Well, we got through day one of the HSC. Note my use of the term “we”. I’m not invested in this at all.
My son started his HSC this week and it’s been a rollicking ride to this point. A few years ago I remember talking to a woman about her daughter who was weeks away from doing her HSC. “How is she going?” I asked, my own future experience looming large as I sought clues on how to navigate it. “I don’t even care how she does anymore, I just want it to be over,” she replied with a mix of anguish, impatience and exhaustion.
I thought this was a little melodramatic, frankly. I was perplexed about why the HSC would have taken a toll on her as a parent and I didn’t get why she was feeling so overwhelmed.
Like Debrief Daily on Facebook.
Now I understand everything. The exhaustion, the anguish, the anxiety, the stress, the overwhelm. The eagerness for it to Just Be Over. I’m there and I’m living it and it’s all about me.
Wait, it’s not. It’s about my son. I know that. Mostly. But it’s been a special challenge trying to work out what my role is during this whole process. And my God, is it a process.
The hardest part about being a writer who is also the mother of a teenager is that you are forbidden to write about any of it. So I’m not going to say much about my son’s HSC experience except that he’s studied really hard for a really long time and I haven’t had to nag him at all. Truth.
But I’ve been surprised at how all-encompassing it’s been for me as his mother.