The fan man

I had the privilege of teaching a dead set legend that I'm going to call Jem. I had a lot to do with him in Kindergarten, even though he wasn't in my class and then I got to teach him in Grade 1. This kid has an absolute heart of gold and a wicked sense of humour. He is also on the Autism Spectrum but is very high functioning and I doubt that the average person would realise; they would probably just describe him as eccentric or quirky.  Well this kid loves fans. It's his thing.

I'd regularly walk in the classroom to find our ceiling fans belting at maximum speed and worksheets aggressively flapping around the place in the blast while Jem sheepishly peered around the door at me and giggle. It'd be the dead of winter and we'd all be wrapped up in layers of jumpers when suddenly a gusty breeze would swirl around the backs of our necks. I'd look over to the door and there would be Jem, his big rosy cheeks in a taut grin.

"Jem..." I'd say, "Did you turn the fans on?"

He'd shrug, unashamed, hoot with laughter and shout "YES, I can't help it!"

His Dad, as rosy cheeked and as jovial as his son, told me at parent teacher conference that he thought that one day the roof would blow clear off the house because Jem would constantly turn all the fans on at home.

At the beginning of the year, I showed the kids how to make a simple powerpoint presentation and they could insert any pictures they wanted and write a few lines about anything at all.

Jim somehow managed to find a picture of a placidly smiling Asian boy wearing glasses and inserted a single textbox with just one word.

"FAN"

He went to Fiji for a week and came back with beads in his fringe and got up during afternoon news to tell us all about his holiday.

"Well, first we stayed at this hotel which was OK but not that good because it just had air-conditioning. Then we changed to another hotel and that was so much better because it had fans."

He also loved to joke around and possessed a rather sophisticated, adult sense of humour. I'd had a really rough morning with behaviour and many things going wrong and was busting for recess and a moment of solitude. The bell rang and Jem was hanging back.

"Go outside Jem."

He dawdled while flashing me a cheeky smile over his blue-tracksuit clad shoulder. This kid knew how to push my buttons.

"JEM. OUT."

Just then one of my lovely girls came back in, hysterical with tears flowing freely.

"MISS CARLSON I CAN'T FIND MY HAT"

The usual nurturing niceties followed -

"It's just a small problem, dear, I'm sure it's just hiding somewhere in the bag room let's go and have a little look, don't worry."

It wasn't in her bag. It wasn't in the bag room. My twenty minutes of peace was dwindling and I desperately wanted to find this hat and then hide under the desk with my banana and yoghurt.

Jem pops his head around the corner.

"I know where the hat is, Miss Carlson."

Jem did have a tendency to occasionally hide things as a joke and I entertained the thought that perhaps he had squirrelled the hat away in a tote tray or stuffed it behind the class library.

"Ok Jem where is it?"

He walked at snail pace back into the classroom and started peeking under desks and then laughing back at me.

"Jem, enough. Do you know where the hat is or not?"

"Yeah, yeah, Miss Carlson it's just over here."

By this time my frustration was peaking and I'm sure I had veins throbbing in my forehead. Jem walked over to the window and was seemingly looking under the blinds for the hat then turned to me and cackled,

"I'M JOKING MISS CARLSON!"

At this, I was nearly hysterical myself and felt weird tears stemming from irritation and hilarity. I took a seat at one of the student desks and put my head in my hands.

"Jem, go outside! I'm about to have a mental breakdown."

At this, he clapped me on the back, smacked his lips and cheesed his chortling expression inches from my face.

"Well, Miss Carlson. That's just embarrassing."

With that, he sprinted out of the classroom crowing with delight while I was left cry-laughing with just minutes before the end of recess bell.

Update

Through the magic of Facebook memories, this delightfully hilarious blog appeared on my newsfeed this afternoon and I was drenched in nostalgia as I remembered some of these stories from my first year of teaching. So much has changed since then! A few months after my last post I was offered a full time position teaching Kindergarten and twelve months after that I applied for a permanent position and was successful. I jumped through a million hoops to get the position, which I will have to detail in another post but the bottom line was that it was all completely mad and stressful. At the same time, I went through an enormous personal upheaval that saw my ten year relationship with my fiancee come to an end. More madness and more stress.

