I don’t think there will ever be a time when I don’t advocate for people with protected characteristic, hidden disabilities or just those who are struggling – but especially for my children.

Our eldest was a parish and district councillor, but the environment was bad for his mental health. It is not an inclusive environment, and any one who thinks outside the box struggles – our son is not the only one who has had these problems. He tried, but ended up stepping down from both roles before the next elections.  We are now in the midst of campaigns for the May elections, and a comment has been made on a prospective councillor’s leaflet that is detrimental to my son, so we have complained to the local political party, and to the council itself.  As my husband eloquently put it, if our son had a physical disability that had prevented him from attending meetings, would the same comments been made? Probably not.

At the moment I am also in the middle of a conversation about equality in education for our youngest. I am not going to write much about that at the moment, but there has been a opportunity at school that has not been offered to our youngest, probably because of English grades, but he is dyslexic. If this is the case, it is against the Equality Act, and so I am finding out more.

Are either of these really worth my time when our eldest has no desire to be a local politician any more, and when our youngest only has a term left at school?

Yes, absolutely. I am not just advocating and battling for them, I am battling for all those who come after them.

We live in an unfair world. There are groups of people who do not get equal opportunities. There are groups of people in this country who face daily injustice because of the colour of their skin, where they live, their gender, their sexual orientation, their upbringing and so many other factors that I, as a middle class white woman, cannot even begin to imagine. There are also people with SENs, hidden disabilities and mental health issues and I can try very hard to make a difference to their lives, however small.

 A hundred years ago, women were fighting for the right to vote. 55 years ago, homosexuality was decriminalised (although there is still a huge amount of homophobia and discrimination). 40 years ago, women were fighting for equality in employment (and they still are).  In 2010 the Equality Act combined 116 different acts or pieces of legislation to “provide Britain with a discrimination law which protects individuals from unfair treatment and promotes a fair and more equal society.”  (Equality and Human Rights Commission).

Has there been much change over the last 13 years? To be honest, I don’t think so, not for square pegs at least. In some ways, in education, things have got worse. Alternative Provision numbers have increased, exclusions have increased, and the number of children with mental health needs has increased, although the pandemic had a huge impact on mental health.

So what can I do about it? I keep advocating, I keep fighting, I keep battling. I do this for my children, even though they are adults, and I do this for the children at school, for the adults struggling in the workplace or in society. I do this for the next generation in the hope that they won’t face as many battles, and I do this in memory of those who came before.

I keep doing everything I can to try and make this world a little fairer for those who still face inequality, discrimination and bigotry. I advocate because I can, and because I need to.

To parents of year 13s, we are half way through the Easter holidays, and in just over 11 weeks (or earlier), our babies will have finished formal education. We can see the finish line, but we must remember that this is their race, not ours.

Our teenagers are about to start the most stressful & final term of their school years. Ours were the ones who piloted the new SPaG SATS in 2016, the majority of their GCSE curriculum was taught online, and then the exams were on, then they were off, then they were going to be assessed by the exam boards & then they weren’t. They have had an absolute shitstorm of a time in education, and yet over the next 11 weeks they will take exams that are back to ‘normal’ – be that A-levels, AS levels, BTECs, T-quals or other.

Whatever August brings them when they open their envelope, check online, get an email from their uni of choice, they have done incredibly well just to still be in education. We need to keep our expectations in check.

If August doesn’t bring the results they want, the world will still turn, and it is our job to help them pause, breathe and decide what’s next. But we need to take that pressure off them right now.

As I said above, it is not our race. We are just the spectators, the supporters, the bringers of juice, chocolate and revision snacks. We need to be there for them, cheering them on, but we need to make sure we don’t add to the pressure. There is often a fine line between helping and pushing, between assisting and being overbearing. It is a fine line that’s easy to miss – and I have missed far too often – but we must stay the parent side, unless we are invited over.

