All the High School Feels

A sizeable element of my extreme busy-ness at the moment is to do with the Middlest Child and his impending foray into high school.

Not just my annual involvement in the graduation of the primary school’s grade 6 cohort, nor this year’s brilliant idea that I put together a digital presenation for the ceremony. To whit I am remarkably surprised there weren’t more fucks, to be honest.

Is it wrong to state that I am bloody sick of looking at and listenting to the small number of graduating students? I probably shouldn’t tell their parents that though, yeah?

Anyhoo, that is now done. In amongst all of that, there have been the ordering of school books, the attending of information evenings, and the trying to work out the uniform thing. Much of which will be whatever hand me downs the biggest one hasn’t covered in paint because … I don’t know, someone decided to paint his shirt one day … because … teenagers and stupid shit.

Then there’s been the High School Going To anxiety; yet with my delightful little cherub, all manner of recommendations to help ease his mind appear to be having the opposite effect. His near shutting down turned to complete shutdown when the whole group did an activity, designed by professionals and experts specifically to address this sort of thing.

Even more … well, frustrating? … is that although the school were playing with the idea of this sort of thing, it was his behaviour that inspired them to introduce the resource this year. So that was all fun for everyone … o.O

Thankfully, his older brother has returned from his sojourn in Germany, and was able to be coerced into ensuring his little brother was well taken care of for his Orientation day today.

The coercion was possibly easier because I took full advantage of the fact that he was jet-lagged, overtired, dazed and confused. I reserve the right to use some things to my advantage …

Godzilla did go this morning, albeit a little morose and emo. I’m not sure how much of it is genuine, and how much he is expecting a particular sort of reaction from us. I did ask him what he is wanting me to do when he behaves like this, just so I can attempt to get something right (or outright refuse to) but he was unable to articulate his desires.

Basically, that leaves us both screwed.

Which is somewhat frustrating.

Anyhoo, after his orientation into the land of smelly teenagers and a variety of teachers, he has his official primary school graduation ceremony. Where I get to sit through the all of the speeches I helped the kids with, and get to watch,

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