times of London. It covers everything from sex to modern relativism, from feminism to face cream. One chapter, for example is titled: "Philosophy of life, self-esteem and the whole damn thing". Tee hee, yes, it reads just like a cosy chat with your closest girlfriend.

Book of the Week: for the Wee Ones

It's a hilarious Irish Cinderella Story (and not because I have a spof spot for the Irish). It's brilliant even for the boys - lots of Princes get to fight over 'Cinders'. Watch out for the step sisters' chav sense of fashion.

I had a dream ... which went Lunapop

The Dream: Me on a pink Vespa Italiana, wearing shorts, scarf and windswept hair, whistling Luna Pop and scooting about the (Roman) streets. Then, me parking, taking off helmet with prolonged and pronounced flicker of my because-I'm-worth-it long straight hair (which would never know a bad hair day).

The Fact: When I tried um, scooting, I could barely see the road with the sweat beads traffic-jamming my eyes. And, had to stop very kind people to help me lift the thing off the ground each time me and the machine rolled off at a tangent. And my hair was (much) more Arsenic Lupin than Margot.

The Bubble: Burst. My dream could never come true.

The Crisis: Why? Why? Why? Was it me? Was it the scooter? Did we get together at the wrong time? Did we just need some space?

The Moral: C'est la vie.

The Dream: One day (some) dreams do come true, one hopes.

What's it?

Hello. This will be a blog which applauds laid-back parenthood. Heq hem. See you in a bit. When I'm done with this very important lie-in.