What I should have been doing today....

But instead I spent all morning and most of the afternoon doing homework with Molly. Well, I say doing homework, more like calming her down when it all gets too much. Even with trying to keep on top of it all this week she still had 4 pieces to do/finish. The art was the real difficult one, so much frustration - she really, really wants to do it well, but so far hasn't made that step up from childish drawing to the sort of drawing the teacher will expect.

Eventually, after 2-3 hours of off and on trying to get it right, she was 80% finished when we decided that enough was enough and she needed a break. But after lunch we started her RE; photos of all the churches in Pocklington and a little research to describe them. That took ages as well. I wouldn't mind if she was thick - but Molly's bloody bright and yet it still gives her so much grief getting it all done - so much of it coming at her all at once, she's overwhelmed right now.

And tomorrow - it's History. Aaaaarrrrgh.

So no, I didn't get along to the Leeds Alternative Comics Fair, we were finished with homework today around 3, and by the time I'd have travelled across by bus and train it would have been too late. Likewise car, petrol and parking would have been a right pain.

Oh well, maybe next time eh?

She loved it.....

But we knew that she would. Came home today and was excitedly going through her planner almost before she got through the door.

On secondary schools and the terrible reality of being a parent....

Molly goes to her new school in a very few hours. She's a predictable mix of excited and nervous, obsessing somewhat over getting lost, wondering whether she'll be in the same groups as her friends, who her teachers will be and countless other little questions.

We've spent the last few days living the cliché of parents watching their child growing up. And the oldest cliché of them all is sadly true. It does genuinely feel like just a moment since we were getting her ready for her first day at nursery or her first day at primary school back in Birmingham, a tiny thing in school uniform nervously approaching the playground for the first time. And now she's off to big school. A new uniform, a new start, more children.

And it's wonderful, marvellous to see her, looking so grown up, so independent. Yet it's horrible at the same time, because every step towards independence, every day she grows older is another day, another step towards that glorious, awful day that she doesn't really need us any longer.

The role of a parent, at least those that do it properly is to prepare your child to leave, and to rejoice in them doing so, confident that you've done your job properly. And if you do it right, it will break your heart when they do, holding the tears in until they turn the corner.

And that's how we felt tonight, laying out her things for school in the morning, immeasurably proud, so full of love for our little baby, our little girl. And then, once she was in bed, then I started thinking about how quickly she'd grown up and how things would change so quickly now. It's so sad, so wonderful, grief and loss in a way, but something to rejoice as well.

So here's to Molly, my little girl, my gorgeous wonderful girl. From the first moment I saw her, 11 years back, I knew my future was set. And I'd have it no other way.

Secondary School tomorrow.....

And much as I'd love to, I wont be going there with her.

School's Out - Oh, yes, there were tears....

Today was Molly's final day of Primary School. Louise and I already knew the sort of emotional day we were due, having already had a phone call from school yesterday telling us Molly would be home a little late because she was really upset saying goodbye to one of the little ones who was off on holiday and wouldn't make the last day.

So off we toddled to the leaver's assembly at Molly's school. And it was a wonderful assembly - with a lot of non-dry eyes all round. They had speeches, they had some gorgeous photos of Year 6 through the years, they had presents and all of us parents were ever so proud of our gorgeous children.

Molly actually kept it together quite well during the assembly, but later on when we went to pick her up she was red eyed and just couldn't stop bursting into tears everytime she saw someone else in school that she was going to miss. The thing with Molly's school is that there's only four classes and all of the older children look after the younger ones, something Molly is really going to miss. So she spent 20 minutes after school hugging the little ones and crying, and crying, and crying some more.

We did manage to fulfill one ambition that Molly had though - she's always wanted a picture of Mikey (#1 cuddly toy and has been for a long time) with her teacher, and here it is.....

All in all, a wonderful day, incredibly emotional, full of happy memories - exactly as it should be. next up, 6 weeks of holiday for both of us and then onto the adventure that is secondary school.

Luckily, both Louise and I know that Molly's such a wonderful, gorgeous, grounded and lovely child that she's going to have a great time there.

But today was very special, and none of us can believe that it was only 6 years ago we were tentatively walking Molly into her first day at St Chads in Birmingham, a tiny, quiet thing in a uniform that was equally unbearably cute and just a little too big. She left today wearing a shirt covered in graffiti and very red eyes, much bigger, much older but still my gorgeous little girl. Then again, she's always our gorgeous little girl and always will be.

Countdown to end of term, countdown to a new school.....

Two weeks to go. 10 days. And then it's the summer holidays.

I could start telling you about the amazing amount of work I've got to fit in between now and then, but I'm not going to. Because this year, this summer is a major moment for Molly. It's the end of primary school, the end of Year 6. She goes to secondary in September and is ridiculously excited about it. Maybe a little nervous as well. But mostly excited.

Today was the first of a whole host of leavers things; her prizegiving. Not quite as exciting as last year when she was made head girl, but a lovely, slightly sad afternoon. Molly, as head girl, had to make a long speech with the head boy talking about everything their year has down and did it brilliantly. It's all too easy to forget just how bloody great Molly is, after a few moody strops and sulks too many when she's at home. But sometimes all we have to do is talk to people who aren't her parents or see her in action and we realise how absolutely lovely, clever and special she is.

Strangely there were no tears from the Year 6 leavers, but our inside source tells us that they've been practising the special leavers assembly for next week and they're weeping just at the rehearsal. Oh dear.

Anyway, pictures from the prizegiving....

and here they are, the class of 2010......

The secondary school thing...

Molly has her place at the secondary school she decided she wanted to go to (more on that back here). It's the one up the road. About 5-10 minutes walk away. Not that it was ever going to be an issue. I feel for those families we left behind who are going through the nightmare of trying to explain to their little ones that they don't get to go to school with their best friends and there's nothing mummy or daddy can do about it.

