I must be mad starting a blog considering I hardly have time to wipe my nose when I have a cold. Also my life is incredibly boring, consisting mostly of the usual day-to-day stuff of looking after 2 toddlers (3yo & nearly 2) and home-educating a 7yo who starts talking the minute he opens his eyes in the morning and doesn't stop all day no matter what he's doing. however - this blog is mainly for myself, as a sort of diary which I will no doubt find riveting some day (perhaps when the kids are grown up insha'Allah) and also as I do actually enjoy the process of writing. so if you're reading this and you're not one of the 4 or 5 people mentioned here you will probably be bored witless - don't say you weren't warned.

I became a home educator reluctantly. My eldest, Zeno, just didn't settle in at school, although I was enjoying the PTA meetings and fund-raisers and was considering becoming a parent-governer. I had been the treasurer of Zeno's pre-school, also I do have a nursery teaching qualification so you could say I was personally a big fan of school education for the very young.

Sadly Zeno didn't agree. He hated school from the start. He went to pre-school from the age of 3. Mums were encouraged to stay around and help out, so I was there with him about 80% of the time anyway, and he enjoyed it. But then we moved to a different area of London and after a 5 month wait he started at the local state nursery (attached to the junior school). It was a big old place, with 'proper' teachers (his was particularly severe and distant), and it definitely didn't want mums around. I was allowed to stay with him for the first week and then politely but firmly told they didn't want me around. He went there for 2 terms before moving up to Reception class. By now I was having to almost literally drag him to school, crying and sobbing. I knew he was a bright boy, masha'Allah, and really (really) wanted him to love school.

He was now full-time (9.00am - 3.30pm) and I was getting lots done at home - not only was I studying a couple of subjects I had really wanted to do, but my house had never been so clean and my life so organised. BUT, there was no joy in any of this because it was all at the expense of leaving my distraught child at the place he hated for 6 & a half hours a day. While I waited outside the classroom to collect him at 3.30, I noticed how he sat slightly apart from the other children, plucking his lip nervously. The unhappiness was obvious in his eyes, his expression, his whole demeanor. He was a picture of misery. I couldn't leave him there any longer. I de-registered him one month after his 5th birthday, and though I sometimes wish he had liked school better, I don't regret making the decision to home educate him.