Last night, I caught a glimpse of a reward. A shiny, sparkly dose of achievement, pride, and gratefulness. In the often thankless labour of love called parenting, I’m taking it and basking in it.
My twin boys are gearing up for secondary school in 2020 and last night they attended an interview at the school we hope they’ll attend. Here in Melbourne, where one goes to school is a Very.Big.Thing. For Hubster and me, who grew up in Brisbane and Adelaide respectively, we’re not wholly on board with this philosophy. For us, it’s not such a big deal. Sure, a good school can provide a solid base, but who is to say that dropping $20k per year, per child makes it decent, and can guarantee the quality of an education?
Back to last night and the interview. I sat quietly in the room while Twin 2 spoke to the staff member, then again when Twin 1 had his turn. I answered the questions directed to me, but listened and watched while they answered the ones directed to them. They were polite, measured, articulate and funny. My heart swelled, burst right of my chest with pride and thankfulness. Tears brimmed in my eyes.
For T2, particularly, I soared on the wings of pride. He struggles academically. We’re currently undergoing another series of educational tests, and an appointment is made for a paediatrician in a few week’s time to discover what neurological problems are the cause of his learning blockages. To see him speak so thoughtfully and with such excitement over his schooling brings gratification. Hubster and I must be doing something right.
My boys are growing up. And, if what I witnessed last night is any indication, I’ve got a feeling they’ll turn out just fine.