When I was at school it was pretty awesome to get a B at GCSE and it does make me sad that for my daughter a B is something she sees as a little bit of a fail. Well B stands for Bullshit in my little head. What complete bullshit that the pressure is put on these children to make them think that way. My Boo Boo is on course to get a a couple of Bs and pretty much everything else is the holy grail and some with the-little-aren’t-I-just-super-dooper-brilliant little star. Do not get me wrong I am so immensely proud of her but even if she gets – dare I even drop the C bomb – my heart will still burst with pride. Rant over. Actually no it isn’t. I am going again…..
I got what would be classed as terrible GCSE grades nowadays. Epic fail. Nowadays – only old people say that don’t they. Shit. Nowadays – it is just such a handy word I cannot help myself – I perhaps would have been steered away and taken down another avenue as I would not have been seen as academic. My parents allowed me the time to do A Levels. Thank god. Those two years made all the difference.
I went to college and could wear jeans. I felt like a little rebel. I felt grown up. I found me – sounds a load of crap does it not? Well that me I found seemed to understand what all these teachers were saying. They believed in me and I did that blossoming thing you hear of. I completely nailed it (if I do say so myself) and from a world of Cs and Ds I rocked out of college with As and not in bullshit made up subjects either. I even got an A in English Lit and in English Lang. Can you not tell with my eloquent turn of phrase and excessive use of expletives? From not knowing WTF I was going to do with my life after leaving school I ended up as a journalist before I took a ride on the baby train. Turns out it was Southern Rail and it took me quite some time to get off the train but it was very beautiful when I arrived. Enough about me though.
My eldest is taking her Mocks. GCSEs. It is ridiculous as it only feels like five minutes ago she started playgroup?! So what can we do as parents to make this time of Mocks a little bit easier. My gorgeous angelic Boo Boo was turning into a monster of tears and tantrums, bordering on panic attacks when the revision started to build. There is no pressure from us. We do the whole if you have tried your best speech malarky. The Boo puts stress on herself. Perhaps it comes from school, perhaps it is a peer thing but mostly she puts the pressure on herself. Wherever it has comes from it’s shit. I just want to help her? Have you seen GCSE work recently? I did not understand it back in the day (belongs up there with Nowdays) so I sure as hell haven’t a clue now. So what can I do to help? I can make things pretty. NB This pretty shit may not work so well with my boys but for now I am working with the female members of our team so go with me on this and we will cross the boy bridge when we get there.
Now these kids do not come with instruction manuals so we are purely #wingingit as parents so I had no idea whether this was going to be of any help at all but it turns out that pretty is, well, pretty feckin’ awesome. Removing the study from her bedroom has given her a sanctuary. Somewhere to escape to and relax. The Boo seems much calmer for now. It also shows that we are thinking of her. We are trying to be there and help. Without actually saying anything. The area downstairs does not take up to much space. Motivational artwork, Music to hand. Trolls. What more could she want? Some days I leave a little treat on her desk. A snack, a pen or a lovely notebook. If you take a peek at my Instagram you will see where all these bits and bobs above came from.
The Boo seems much calmer for now. I take that as mini Vickie-tory.
That’s my name you see. Vickie. Get it. I know. Genius all round.