We also nee to remember that our teenagers are absolute superstars. They have been through things our generation can’t begin to imagine. They have learnt resilience, determination, and how to cope with global disasters. When they were just 15, their world changed forever, and they spent over 2 years in and out of lockdowns and with restrictions on their lives. Some will have lost loved ones, some will have seen their parents and carers struggle mentally and financially. Some will have felt their lives change forever.

They are all amazing individuals, and we need to let them know that we have their backs, that they have our unconditional support & love. We need to bend and move heaven and earth to give them what they need over the next few weeks. We need to put down our phones and check in with them every day, and not expect much more than a grunt in return. We need to read body language, we need to pull them back from burn out or support them if they need our help. My deal is that there will always be ice cream in the freezer and easy peel oranges in the fruit bowl!

These 17 and 18 year olds really are the future. They are the ones who will shape the world that we will grow old in. It is up to us to help them with whatever they need between now and the end of June. We need to listen, not push and be there. For the next 11 weeks, our needs have to take a back seat, our egos have to take a back seat. The next 11 weeks is just about them.

Thank you for reading.

Today is International Women’s Day. I am old enough to remember a time when women were not allowed to join the Navy (I remember a school careers fair in the mid 1980s when we could have the Navy there as women were now allowed to join, but not go on ships). I remember when women’s sport was not televised, or indeed recognised as proper sport in the media. Unless you were a gymnast. Throughout my half century on this planet, I have seen changes in the way women are treated, and I have seen huge breakthroughs.

However, as much as things may change, too many have stayed the same. There is not equality (yet). Just last summer I went to a DIY chain to look at paint. I was told about the colours, my son was told about the durability and how to clean the brushes and more ‘technical’ aspects. He was 17. He only came along for the ride.

Our sons (now adults) stand up for women, they shout down misogyny and they fight for equality. I chose to work part time when our eldest was born, so they could have seen this as the norm, but they don’t. They see a women’s right to choose to be have a career, a family or both. Our youngest has come home this evening saying how a peer wrote a comment about how today was the only woman’s day. Even when things like this are said in jest, it’s a derogatory comment, and adds fuel to the fire.

As readers of the blog may know, I have started a part time doctorate. My elderly grandmother was very pleased when I told her that I had got onto the course, and she then told me that ‘I was so lucky to have a husband who would let me do it’. Thing is, she has a point! I didn’t need permission to do the course and my husband & children encouraged me to apply, but I know there are still some people my age who would not have the support of their partner to pick up the slack when they are studying. An older male relative asked if I would be calling ‘Doctor Salt’ when I graduate – I wonder if he would have asked the same thing to a man?

As I type, my grandmother, in her 90s, is in hospital very ill. Although she has lived a long life, it hasn’t always been happy, and I really wish I could have made it better for her. She wanted to stay on at school and study to work as a speech therapist, but she had to leave to go to secretarial college. She got married very young, and my grandfather was a banker before he became a vicar – and in the late 1940s and early 1950s, banker’s wives didn’t work, so she couldn’t have a career then either. I look at the opportunities I have had compared to hers, and I know how lucky I am. But I also know that there is still work to be done.

Look at clothes for boys and girls, for example, and you still see boys as superheroes and girls as princesses.  It is getting a little better, but it’s not good enough. Think, as well, about the comments that feed toxic masculinity: man up, big boys don’t cry, don’t be a girl etc. They feed the stereotype that men are strong and tough, and women are not as well as putting pressure on men to conform to the societal stereotype as well.

As I reflect on my 51^st International Women’s Day, I can see so many positive changes that have happened in my lifetime. However, I can also see how much still needs to be done, and with groups such as Incels on the rise and the likes of Andrew Tait, as well as what is happening in some states in the US, I can see how easy it would be to slip back.

Even with all the changes that have happened, it still feels like we live in a male dominated world, and so my wish on International Women’s Day, is that in my lifetime, women won’t feel like square pegs living in a round hole society any more.

