After choosing a school, we have received our official offer; my oldest is off to primary school in September. (Or will be once I work out how to print off a form. It’s 2018 for goodness sake. Who prints?).
Our wait for the all-important email went a bit like this:
Up until the day: It’s fine, we’re a shoo-in, there is no plan B. She’s going to school X and there is literally no way she won’t get in. There aren’t any other kids her age who live between us and the school. Well one, but she’s not going. It’ll be fine!
On the day: Facebook is imploding with the sheer mass of parents celebrating or commiserating today. Everyone knows already and I haven’t even got out of bed yet.
Wait, the website says the emails aren’t being sent out til 4. 4!! How is our county so rubbish? Lazy buggers, they’ve had months! Still, it’s fine. I’m sure we’re getting in. No sweat.
About 1pm: Hold on, why is everyone else getting emails before me?
Here it is! Nope. Just another bloody spam email. Fuck you Top Cashback, unsubscribe. In your face.
By 3pm: Where is my email? What order are these in? Is it alphabetical? Why did I marry someone at the wrong end of the sodding alphabet?
Wait, her surname comes after mine! This isn’t bloody fair! What is it, pupil number? School? NO! There is NO REASON OR RHYME. This is driving me mad.
4pm: Better check my emails, make sure I actually did apply and didn’t just dream it or something.
Wait, there should be a confirmation surely? There’s no confirmation. Shit. Starting to get a little bit anxious now…
My friend has just found out her council screwed up and her daughter has no place. Get this; they had to send the application across the county border and FORGOT TO SEND THE EMAIL ATTACHMENT**. What the hell?! Even I’m not that bloody incompetent. What if that’s me as well?!
4.07pm (Email comes through): First choice place confirmed. Breathe out. I knew it.
[clickToTweet tweet=”Top tip: Guarantee your first choice of primary place by choosing the school over the road with a bad Ofsted report.” quote=”Top tip: Guarantee your first choice of primary place by choosing the school over the road with a bad Ofsted report.*”]
She’s surprisingly aware of the whole going-to-school thing, for a four year old. She came out of preschool on offer day asking whether she was going to Big School now, and was pretty annoyed when I said she still had to wait a few months.
To be honest, it can’t come soon enough which I appreciate might make me sound like a terrible parent wishing both our lives away, but trust me on this.
It will be much better for both of us.
She is so ready to go to school.
Having a four and a half year old at home is like having a messy, stroppy teenager around the house all day, but one that gets up early, has a lot more energy and can’t be trusted to use a breadknife.
When I used to take my then teeny-tiny baby along to toddler groups, there would always be one huge, hulking child at least a head taller than every other kid.
They’d be running about, not looking and threatening to take out the babies, and I’d be thinking Surely they should be at school. I’m fairly sure that one is growing a moustache!
That’s my child. (Without the moustache, obviously).
Her mind is like a little sponge, soaking up as much as it can. She’s needs to learn, but I have neither the patience or the knowledge to deal with the un-ending stream of questions. There is a very good reason I wouldn’t consider homeschooling.
Yes, we have a lot of term-time trips to get out of the way first.
I’m quite sure as soon as she starts I’ll miss having her around so much.
It will be emotional in all kinds of ways.
But it’s going to be a very long five months.
*It’s a lovely school. Ofsted are rubbish.
**It ended up OK as the school had spaces but still, maddening incompetence there I’m sure you’ll agree.