After weeks of relative calm since the exams ended, the nervous energy levels ratcheted up again. The undercurrent of worry and whining was replaced by yelping and excited chatter as my son and his friends met up again in the school they’ve now left behind. Few events in their young lives are this dramatic.
They had the choice to go to the school and pick up the results or wait until they were posted online some hours later. School won out in my lad’s case. Then for the plain A4 brown paper envelope with the results. It looked innocuous yet dangerous at the same time.
Yelping
Our roles as parents are invariably those of observers, celebrants, comforters, taxi drivers, funders and all other things domestic. It’s our time too though.
I did my share of yelping too when my son brought home that brown envelope. I had been driving when he was picking up his results and told him not to ring or text me in case I crashed the car.
I pegged it home nevertheless, arriving in to find him on the phone to his grand-aunt, looking animated and showing plenty of white teeth in his broad, lovely grin.
I looked at the page he was reading from and, initially lost for words, I resorted to some colourful language.
He had done well. Looked like he had enough points for his chosen course, with some to spare. Brill. Monday permitting, that is . . .
This year has produced a bumper crop of CAO applicants, so many they would almost fill Croke Park.
Numbers
That’s a lot of young people looking for college places. The numbers have expanded on previous years and so too have the points needed for many of the courses, including the one my lad is hoping for.
I envied their choice of courses when looking at the CAO form earlier in the year. They had so many options and so many great courses open to them – at least on the face of it.
We did the rounds of open days and evening talks, and they were eye-opening and attractive. The facilities and the subjects and the combinations were great. I wanted to be at that stage again, with such an array of choices available.
I envied the students starting out but, that said, I don’t envy them the shifting raffle of offers they face next Monday.
That pause between results and offers is a bit nerve-jangling. For everyone, those on the high-wire and their families below it.
My son won’t know till Monday if he’s got his first choice, but his principal has told him he has “a shoe in the door” on it. Fingers, toes and eyebrows crossed that he’s right.