I decided to be crazy, brave, wild and/or spontaneous, sell everything I owned and move to Thailand. I felt compelled to finish up 2014 with my lovely Grade 1 kids and so moved to Bangkok just before Christmas. I arrived with no job, no apartment and a whole lotta devil-may-care attitude. I found a job within a month at a great family-style International Preschool in the heart of Bangkok city and signed an 18 month contract. I will have to share some memories of this school and the kids that I taught; I learnt so much about myself as a teacher and was introduced to a completely new breed of parent - the expats!

Although I loved this school, with my experience and qualifications I knew that I could be earning a lot more at a big International school and financial security had become a priority since I had fallen pregnant. I waddled into an interview while 38 weeks pregnant and what could have potentially been a 10 minute interview went for nearly 90 minutes as my boss and I discussed all facets of education and learning, my previous teaching experiences and living life abroad. I was offered a job on the spot.

I'm now 6 weeks into my new contract at Berkeley International School in Bangkok, Thailand!

This is my 5th year teaching and I really feel that this is the first year that I truly feel on top of my work. I'm finally able to repeat successful lessons (rather than inventing everything from scratch) and I have to commend my new school for having excellent communication and organisation procedure, so as long as I can click around on my google account each day, I can stay abreast of everything that is going on.

Here's to cracking open the old blog again!

My first day teaching

During the course of the year I've been lucky to meet lots of practicum students, all at various stages of their learning. Just a fortnight ago I met two lovely pre-service teachers from the Masters of Teaching UWS (REPRESENT YO!!) and I spent the majority of term 2 with three people from the Notre Dame course on their first ever prac experience. I, of course, can completely empathise with the situation they are in as I was a Prac student myself, as recently as 10 months ago. One of the stories they all want to hear is how the very first day of teaching actually went. Was it petrifying? Did you have work planned? Could they smell your fear?

Yes, yes and thankfully, no.

I think I had a somewhat more terrifying experience than most however, as many students finish up their last prac and then start casual teaching nearly straight away. After I finished my prac I had my DEC interview the very next day and so didn't have approval to teach yet and within the fortnight I was in India on some mad 'holiday' that lasted 3 months. By the time March rolled around and I'd finally shaken the debilitating food poisoning that had seen me hospitalised (don't eat street foot in India. Even POTATO will try to kill you.) I'd almost forgotten what I was supposed to do. I put my resume in at 3 schools on the
Monday and was booked in to work the Wednesday on a year 3 class.

Panicking like a mad man I woke before the sun had risen and feverishly reread and reanalysed the heavily detailed lesson plans I'd developed for the day, just in case the teacher hadn't left work. I packed my lunch baggy full of healthy, energy sustaining food and dressed in what I'd call casually professional clothing.

I arrived so early that the doors to my building weren't even open yet and frantically dashed between the room and the office with various rings of keys until I finally got in. I was relieved to spy a detailed three page note left on the teachers desk - as excited as I was to do my own lessons there would have been a comfort in simply following the classes regular routine and allowing myself a gradual reentry into the teaching world. But then I read the note. Without recalling the exact wording, the note basically told me what NOT to do.

"Don't use any textbooks. Don't do any HSIE work. Other than that, I don't mind what you do!"

But obviously much more verbose. Relieved I had over planned to the point I could have taught them for a week, I set about preparing my day.

I wrote my name on the board:

MISS CARLSON.

I rubbed it out. I rewrote:

Miss Carlson.

I rubbed it out. I rewrote it in purple (I want to be a fun teacher!)

I rubbed it out. I rewrote it larger.

I rubbed it out. I rewrote it smaller (too big).

