Big son has just gone out to brave the motorway to get to yet another interview at noon. At least he’s getting the interviews and second interviews, but as yet no graduate job. I’m sure children don’t appreciate the anxieties of their parents – I want the best for him, but know there is nothing I can do when he’s at this interview.
He’s continued to surprise me through his educational years getting ten GCSEs when I’d resigned myself to him getting none, these were followed by three A Levels and an AS. He graduated in the summer with a 2:1 in Business Studies and Marketing and I cried all the way home after the graduation ceremony. I think I was letting out the tension of struggling with a dyslexic child through the sausage machine of education – his reading age was 8 when he went to secondary school.
Anyway back to today, I knew he’d shout if I did it, but this morning I was tempted to press a lucky button into his hand when he left. I gave him a button once when he was scared at nursery and told him to press it whenever he felt scared. Needless to say he lost it, but I’d tried. So I’ve sent him out, tall and smart this morning with a metaphorical lucky button and a blast of Reiki. Good luck son. Maybe today is your lucky day.
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