Instinct...

School is back with a resounding bang. A noise that reminds me how when you have school-age children, your life is broken down in to the spaces of time that represent school terms. It never used to matter to me whether it was term-time, but now - term time is all.

Olivia P...

My daughter is in the last year of her present school and will, this time next year, be moving to senior school. So today she had an interview with the Headmaster of one of our chosen schools (one that is pretty much the top of the list). A poignant moment; I am noticing that from a parental perspective, increasingly there are things that I just can't do for her! She had to do this on her own and unlike all of those early years, where as a mother I was hovering in the wings, ready to prompt and soothe where needed, now I find I am literally and metaphorically in a waiting room, watching her disappear along a hallway out of sight. It's a good day...this realisation feels right.

I attended a parent's meeting last night where the teachers were outlining the importance of this academic year and how as parents we had a pivotal role to play in support. I started to get the creeping feeling that I could have done more to support; more homework help, more subtle coaching, more confidence building. Then I corrected myself (as I find I often need to) and remembered that it's not me trying out for these schools, it's her. 

She has to stand her own feet and hot-housing children to perform for interviews and exams, I have always felt, kind of defeats the object. I have completed my education; I can't do it again through her. Yet I observe so many mothers who are plugging any gaps in education and well-roundedness with extra tuition, extra activities, extra work. I figure (maybe naively) that if a child can manage entry to a school based on their normal work-rate, then all the better. If you flog a child to get in somewhere and then find when they arrive that they can't keep up, then surely that is a disaster? This feels like uncharted waters of motherhood to me; I feel like I am having to trust my instincts and cross my fingers in the hope that it will all turn out OK.

So, in short, she did great in the interview. Just when I thought I had her every nuance clocked, she pulled a confident little performance out the bag, despite the lack of preparation and hot-housing on my part. Fingers crossed...plant the flowers and hope they grow.