I tried to just rub out the 's' which was wonky but smudged it. I rubbed it out. I rewrote it again.

I then wrote up my plan for the day on the board so that the kids know what's happening. Repeat above rubbing out and rewriting process.

I tried to turn on my IWB. I started to panic when I failed to find the 'on' button for the laptop. I'm 23 years old and I can't turn on a laptop. WHAT has happened to me. Just then a friend walked in to wish me well and I accosted her by the arm and screamed in her face to fortheloveofGod turn on my laptop. Turns out the on button was a nondescript silver thing that needed to SLIDE across and was actually very hard to find.

I ran back to the office to make photocopies and was horrified to find that the photocopier required a password. I texted my friend and got hers then desperately punched buttons until 30 A4 copies were spat out.

I raced back to the room and arranged and rearranged my piles of paper and story books into their correct chronological order for the day then panicked again as I realised I hadn't gotten the roll.

I yet again sprinted back to the office, madly hunted for the correct pigeon hole then pelted back to the classroom.

I bolted BACK to the office again for a nervous poo (no shame, baby) then the realisation that the bell was about to ring and I didn't know where to collect the children, I didn't know if I had a playground duty and I DIDN'T KNOW ANYTHING dawned on me.

I found the necessary information, the bell rang and I headed out into the playground. Several hundred blue clad children were before me like an ocean of confusion and noise. HOW was I going to find my class? I took to whispering the question at nice looking children and eventually found my 30. I led them inside while biting my inner lip at their loose definition of "two straight lines". Were the other teachers judging me?? Were they tutting under their breath at the newbie who couldn't even get them inside without them dissipating into 20 something un-straight lines??

Once inside I followed my plan: I introduced myself, I marked the roll, I explained what we'd be learning that day and I explained my behaviour expectations and consequences for good and bad behaviour. From there on in it was smooth sailing! I found that my teacher voice (you know the one) came naturally and almost I was almost subconsciously nipping bad behaviour in the bud.

"AHHH... The boys over there on that table. What a shame you're spoiling us. Last warning boys and then it's the sad face." *raised eyebrows/pursed lips*

"Can't ask you Billy, you're calling out."

"WHO IS STILL TALKING?! How rude. I'd hate to have to tell your teacher that you were doing the wrong thing."

And etc. HAHA!!

We did a brilliant lesson on The Rabbits - John Marsden and Shaun Tan. The kids chose to write an empathy piece from the perspective of either a rabbit or a possum. Maths was a blast with cooperative learning group based problem solving. And we had assembly.

I spent the entirety of lunch meticulously marking the writing task and applying a myriad of stickers and stamps to each page. I was amazed and proud of the effort they'd put in and the quality of their responses (save the one that said he wanted to be a rabbit so he could own everyone else in the world, illustrated with tanks and guns. Errrrmm...)

By the end of the day the kids were telling me what a great teacher I was and how they wished they could have me again. Any qualms or nerves dissipated as I received those incredible words of praise and encouragement. I reflected and realised that the kids had no idea whatsoever that I was new to teaching or nervous.

My advice to anyone about to take on their first day:

• PLAN thoroughly. It's better to have over planned than not have enough and be put on the spot.
• MARK everything you do, even if that means spending time at recess, lunch and after school.
• OUTLINE your expectations for both quality of work and behaviour before every lesson.
• STICK to the consequences you give for both positive and negative behaviour - don't go soft for anyone and don't forget to reward those doing the right thing.
• CHECK that you've signed in, whether you have a playground duty and that you have the roll.

Good luck :)

Global Connections

This post isn't strictly about teaching or my experiences as a teacher. However, as I sit perched quite literally on a piece of secluded Thai coastline gazing out into thunderous waves and an ominously blue grey horizon I'm inspired at the glorious beauty of the world surrounding me and reminiscing journeys past that have taken me to the most incredible corners of this planet.

