Connor is in Grade 5.
Though Grade 8 seems like an awfully long way away – the days of arriving at the front gate and pushing your child into which ever school you chose, just does not exist any more.
Or might, and the school system I am familiar with is just making my life challenging.
It is now all about frantic mothers (dads appear to be about as interested in this as they were in attending pre-natal classes) comparing schools in the primary school parking lot, googling until you break a nail, and applying to every school you think MIGHT just be right for your child.
Government schools cannot (technically) keep waiting lists, so they have to let you know in June-August of the year your child is in Grade 7 as to whether he or she is accepted. Problem there is if they tell you that your acceptance has been denied then you are sitting with a child whose primary school career is about to end, and no where to send him.
The schools suggest applying to no less than three!
If you are lucky enough to live in a catchment area of a high school, that of course increases your odds of getting accepted into the school – I believe they have to take you if you fall within the residential zone, unfortunately for us who only have a Woolworths and a Liquor Store, well then you need to start finding a school.
Yesterday the kind folks at Somerset College gave Kennith and I a tour and a little meet and greet. I do not want to say that I would sell my gonads for a place in that school, but I would definitely put Kennith’s on ebay and consider all opening bids.
The school is un-flipping-believable.
I do think that fact that it is surrounded by wine farms does make me even more fond of it than I could already be.
I kept waiting for something horrible to appear. A reason why I would not want to spend a home loan payment per month on a school for my child – I even checked the toilets just in case they had not been using Jeyes fluid.
We were shown around the campus, and I swooned …. the classes were lovely, the hostel facilities were great, the children who we met were friendly polite and you did not get that rather “icky feeling of too rich parents with spoilt horrible children” that one does experience on occasion at schools that cater to those in the slightly higher earning/tax brackets.
When we got back to the car Kennith pipes up: “Is there anything about that school you did not like?”
Unfortunately starting with the creme of schools unfortunately is going to be make viewing the next six a bit of an exercise in : “For the love of gd can we not just send the kids to Somerset College and sell blood and sperm on line to try to afford it?”