But I still remember the wave of relief that Louise and I felt on our first visit to Molly's primary school when we asked the question about entry criteria for secondary schools in the area. Automatic entry to either the local comp or a Catholic school in York. That just confused us and we had to check. Yes, automatic entry meant exactly what we thought it meant. A little different from the idea we were used to back in Birmingham.

So the thing that would have been giving us nightmares and cold sweats in Birmingham we sailed through in Pocklington. It almost makes us feel guilty. Almost. But it is one of the main reasons we moved up here after all. And it's worked out wonderfully well.

It's all worked out wonderfully well. Pocklington still feels like a holiday destination that we just happen to be lucky enough to be living in. It's a great feeling. But most importantly of all, our little girl, who's not so little any more, is going exactly where she wants to be going for the next 5, maybe 7 years.

Growing up is hard to do..... Molly makes the secondary school decision

Last week Molly, Louise and I headed over to another secondary school to have a look around. We did the local Pocklington one a while back and Molly really loved it. This time it was the York Catholic school.

I've talked about the secondary school thing before. Quick summary: Back in Birmingham we were terrified by the lack of choice we had. Either send her to the local comp (not going to happen - absolutely awful school, probably has the metal detectors in by now), try to get her into King Edwards Grammar (then 1 in 8000 applicants successful - now? maybe 1 in 12,000?) or go private. None of them were really an option. And we were worried. Really, really worried.

But when we looked at Pocklington we were told that she had automatic entry to either the local Pocklington comp or the York Catholic school. The relief was amazing. Both schools are academically about the same based on the % scores and we soon decided we could easily leave it up to Molly to decide.

So, back to now. We've seen the Pocklington comp and all three of us thought it was really good. The plus side is the local thing and the great feeling we had. The minus - big school. But we're all agreed it's lovely and Louise and I think (and everyone we speak to agrees) that Molly would do well there - although she's just the sort of kid who'd do well anywhere really.

So off we head to York for the catholic school open evening. And it was lovely, a mazey rat warren of a place, "charming" was how Louise put it, but both Louise and I knew that we still preferred the local Pocklington comp. Which meant we both started wondering how we could persuade Molly to favour our choice, despite promising that we'd let her decide. Luckily we didn't need to. After the tour we sat down to listen to the various speeches from deputy heads - and even before they started Molly leaned across to Louise and told her she wanted to go to the other one.

So it's decided. We sent the online application off last week. Molly's picked her secondary school. Another step towards not being my little baby anymore. I'm incredibly sad but also excited for her. She's growing up and there's nothing I can do about it.

Pointless parents evenings

Tonight is parents evening at Molly's school. At which we shall sit down, have a nice chat with her teacher and agree that our daughter is:
Lovely,
A credit to us,
Well rounded,
Well liked by all,
Pretty much guaranteed to do well whichever secondary school she picks
Great at Literacy,
Not quite so great at Maths.
Then we shall spend the last 5 minutes of the parents evening slot chatting about other stuff.

I'm certainly not saying that parents evening is a complete waste of time, and certainly there are some parents who really need to go to them and really need to be told the complete truth about their little darlings. But quite often, most of the parents who need to go to parents evening don't turn up because they can't be bothered, because they are crap parents and that's why their offspring is a troublesome oik in the first place.

Still, always nice to have a chat with Molly's teacher.

The secondary school thing.....

When Molly was born she was already booked in at a local nursery. When Molly was 1 she'd got herself a place at the primary school we wanted her to go to. Sure, that had meant me lying to a nun about my religious beliefs - but then again Church Of England isn't that far away from complete agnostic is it? Louise wanted the catholic thing, not me. Although when we looked around at the primary school choices it was obvious to me that Catholic was the unfortunate route we had o go down - hence the lying to a nun.

And before we moved up to Pocklington we were beginning to get a touch worried about where on earth she was going to go to secondary school even though she was only in Year 1 at the time. Our basic choice of secondary school in Birmingham ran: Local comp, King Edward's Grammar, Private. The local comp was the sort where they probably have metal detectors by now. King Edward's Grammar has something like one place for every thousand applicants and private was a little out of our price range.

Moving up here, one of the first questions we asked at the primary school we wanted for her was what secondary schools were available. After Birmingham it was amazing to hear that it was automatic entry to one of two schools; the local Pocklington comp or the York Catholic school.
The relief was amazing. No more worrying. We could just leave it until she got to Year 6 and then let her decide.

And back then Year 6 seemed so far away. But not anymore. Last week we went for the first of two open evenings for Molly. This was the local Pocklington comp. As you would expect, they laid on everything they could to impress, and for Molly it worked. She's talked of nothing else since. Me, not so impressed - remember, I used to work in secondary schools and know exactly how much veneer and polish is applied for these open evenings. But nonetheless, it's a good place for her to go. The advantage is that it's a good school, results are good (although to be honest I have very little worries there - Molly's honestly the sort of kid who'd do well almostanywhere) and it's local - a 10 minute walk. But that's the disadvantage as well - living in such a small town means that going to the local comp rather limits her. Plus it's big - 1200 odd.

In a few weeks we're off to the York Catholic school. Advantage - split sites, with Year 7,8 & 9 on one smaller site - making it feel like a much smaller place than the Pock comp. Disadvantage - it's an extra hour morning and night on the bus into York for her.

But, no matter what, we're determined that it is still her decision. At the moment, having only seen the local comp, she's sold on that one. But once she sees the other she may change her mind. I'll be sure to let you know.

Of course, the most horrible thing in all of this is that my baby is growing up. It's just not fair, not fair at all.