A worldly education is SO important for any child. Acts as simple as taking them to an ethnic grocer (food doesn't grow at Coles!! Novelty!!), walking through the city or visiting a museum will do the world of good in expanding your child's horizon.

As a teacher, it's very easy to see which children have these sorts of experiences and which do not. A fairly standard Monday morning practise at any school is to write a journal entry about the weekend. Lots of children write the same thing every Monday - they like to tell me about what food they ate, what video games they played and what tv shows they watched. Other children's journals are punctuated with entries that involve visits to the library, gardening with Grandma, museum visits, trips to the Botanical Gardens and *gasp* playing outside. It is SHOCKING the amount of general knowledge that these kids pick up just from simple activities like those I've mentioned. Their attitude towards life is open to new experiences and their inherent inquisitiveness is heightened.

When I teach the older grades I am often appalled at their lack of global knowledge. I recently had a child in a gifted and talented class write down both France and Nepal as countries with rain forests. It's a regular occurrence to have kids laugh at different cultures simply because it's a shock to see someone in traditional dress or eating different food.

Now I'd just like to share some of my favourite memories with you from around the globe that have contributed to the person I am today.

• Walking through Singapore at 5am after our connecting flight was delayed. An overwhelming and suffocating heat slowly began to enclose us as the sun rose. My first taste of Asian heat.
• Landing in Pattaya army airstrip after said flight had been diverted due to violent riots in Bangkok. Hundreds upon hundreds of Indians were sleeping on the floor and we literally had to step over them to get out.
• The repugnant yet intoxicating smell of dried squid. This smell made my mouth water as I sat on the edge of the Mekong River in Laos eating a woven basket full of sticky rice that was riddled with ants.
• My heart shattering horror at staring at thousands of photos of the children who had been tortured and killed by the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia.
• Meeting two 11 year old orphan girls who understood and respected the importance of their education. They knew that education meant the difference between life and death, poverty and having enough to eat. The most humbling experience and one of the largest contributing factors in my decision to be a teacher.
• Taking five steps into the Amazon jungle, turning around and being unable to tell where I came from.
• Having a sick boyfriend in the Amazon, telling our indigenous guide in terrible Spanish who promptly ran into the jungle wielding a machete and returned half an hour later with flowers, roots, leaves and berries. He brewed them into an electric orange tea. My boyfriend was cured within 2 hours.
• Pure bliss and exultation at seeing an Orca dive up out of the water in the Galapagos islands.
• Tears cascading down my face as a pod of several hundred dolphins frolicked around our boat and fins were the only thing I could see for 360 degrees around me.
• Visiting the slums in Rio de Janeiro and seeing some of the most exquisitely beautiful children I'd ever seen in my life.
• Watching the much larger slums in India stretch into the horizon and then feeling angry and guilty at the pity I felt.
• Learning that in India it is perfectly acceptable for a woman to push and barge her way to the front of any line by loudly shouting "Ladies! Ladies!"
• Feeling the extreme chill of -22 degrees that cannot be adequately expressed in words in the Himalayas and realising that people live there, all year round without heating and in shacks made out of thin wood.

I hope it's clear to all who read how these experiences that I've listed, just a handful out of millions of unforgettable memories, have shaped my perspectives, given me knowledge and understanding and are an integral part of who I am.

To a child, family excursions around their home town have a similar impact as they're exposed to new sights, information, people and ideas.

Children need to have their world expanded beyond that of the lounge room.

I'd love to hear people's feedback and thoughts on this topic because it's very close to my heart.

Do your kids enjoy going outside of the home on trips? Are they inquisitive about different foods? Have your travel experiences shaped who you are?

The Naughty Book

I can't explain why but all children seem to take a nasty pleasure in getting other children into trouble. I knew this but was unprepared for the literal onslaught of 'dobbers' that would hunt me down every playground duty to violently exclaim their tales of injustice or sycophantly point out the tiniest of infringements, lest the wrongdoers go unpunished.

I have a multitude of dobber stories to share at a later point but this post is especially reserved for Ivan.

