early start since there is a fair amount of logistical planning required in order to get the tribe ready and assembled in the correct uniform with the right book bags and sports kit. I am generally a bit crap at this, so my job is to set the alarm clock the night before and to roll over and wake up Di when it goes off. I generally manage to get this bit right. After the customary new uniform photo, Rhiannon took herself off, Di took the little ones and I walked with Imogen up to Mount Intermediate. There was something of a throng of kids waiting for the bell, and I hung on until the last minute before they all bundled off into the hall.Phoebe apparently was in a completely different class to last year and all of her friends were missing. This is no surprise as she is younger than most of them by some margin. Initially devastated, she cheered up when given a job to do, namely keeping the tables clean.
Three o'clock comes around, and I pick up Imogen, whose new sandals seem to be leaking black dye everywhere. Shes seems to have had an OK day, the high point of which is that assembly is held with chairs for them to sit on and her bum does not go to sleep sitting on the floor. She's tagged along with a few kids she vaguely knows from primary and all seems to be well. I ban her from walking in the house, since the first steps barefoot on the tiles leave black ink like marks behind. I am forced to sling her over my shoulder and deposit her in the bath where she cleans her feet up. Freya and Phoebe seem to have adapted well - no complaints from Freya, and Phoebe seems happy enough, although complains that the work is too hard but has cunningly got someone else in class to do it for her.
Rhiannon however is in floods of tears. She has not it seems been placed in the G&T class, unlike her other 5 mates. She claims she's in a class of "thickies" and is wailing incessantly. Di contacts the school and speaks to the year 9 principal. He claims she is in this class because of her academic ability. I smell a rat here, as she was coping just fine at intermediate and was either top of her year or near it back in the UK. It's unclear at this point why they have assessed her at this level, but the missing exam repeated at the end of the summer holiday (hardly the best time) and the rushed telephone interview that she had during the holidays may be a factor. All her friends had face to face interviews with parents in attendance. The class is apparently one below the G&T class. To add insult to injury, she's not doing art or Japanese, the two subjects she most wanted. The year principal is apparently available on Friday (next two days are training days) so an appointment will be made. I will have an explanation.
A bit later in the evening, I needed to nip over to Papamoa, but alas the Mirth Mobile wouldn't start. I conned Craig into driving me over in his 'onda. Surprisingly he agreed and actually drove quite sensibly, if not quite at the speed limit. I couldn't figure out why the battery had gone flat, usually it's a light left on or a door open that does is but the thing was locked. As I am about to start fiddling about, I spot that the gearshift is in D4, rather than P. D'oh! D'oh! D'oh! I am about to give Di some unjustified grief to cover up my plebbling inadequacy, when she reminds me that it was me that drove it last, picking up Rhiannon from the Mount yesterday. I take refuge in running hard into the Mount and back, working off some of the nagging anger about Rhiannon's problems.
No comments:
Post a Comment