Yesterday was graduation day, and the world’s most perfect teenager officially received his IB Diploma.

I asked him if he was happy now. He looked at me and said: “Mom, this is more of a participation prize for surviving the entire IB programme. The real prize comes in four weeks when I get my actual grades.”

I understand him completely.

Imagine studying intensely for two years, only for your final result to be decided by 13 exams squeezed into a three-week period. Nothing else matters — not your performance throughout the course, not your assignments, not class participation. Just these 13 make-or-break exams.

So no, he can’t really relax and feel proud yet. Not until he knows how he actually did.

I’m incredibly glad he and his girlfriend are heading off to Croatia for two weeks next week. At least the waiting will happen with a view, good food, and some distance from all the pressure.

…though of course, as soon as he leaves the country, I immediately get a brand new thing to worry about. Because that’s what mothers do. There’s always something.

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This is a new post on the new dewlar.me blog.
You can find the old blog here:https://mrsdewlar.blogspot.com

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