One fine day I was meandering through the Year 2 handball area on first half lunch duty when a flurry of excitement caught my eye. Sure enough, a gang of kindergarten boys were throttling towards me, their eyes ablaze with fury. A cacophony of anguished wails met my ears and I deciphered the following:

"There's a boy swearing!"

"He said naughty words!"

"He said the P word!!"

"Yeah, he said the P word!"

"He said the P word and the F word!!!!"

Hearing that the infringement was the dreaded F word, I set off at once. I sent one child to fetch me the feared naughty book while the gang led me to the opposite corner of the playground and proceeded to encircle a boy sitting on the ground, their fingers raised in accusing points while the dobber shouts continued. I shushed the onlooking crowd and reprimanded bystanders for not minding their own business. Sat before me was a small, blonde child that was snivelling and sobbing. It's this kind of remorse that separates truly naughty children with those that have just slipped up and I was touched by his genuine shame. I knelt before him and put on my most nurturing Kindy voice.

"Hey matey. Did you say a naughty word?"

He began to sob harder and feebly nodded while staring at the ground.

"Look at me darling. We must never, ever say naughty words because they're ugly and it's against school rules. Did you say the naughty word for any reason?"

He choked out an anguished reply:

"Yes, they were all annoying me!"

At this the gang were in uproar and defiant shouts ensued that were only quelled by my cranky teacher state that I have nearly perfected.

"Matey, that's what teachers are here for. If people are being mean to you, you can come and tell a teacher who will help you. It's never ok to swear, even if people are annoying you."

At this, scenes of lunchtimes past flashed in my mind where I'd literally have a line of children crying about others being mean.

"But do you know what the best thing to do is? Just say 'don't do it, I don't like it', and if they still annoy you just walk away and find nicer friends to play with."

By this time the Naughty Book had been fetched. I like to avoid putting the little ones in the book because it really is the worst punishment in the world for all except the infamous, hardened, naughty boys. But swearing is very naughty for a kindergarten child and a practice that ought to be nipped in the bud.

"Ivan, I'm going to put you into the naughty book. You've already gotten into trouble by me so you won't get into more trouble but what this means is that if you do anything else naughty, we'll be able to see that you've been naughty two times and then it'll be pretty serious."

Ivan sadly nodded his head and began to cry again. I started to write the details in but when it came to what actually happened, I needed clarification. I looked to the gang and asked what happened.

"He said the P word!"

"He said the P word and the F word!"

At this, Ivan's head shot up in anger and cried

"No! Just the P word!!"

At this, the gang nodded their assent that this was indeed true. The boy claiming to have heard the F word then wandered off and I actually think he was a ring in who had been attracted by all the commotion in the first place. I confirmed it was just the P word but had begun to wonder what on earth the P word was. Piss? It was the only word I could think of.

"Ivan, whisper in my ear what the naughty word was, just so I know. You won't be in more trouble."

Ivan choked back a sob while staring at me dubiously, then leant forward and in a strangled whisper said:

"...Poop."

Before starting a renewed fit of sobs. At this I bit my lip as hard as I could to stop a grin spreading across my face. Tears stung the back of my eyes at my repressed laughter. When I had finally composed myself enough to continue I replied so the whole crowd could hear me:

"Well that's a SILLY word and it's not a nice word but it's not a really, really naughty word so I'm not going to put you in the naughty book."

Poor Ivan, who is probably a lovely and sensible child most of the time hadn't yet recovered from the shock of nearly being in the Naughty Book by the time second half lunch had come around and I left for the staff room. I, however, laughed for days later at the events but was also warmed at the innocence of a large group of boys thinking 'Poop' was a swear word.

Afternoon news

Afternoon news is one of my favourite sessions at school purely because of the hilarity of what the monkeys find newsworthy.

"Good afternoon KC."

"GOOD AFTERNOON JAMES!" the whole class cries in that familiar sing-song chorus. I wonder what I'll hear today?

