Yes, I have been burying my head in my posterior, coming up only for breath to see if the world is beautiful once more! Please, please let the horrors go away! Please let the monsters be gone! Sadly, no, those pesky beasts are still looming in the near present. Not piles, even worse than that - GCSES!
Now, I know they are not my exams, but I am living and breathing those pesky piranhas, since my eldest is now swimming in their pool. I am totally, utterly drowning! They hurt. They bite. They are endless. They are eating me alive! My eldest is ambivalent, carefree and negligent but I AM COMPLETELY PANICKING!
Recently, I received a letter commending my son on his mock results - phew - I thought for a nanosecond - then reality bit. How is absolutely no revision, whatsoever, commendable?
So I arrive. a month later, at an aftermock parents meeting. Needless to say, things are remarkably different. Suddenly, French has grave concern, History worries, English bitches, Economics has the itch and P.E is cruising - or so I am led to believe by a man-/boy, who could not be old enough to surely crawl let alone walk! That is until the tape of my eldest skiing came in, then P.E is whining, "It's not A*" - too late fitness baby - we asked you at the meeting and you did NOTHING! Science and Maths are happy little potters - yes, he likes you two!
So now Mummy puts her boots on - big, bloody, kick-arse boots on! Life, for my eldest is no longer a bowl of cherries. Revision hurts. Hang on. Revision hurts me more than him. I am finding I am watching him, spying on him, entering his room without knocking (always a danger), checking, monitoring screaming, insulting and crying!This has to stop. I am in a constant tantrum and it is only March.
Any stolen moments that I spend with my "soon to be husband" is in a constant full pitch whine, usually fuelled with wine! He is indulgent and our local pub is also... indulgent. They are at least being paid to hear my moanings.
Yet, from the bedroom of this GCSE student I hear, "Mum, stop your row! Hush a little".
"Hush? Stop? Row?"
I start to fall apart:, dribbling about future and life and ...."Trauma! Mayday! Trauma!
