I hate these last few weeks of the school year. So much to remember and not knowing whether I am coming or going. That constant feeling that I have forgotten something. Usually because I have. That end of term kind of feeling.
In these last few weeks we somehow squeezed in three school trips, an SEN catch up meeting, work experience, a sixth form visit and a prom. Yet to come is sports day and/or a reserve sports day depending on the great British weather, transition meetings to meet new teachers, an SEN moving forward meeting, a medieval banquet to attend (yes really) and a medieval outfit to find (say what now?) a sixth form welcome week and a reward day to a theme park (that I have to pay for – no I’m not sure how the school rewards good behaviour by asking parents to contribute £40 either but hey ho! Has anyone seen my cheque book?) Of course this is just the stuff that I can remember off the top of my head. Imagine all of the stuff that I have actually forgotten? And breathe.
That’s what you get for having so many children I guess. You’d think that I’d be good at this stuff by now but actually, I’ve never felt so disorganised. Four children in four different places is enough to test anybody’s juggling skills
especially if they have the memory of a goldfish like me. One in infants, another in juniors, one about to start her final year of GCSEs and my son about to (hopefully) start sixth form. Oh god at some point in August we get to find out if all that exam stress paid off don’t we? Something tells me that things aren’t going to get any easier come September.
But that end of term kind of feeling also means that the summer holidays are in sight. Three weeks and two days. Not that I’m counting. Ahem.