James stands before the class wearing a look of deep seriousness and waits in silence. He looks at me, eyebrows raised and says:

"I can't start because Georgie isn't sitting on her bottom." A pointed glare in Georgie's direction shames her into unfolding her legs from underneath her and sitting cross legged.

Cooper in the front row is sitting with his back so straight he is actually about to topple over backwards. His arms are rigid and end in his tiny hands gripping his knees with such ferocity that his knuckles are turning white. I daren't look at his face because I will sob with laughter - his eyeballs are bulging, his cheeks are sucked in to their maximum and his eyes will be darting between the news-teller and me as he steals glances of agonised longing at the stickers in my hand that I reserve for 'the best listeners'. The irony is that he's barely listening at all for the immense amounts of concentration required to lean as far back as possible in the attempt to sit up straight.

James begins.

"Well I have these snakes." From his pocket he pulls out two rubber snakes - one red, one green. The audible gasps of "aww cool" are silenced by James who stares daggers at anyone interrupting his turn to speak.

"These snakes are real but I turned them into plastic because the green one tried to bite me and hypnotise me."

I shove my knuckles into my mouth in an attempt to plug my giggles as this is no laughing matter. The class stares with solemn reverie at the snakes and some of the boys even give knowing nods.

"Do you mean paralyse James?" I ask.

"No."

I guess I was wrong! James continues his news that has somehow evolved into a death defying escape from the two snakes that have tried, and failed, to hypnotise him. Tears are literally pouring down my cheeks as I stifle giggles but some of the kids have caught on and are starting to laugh too. Eventually all 20 of us are guffawing at the ridiculousness of this tale and even James is finding it hard to finish between his own laughs.

"Thank you for listening KC."

"YOU'RE WELCOME JAMES!"

Before I can call up the next student, little Bailey, a gorgeous child who would make a great teacher one day, has jumped up and leans in close to whisper in my ear.

"Excuse me Miss Carlson, do you think it would be ok if I had a special news? It's not my news day but I have something special to tell everyone." Intrigued, I agree.

After another rousing chorus of good afternoon Bailey asks the class:

"So who knows where we come from?"

Oh God what have I done?! Are we about to get a sex ed lesson?! Hands fly into the air.

Bailey murmurs aloud - "mm, can't choose you Alex you were just talking and that's rude. Oh! Can't choose you either Sophie you're doing the wrong thing." His eyes finally stop on Isaiah who answers:

"Jesus made us."

Bailey's face splits into a grin of scornful glee as though he expected this answer and chose Isaiah purposefully.

"Nope, wrong! It's a process called evolution. You see, millions of billions of millions of trillions of years ago we were monkeys and over time we changed just a little bit every few years until we became humans. Any questions?"

Hands fly into the air again and Isaiah's is waggling furiously while his face is a determined grimace. Bailey chooses another person but Isaiah cannot stand it and bursts out:

"Nuh-uh!! Jesus and God made us because that's what they told me at church."

I am frankly shocked at the level of intelligent debate occurring in kindergarten and am flabbergasted for a moment.

Jake pipes up and is wearing a smug grin - "Umm, I THINK Isaiah would know. He knows all about this stuff because he goes to church."

The whole class looks to me, waiting for my rule on the topic. They all stare expectantly into my face for answers.

"Well, as you grow up you might hear different reasons for how we got here and it's up to you to make up your mind which of them you want to believe. It's important to listen to what your parents tell you but also listen to the other ideas too so you have lots of information."

Although kindergarten seems to grasp the evolutionist vs creationist debate the concept of multiple truths eludes them and they are incredulous that I am saying that more than one answer can be right. They want answers, dammit! The class erupts into angry noise with Isaiah's voice at the foreground simply repeating, "Nah! Nah! Nah!" in horror. Jake is simply smiling into the distance as though no debate could shake his belief system and is faintly amused by the situation. A few kids are still staring at me questioningly and I decide to wrap it up.

