Year Twelve Hurts More The Second Time

That final year of school is tough: you have assignment after assignment to contend with. Pesky teachers on your back about ‘progress’.

Your parents just don’t seem to understand or remember how hard it is. You wish you could just cruise around in the car alone for once. You fantasise about solitary road trips to Margaret River to watch boys surf.

You never have time to read just for fun. The stress that gets dumped on you is almost unbearable. The tears, the lack of compassion from friends, the parties you have to either miss or leave early….

AND THAT’S JUST ME.

…why didn’t anyone tell me that Year 12 would be this hard the second time around?

I can only imagine what it’s like for my daughter, the one actually having to show up at school (most days); parents pretending not to be completely strung out, whispering to each other late at night about the logistics of taking an escape break somewhere without the kids. Mostly, stupid cruel parents making her to go to school. Every friggin’ weekday. And so it goes until 3.00pm November 28.

How to get through? Some lucky mothers have jobs to go to. Escape to there, make it your happy place. Those of us unemployed need other distractions. While I do wish ASOS wouldn’t keep doing their irresistible 20% off everything every second day, that has provided a little exciting spike in amongst the spiky angst. Thanks to some very stylish friends, I picked up some great biker boots the other day, it was the day before two quite big tests (Geography and French, I believe) so they were fairly expensive.

Then there’s yoga, only beware buying a ten-pass voucher and letting it expire past the extension you asked for because you just haven’t had a moment calm/alone/organised/motivated enough to get yourself to a class. It’s stress-loading yoga when you waste a whole pass, not stress-relieving.

Running – and talking about running – has probably been the greatest saviour physically for me. Alone with the dog, the wind in my hair, sometimes some music on my iPod. Below is what I listened to this morning.

Later I had coffee with one of my running pals, she of the fabulous red hair and extensive Lululemon wardrobe and we talked splits, tempo runs, mileage, races: it was like taking a short weekender losing myself in run-talk.

My oldest daughter has really good taste in music and she happily shares it with me. She has discovered the eighties (soundtrack to my life, sista!) and while I have done the right thing and put her in front of Sixteen Candles for research purposes, she has come up with some great stuff without any help from us, such as this little gem – a cover version by Ohio band Cobra Verde of New Order’s Temptation. They also do a haunting slow version of The Rolling Stones Play With Fire.

If I am completely honest my two daughters scare the living daylights out of me. They are much smarter, more determined and confident, savvy and beautiful than me. I’m not quite sure how it should all work, and I am quite tough under this soft (don’t laugh!) exterior so imagine how bamboozled my poor gentle peace-loving husband is. He lives in perpetual bewilderment.

Fortunately there is the best relief of all – friends who have been there, done that and are undamaged enough to be able to recall the terror of seeing their own kids through the end of school and pass on words of wisdom or comfort, like “it only lasts a year per child” and “don’t attempt to give up wine or chocolate for Lent” and “there, there, it’ll be okay.” Seriously all anyone really wants is to know that someone else has trod this path, whatever path that may be, and gets where you’re at. It applies to pretty much any stress we encounter in life, big and small.

Sometimes we just need someone to cry with, even if there’s no actual crying involved.

I suspect things will be quieter as our son goes through this in two years time, but just for a laugh we have another daughter headed towards Year 12. Although not for another eleven years. Rob has suggested we use this time gap to regroup, travel a little, swim regularly, perhaps a little counselling.

Apparently there’s a maths assignment due tomorrow so I may just pop off now and have another look at that nail polish I was reading about the other day…