Miss Independence

As the eldest beautiful daughter has reached the grand old age of 18 with neither a filling or an asbo, the time has come to pass where she must find something to do to replace school.

There have been a few posts upon this subject both here and on mad manic mamas which is the other site that lets me spout my gospel on an unsuspecting public.

We have now reached the stage in the university application process where she cannot bear to hear another word upon the subject. This is always exacerbated by Tuesdays. On Tuesdays I work with my very good friend, the grown up, per Una cardigan wearing, Daily Mail reading Susan. Susan has a son who is the same age as my eldest (she has more children, also very good friends with my more children too)

Susan takes the university application process very seriously and her parents guide to uni application book is now the Bible. We discuss the progress of our offspring's application every Tuesday. This scares me and reassures me in equal measure, Susan knows so much more about it, I get scared and then come home and tell EBD what Susan says. EBD doesn't want to know and has taken me out of the information loop. What Susan knows scares EBD too, and as she is my child, has gone into the land adjacent to mummy denial land, teenager denial land. But she has a duvet pulled over her head.

Last night twas particularly stressful, EBD has a big 5 hour interview today, for her first choice course in her first (and in her head only choice) university. She has a maths test, an interview and a presentation. They are quite specific in their remit. She chooses a poem to read and present an analysis of. She has to bring all sorts of stuff and I want to actually check her bag, actually I want to pack her bag like I did when she was 5.

I am not allowed to be involved, because previously I checked she had sent her reply slip to confirm her interview and checked she'd told work she may be slightly late as she wasn't coming straight from school. She is going to do this all by her own self, so last night she discovers that the poem she has left to the last minute to do, is 140 words, and she needs 250-300. So frantic poem searching starts, then we find that there is no word installed on any computer in this house, when we resolve this is when we discover the printer has no ink.

And all the time I'm trying not to get cross because she, as usual, has left it all to the last minute.

So please send all kinds of positive thoughts her way today, she really will be an amazing primary school teacher, she just needs to be accepted on the course first. So any wee helpful thoughts or magic spells you can do will be much appreciated.