"Guys, you need to ask your parents about what you want to know alright? Say thank you for listening, Bailey."

I give Cooper a sticker for being a good listener and he relaxes instantly, flexing his hands.

You never know what you're going to get with afternoon news.

What's in the 'box?

I'm not going to skate around this issue - I am disgusted by the contents of most children's lunch boxes.

I'm a self confessed health nut and it makes me sick to constantly see children shovelling food that is no better than trash into their mouths every single day. Let me cite some memorable examples.

• A year 6 boy sent to school with nothing more than a jumbo sized bag of burger rings.
• A kindergarten girl with not one but TWO packets of chips, a packet of tiny teddies and FIVE freddo frogs.
• A group of year three girls that I observed on playground duty - cold fish fingers with packaged tartare sauce, packets of cookies, mammee noodles, chocolate bars, jelly cups and to top it all off a generous pile of canteen bought food including hash browns, garlic bread and muffins that they were all sharing.
• Toffee bars and sherbet sticks overflowing out of children's pockets that are shared around.
• Infants kids eating lollipops as though they are actual food.

And don't think the kids that have sandwiches are any better. White bread?! Every single atom of substance and nutrition has been obliterated from the grain used in white bread. Throw Vegemite or jam into the mix and you're still looking at sugar and fat sandwiched in empty calories. Kids who eat these 'standard' lunches are looking at a lunchbox full of simple, refined carbohydrates with next to no protein or fibre.

I have recently resorted to parading around the classroom chomping on whole carrots while dramatically announcing the deliciousness of my snack and asking the children who can show me a fruit or vegetable in their lunch box and rewarding them with verbal praise, stickers or even the token economy system in place in their school. Even kindergarten children know if they've been packed a good lunch - children will run up to me wielding bananas to wave in my face, showcase their baggy of grapes or join in my choruses of "Mmm... Yummy AND healthy!" while we snack on our chopped vegetables.

It devastates me that children who don't yet have the capacity to make their own nutritional decisions are given such horrendous food that is literally setting them up for unhealthy habits, weight gain, poor nutrition and no concept of foods that should just be for 'sometimes'. Since when is it normal to eat junk food daily? When did parents become so complacent or ignorant about nutrition that it's acceptable to pack chocolates into a lunch box?

I have recently been discussing this issue with my friends and it seems we all had similar childhood recollections - the standard lunch was a sandwich with a piece of fruit and a pop top drink. Although the adult me shudders at the mere idea of cordial, the lunches of the 90s seem to be generally healthier than those that I'm seeing on the playground today. In amongst the reminiscing were stories of trips to the supermarket where the child would be allowed to choose ONE treat that they MIGHT be given for their Friday lunch. For me it was usually a toss up between pizza shapes and chocolate dunkaroos although I was impartial to the occasional mixed bag of chips of which all but chicken flavour would be eaten. These treats were reserved for play dates or maybe the weekend. I definitely understood that these foods were for 'sometimes'.

Crackers with cheese is not lunch. Sugar laden muesli bars are not a great lunch box filler, despite what the packaging might say. Junk food like chips, lollies, jelly and chocolate are never appropriate for school.

What's wrong with filling your kid's lunch box with natural foods like whole grains, fruit and vegetables? Here's my suggestion:
• recess: a banana and half a cucumber
• lunch: a whole grain salad sandwich and a boiled egg

WHY is that so hard?! If your kid doesn't want to eat healthy food then stop spoiling them and giving into them. It's YOUR job to be the parent and make the hard decisions. Kids don't understand the consequences of the food decisions they make and of COURSE they want to eat junk. I bet they want to experiment with fire too but nobody lets their kids do that. I'm also sick of hearing the excuse that parents are time and money poor so packaged lunches are 'easier'. It will not be 'easier' when your child is suffering from obesity, diabetes, heart disease or cancer because they've been fed nutritionally deficient food their whole lives.

If you can't 'afford' your children, don't have them in the first place.