Bed of Heaven

Life has been a little fraught of late, hence the lack of posts. Two reasons for this are the fledglings who have both had their academic worries this week. Miss P has been sweating on whether she would get an offer from her university of choice. Sadly the answer was no, but given that there were 1,700 for 96 places, it was always going to be a longshot.

You can imagine her disappointment and we’re hoping it doesn’t put her off her studies because she has been working really hard and there is always Plan B where she has been offered a place.

Then there is Master P who is in many ways the more academic of our brood, but while Miss P makes up an application, our lad lets himself down in attitude. The thing is, he doesn’t suffer fools gladly and unfortunately there are two or three among the teaching staff at his school and our lad isn’t very good at hiding his feelings.

So we went along to his parents’ evening on Monday fearing the worst. I know it’s my age, but blimey some of those teachers looked young and I got the impression from two that we met that they were fish flapping about on the shore.

The good news is that he is still on course for good grades, but we are going to have to lean on him to a) ignore what he thinks about his teachers and to take advantage of what they have to offer, ie learning, and b) knuckle down and do the bloody homework!

But if life has been stressful, then relaxation is at hand. The new bed I’ve mentioned previously arrived today. It’s one of those memory-foam jobbies, as developed by NASA (no, I didn’t know that astronauts had beds or bad backs either) and I can’t wait to try it.

Sadly, I won’t be able to immediately tell you if or how well it works as I’m off to Cumbria tomorrow morning for a couple of days for work, but I’m back on Friday.

Nobody’s prefect. If you find any spelling mistakes or other errors in this post, please let me know by highlighting the text and pressing Ctrl+Enter.

1 comment… Add yours
  • Steve 27th April 2006

    salford’s picking up a good reputation (the uni that is – I went 😉 – the Convocation make me write such things), although I would always recommend that the young undergraduate cuts the apron strings and buggers off somewhere where the parental units will have a long way to drive to get to.

    Fuckin’up (or otherwise) on your own is an essential part of growing – for kids AND parents.

    As fert’young’un…he’ll thrive. He has intelligent, caring parents. Carry on and all will be well.

    I know just how you feel.


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