Editor's Blog
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The countdown to exams has begun
23 April 2009
We had an excellent holiday. The resort was a bit small, though, and I feared we would get bored. So we took out snowboards for a few days. Learning a new skill together was great fun although I for one got pretty bruised on the first day. The social life was pretty non-existent so the boys spent the evenings slaughtering me at Scrabble – a bit perturbing that, as Scrabble has always been ‘my’ game!
Well, it’s back to reality as Alistair prepares for his A levels and Duncan for his GCSEs. I can help Duncan by giving him a practice session for tomorrow’s French oral. But apart from that there’s not much else I can do practically. They are their own men and they organise their own revision so nagging them is pretty pointless.
I can do food, though. And make sure they get enough sleep. And let them turn grumpy on me, if that is what it takes!
Off on our hols again
3 April 2009
We’re off tomorrow for a week’s ski-ing in Bulgaria – the cheapest place we could find. Just me and the boys, as Martin and ski-ing do not get on.
I feel a touch of wistfulness this time round. This is Alistair’s final year at school and so this could well be the last holiday of its type. All the more reason to make the most of the coming week.
I have always been the stronger ski-er. Now they tower above me I am sure that I will have to fight to keep up – but I won’t be defeated. They may choose to go off in the evenings if they meet up with other young people. That’s fine. I shall be quite happy with a book and a glass of wine.
I just feel happy and privileged that they still want to come with me!
Driving me crazy
28 March 2009
We’ve just applied for Alistair’s third driving test. I’m told it’s not unusual for young people to have to take it two, three or even more times – but that’s not a lot of comfort to the wallet (£53 a throw) nor the driver. Each time you fail it makes you more anxious at the next exam. (I remember. I didn’t pass mine till the third time.)
After his first failure his instructor said he should be fine to take it again ¬– and he picked the next available slot, which was two weeks later. The second time he couldn’t face the website for a while and now has to wait till the end of May. I think that is probably a good thing.
Insuring someone with a provisional licence is prohibitively expensive, so he is learning purely with an instructor and unable to practice with us. (Maybe that’s a good thing too. My relationship with my mother went ballistic when she was trying to teach me to drive.)
The anecdotal remarks I get are that the examiners have a quota to pass each day – and no more – so it’s best to take the test in the morning before they have reached their limit. Alistair’s teacher says they are failing everyone at the moment as some sort of industrial action. I must say I find this hard to believe, though not a lot surprises me.
Meantime he remains reliant on bus, bike and lifts. Driving himself can wait for a bit longer – once he has passed his test a lifetime of freedom, responsibility and pound signs lies along the road ahead.
The day after the (party) weekend before ...
10 March 2009
Blimey! I’m a little shell-shocked but I’m coming round. The verdict on Duncan’s 16th birthday gathering last Saturday is that it was a great party, so that’s the main thing. (And from my point of view nothing awful happened, though there were some anxious moments.)
The high spirits, though, were there in abundance when the first group trouped through the kitchen door from the bus. Coming from single-sex state schools, getting together definitely had a frisson of excitement. Sweetly, the girls introduced themselves one by one as they came in, all prettified and mini-skirted. There was such a buzz all round that you would hardly think alcohol was required.
I was much more of a presence than I expected to be. The situation absolutely required it. And it was as much of a learning curve for me as for a couple of the boys who drank too much.
Virtually everyone stayed over, though, and none of them in the four tents the boys had put up for the purpose. They slept for about two and a half hours in heaps on the landing, on the floor of Duncan’s bedroom and on the sofas. Then queued up, bushy tailed, for bacon rolls in the morning.
It took the entire day on Sunday bringing the house back to something like it was before. I don’t regret it, though. Duncan appreciated it and it’s put him ‘on the map’. And I am glad that it all happened in the safe environment of our home, with me there to keep an eye on things.
Not sure I will do it again though. I shall probably go along with Martin’s suggestion on the next occasion and hire the village hall ...
My first teenage party ...
3 March 2009
I went to town on birthday parties when the boys were small, with lots of children, pretty party teas with jelly and a lovingly baked, chopped and shaped cake in the form of Thomas the Tank Engine, Pingu with his sledge or a red racing car. These little affairs were noisy, messy, demanding but delightful.
Things have moved on and Duncan was sixteen last week. So he’s having a party on Saturday. Here. With 30 other teenagers.
This is the first of its kind that I will ‘host’ (though I have to be largely out of view). Alistair just was not into that sort of thing and celebrated his sixteenth with a rather more ‘select’ group of friends.
Our house is not particularly large so I don’t quite know how they are going to dance to the decibels. There’s going to be booze. My husband Martin says he just will not be able to cope and is going to be away. That is absolutely fine by me as he’s right, it would drive him mad. I’ve said that we can’t put up all these people for the night ¬– so many of them are bringing tents to put up in the garden!
It’s all quite daunting stuff. And I have to keep out of the way, though I am effectively
in loco parentis so, whether they like it or not, I shall move through from time to time. I hope no-one does anything that would require me to discipline them!
Ah, well, it’ll be over by Sunday lunchtime I guess. (What do I do? Bacon butties all round for breakfast?) Duncan’s close friends are all extremely nice, so I have to assume that the party folk will be too.
It will be another new ‘parenting experience’. Nothing like your children to keep you on your toes ...
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