Mother in Law: Year 6 - last year as a Big Fish

Well, last month, Deceptively Angelic Child 1 (DALC1) made it to Year 6. Bearing in mind, like Judy Blume’s Rachel Robinson, she was born aged 35, it has actually taken her a while to get there.

On sports day each year, the Year 6s all look after a reception class member. When DALC1 was in reception, this hulk of an 11 year old - about 6 foot 3, wearing a bra, pierced ears, probably a couple of tattoos under her PE kit - had been assigned to look after. She made such a good job of it I bought her some sweets the following week. I guessed she would probably have preferred a packet of fags but I stuck with Haribo. Anyway, I remember thinking my child was never going to be that grown up. It seemed light years away. But I’ve blinked and here we are.

I mean, it was a long blink. I’ve watched her class and six classes below her sing 'Dingle Dangle Scarecrow' at seven harvest festivals. By the end of the year I will have ironed her 1,365 school shirts. I’ve actually had to buy almost that many as she still can’t eat a whole meal without staining them with ketchup. When she started school she used to pluck my grey hairs and now that is not a viable option. The little rabbit that HAD to go to bed with her hasn’t been seen in months and no one has mentioned it. What were skinny little plaits are now thick like rope. Of course, she has 'curtain bangs'. And at each point, perhaps because she is my eldest, she has seemed so old to me and it is only looking back that I realise she wasn’t and still isn’t.

But there is something special about being in Year 6. On the first day back in September, her and her classmates all stood together waiting for their special classroom gate to open, like a scene from a John Hughes movie. They hadn’t even walked in as Year 6s yet but they knew they were in charge. They were - as they would put it - flexing. Or vibing. Something like that. There would be no sitting on the hall floor for them - oh no, they had the benches.

I don’t think it is accidental that they feel like this - I think it is quite deliberate on the part of the headteacher. In the words of Spiderman’s uncle: with great power (walking home on your own) comes great responsibility (remembering to bring your lunch box and guitar).

Every year in the school plays I have seen the Year 5s singing awkwardly, slouching and generally wanting the ground to swallow them up, and the year 6s owning the main parts. You will appreciate these are the same children 12 months on. I cannot wait to see this year’s transformation.

They will also go on a five day residential trip before the end of the summer term. The one I went on and came back with no hair on my legs, to my mum’s horror. I’ve welled up when I have seen other people’s children lugging their suitcases to school each year so I don’t know how I am going to cope when it is my child, but I know she will have the time of her life.

The school motto is something from the bible about living life in all its fullness. When the headteacher showed us around the school and told us this in 2016, I was like 'yeah but what about the Eleven Plus', but he was right. Living life in all its fullness is exactly what she should be doing, is doing - and certainly wouldn’t be doing if the homeschooling had continued. It is certainly what she should be doing if she wants to be a lawyer or any other job where she has to relate to other people. I will always worry about her, and for the avoidance of doubt she is still very, very annoying, but this year I’m worrying less and just watching her enjoy her last year as a Big Fish.

Some facts and identities have been altered in the above article