I find myself breaking out in a sweat whenever the school topic comes up at dinner parties. I might actually be forced into home schooling as the very thought of trawling through school grounds and interviewing teachers who really couldn’t care one way or the other whether the child who is my prince attends his school or not makes me want to break the parenting deal that requires me to educate to the best of my ability.
My child is four. He is perfect in every way … like everyone’s child, of course. I wanted to give him away for the first two years of his life and am only really getting to know him now that he has wormed him way into my blood like a parasite I am now loathe to get rid of because I would die without it.
Now, when I watch him sleeping, I realise the significance of what has been entrusted to me and it is enough to make me feel suffocated with the pressure of being the perfect mother to this perfect human child.
He changes every day and it the most incredible human being I have ever met so the thought of leaving him in the care of an institution each day, terrifies me. I don’t have great memories of school – and the ones I do have are tainted by too much booze and Tippex thinners – so I need to know my child so much better before I can feel qualified to pick an appropriate schooling system. Of course, I am fully aware of the fact that he won’t get in anywhere now because most people pick the school for their child while they are in the act of procreation.
So, now what? I don’t know. I honestly don’t know how to chose something so fundamentally important – something that will have such a huge impact on this person who is relying on me so heavily to do good by him.
Which brings me to the next post …
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