It seems a long time ago since I started this blog. My concerns at that stage seem so distant. Life has indeed moved on. It is over a year now since Tim (aka GP2) left school and Standard Grades, Highers, SQA, Curriculum for Excellence, Leaps, are now of no more than passing academic interest. Time for a round up.
So, Chris/GP1/Ginger left that fine academic institution that is Ross High School three years ago with a respectable assortment of Highers, Advanced Highers and various other SQA offerings. I can’t really say, hand on heart, that he ever quite got studying but hey, he did what he needed. We suggested he took a year out to figure out what he really wanted to do before moving on to more studying but he didn’t want to, so onwards it was. I think perhaps he couldn’t visualise the alternatives to the school-college route – it was a sort of comfort blanket that didn’t require too much thinking. LEAPS summer school (he didn’t really get that, either) was followed by Sport Science at Heriot Watt University.
Oh dear. Oh Heriot Watt – do you have no student support system that flags up when things are not going as they should? It was obvious to us by Christmas Continue reading →
This morning, at 9am, I found myself online with my finger hovering over the Buy This Instant button as T in the Park tickets came on sale. Apparently I agreed to buy GP1 a ticket in return for his fantastic exam results this year. That must have been during one of my more maternal “Let’s be positive and look on the bright side” moments, as my understanding of fantastic exam results doesn’t entirely coincide with my son’s. In fact, I don’t think our opinions even approximately match. Still, not being one to go back on my word, even if I can’t quite remember the conversation, I did the deed and bought the ticket.
So I’m now the proud owner of a ticket for the 2010 T in the Park. It’s my ticket. Mine. Not his. If he wants it, there will be conditions attached. And if he doesn’t get respectable marks in his prelims in February, I will be offering the ticket to the highest bidder. Or any bidder. Perhaps I’ll give it away. I’m sure there are some very deserving cousins who’d appreciate it. Who knows, I could even go myself.
If I were my son, I wouldn’t be calling my bluff. You have been warned, GP1.
Please form an orderly queue now. You can camp overnight if you want to be first in line. And no pushing at the back!
One hitherto unforeseen advantage of trundling round the house with the vacuum cleaner is that it gives you space to compose blog posts in your head. One disadvantage is that the instant you switch the machine off, those wonderfully crafted words disappear, sucked up as far as I can tell into the Dyson.
Anyway, there I was, mulling over the apparent impossibility of getting GP1 to even think about doing any revision for the forthcoming prelims or perhaps even making a list of what he needs to do. I don’t ask for much. His younger brother, on the other hand, also faced with exams, comes out with such gems as “Mum, if I do this past paper could you mark it so that I don’t cheat?” You’d throw up wouldn’t you, if he wasn’t your own son. So I just laugh, lavish praise, agree and wonder why the application genes couldn’t have been divided equally.
Meanwhile, I’ve been trying to auction tickets for someone to accompany me to Parents’ Evening tonight. Continue reading →
Apparently that is my sobriquet amongst GP1’s friends, due in part to my whimsical tendency to insist that he occasionally tears himself away from the X Box to do his homework (well I try) and in part to my – sorry, our – bizarre and totally unreasonable refusal to allow TVs, games machines or computers in the bedrooms. I found this out last weekend when we took twelve teenagers paintballing. Twelve? Yes, twelve. That’s the result of having two birthdays in the same week and then, as happened last year, choosing to have major surgery that very week. There’s a lot of making up to do. Bad planning, some might say.
Anyhow I thought it was a bit unfair to call me The worst mother in the world, albeit with a huge smile, when Continue reading →
Standard Grades seemed so simple. Were they ever an issue? Did I ever worry that GP1 might not be working hard enough? Surely not. The fact that GP2 is sitting his SGs this year is really just incidental. Because, dear reader, we have Highers looming. I have written very little about GP1 and his meandering journey towards Highers for the simple reason that I find it all too distressing. It’s also difficult not to get too personal about it all. Why, I wonder, am I the one waking in the middle of the night worrying about oldest son’s English essay? I’ve got my own report deadlines to worry about, thank you very much.
But I was cheered the other day by an email comment from the wonderful lady who is struggling to tutor him through English and I thought perhaps Continue reading →