Tag Archives: Boys

Whither GP1?

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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 →

Yesterday’s conversations No.2

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Tim (GP2) to Chris (GP1): “Those are my shorts you’re wearing! ”

“All my things are in my suitcase. Mum told me to wash everything so I did.”

(So why, if he’d washed and packed everything, was I hanging his washing on the line this morning, I wonder.)

“I was going to wear them today! What am I supposed to wear?”

“Well, they were on the radiator not doing anything.”

“I put them on the radiator to dry. So’s I could wear them.”

“I needed some shorts.”

End of conversation.

It was the blatant complacency that got me. Big Brother was entirely in the right for the simple reason that he wanted a pair of shorts and those ones happened to be to hand.

I should be grateful, I suppose. In the old days this would have deteriorated into violence.

The refined art of bribery

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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!

In denial

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Three weeks and counting…

Nag, nag, nag, nag, nag, nag

GPM:  “That’s 3 weeks. THREE weeks. Well OK 23 days and a few hours until Higher English.  You won’t be able to put it off any longer then.”

GP1:  “I kno-o-ow.”

Nag. Nag, nag, nag, nag.

“So have you learned that poem? Read that book? Written out those quotes?”

“I’ll do it tomorrow.  Sigh.”

Nag, nag, nag, nag, nag, nag.

Bup-a-lup goes MSN.

Nag, nag, nag, nag.

I think I’m turning into a moany old nag.

And I wish someone would move that wall that’s making lumps on my head.

Nag, nag, nag. Nag, nag.

It must be summer – exams are upon us.  It’ll all be over soon. Thank goodness. Until next year, that is.

And until then…

…nag, nag, nag, nag…

Bup-a-lup

Boys: a miscellany

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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 →

The worst mother in the world

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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 →

Onwards and upwards

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 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 →

Ask the teacher

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When my tall, laid back (read “idle”), 15 year old son comes in from school each day, the conversation generally takes this pattern:-

Me: “How was school today?” 🙂

Him:  “Boring”. 😐

Me: “Do anything interesting?” 🙂

Him: “Nope” 😐 as he disappears into his bedroom to change in preparation for adopting the lounging position in front of the XBox on the sitting room floor.

Me:  “Much homework?” 😉

Him: “Nope”. 😐

End of conversation.   I’m sure I’ve reported on this before – sorry to bore you!

Yesterday, however, was different.  He suddenly launched into a diatribe Continue reading →