I’ve been a bit (very!) quiet on here recently. This is for a variety of reasons that all come together and mean I’ve been very busy, and the blog has been a bit neglected.

The good news, is that one of the things I’ve been working on getting finished is the book, and that was self published on Amazon and went on sale yesterday (link here). It is very surreal to see an idea I had when I started this blog come to fruition. It has much, much more than the blog and has allowed me to develop ideas, add research and put all the information that we needed when our children were growing up into one place.

The other reasons are helping our youngest revise for his A-levels (by helping, I mean passing lots of cake, apples and chocolate and trying to persuade him to go through past papers with him), a fabulous new job, and, last but by no means least, completing and submitting my first doctorate assignment.

The assignment was a reflective piece about teaching, education and how/why I ended up doing an EdD. This was a really interesting assignment to write, and looking into my own square peg status was eye opening and cathartic. I read research about adult women with ADHD (either self diagnosed or medically diagnosed) and how we need to keep doing more and more until everything comes crashing down. I disagree with this, and I feel that I need to keep my plates spinning as a way of keeping myself balanced. If I have too many, then they may come crashing down, but having the right amount of plates to spin means that my brain is focused and I get more things done.

I feel a slight shift in the blog too – while I will keep blogging about children, education and stories about my life, I think it is a natural progression as my children become adults to look a the adult square peg too, and share some of the things I find while I study over the next couple of years.

Please comment/message/find me on social media if you have ideas or requests, and I will do my best to cover them. I have been quiet on here for a while, but this is one of my most important spinning plates, and although it has been a little slower recently, I’m back, and I’m spinning again!

I often write when things are going wrong because it helps me when I write, and also because I think it’s important to move away from toxic positivity and Instagram #SoBlessed vibes. Other times I write when we have overcome things and I feel the need to share the journey (X-factor style). Today is neither. Today is about everyone having a time to shine, and things falling into place.

Our eldest did not have it easy at all when he was at school. Diagnosed dyslexia, undiagnosed ADHD (and probably undiagnosed ASD) made formal education really tough. The first attempt at uni didn’t go well either – after his first year he had to leave on mental health grounds. However, his second attempt was successful, and he graduated this year with a 2:1. Because of the time he had at school, before he graduated he started working as a SEND Teaching assistant, and now he is a full time SEND tutor at an independent special school, and will continue with more training & a Masters degree. He loves his job, he loves the work, and he is making a difference. Because he has lived what many of the young people are going through, he has empathy and understanding, and he can also show what can happen because of where he is now.

Our youngest has also found his place. The UCAS application is complete, submitted and offers are already arriving – even though the deadline is not til mid January. He has struggled with formal education. English Language & writing for the sake of writing, and English Literature (reading and analysing books other people have chosen for you) were always very difficult, but now, in year 13, just 7 months away from A-level exams, his grades truly reflect his ability and potential. He still finds school hard, and I think he will really fly when he gets to university, but his grades means that he has been able to choose any university to apply for.

Our eldest is 26 and our youngest is 18. They have found their niche at different times in their lives – and they may change their minds and adjust their sales and end up going in a different direction, but we can look at them both and know that right now, it has come together for both of them. They are exactly where they should be, doing exactly what they should be doing.

However, looking back, they have always been exactly where they needed to be. Even in the darkest of times (which were very, very dark at times), they were learning things about the world or about themselves that has led to where they are now. Life isn’t all pretty and nice and smooth. It is a rollercoaster of highs and lows. It is good times, bad times and ‘I can’t see how we can get out of this’ times. Sometimes the good times last months, sometimes just minutes – and the same for the other times too.

Some of you who are reading this will be in a dark place. Some of you may be looking at your skware pegs and won’t know what to do next. We have been there. We may be there again. But today, maybe just for today, it feels like it has all come together.

I can’t quite believe that it’s time to write this post, but our last ever first day back is just 3 days away. For the last 23 years, the end of August has been full of back to school shopping but now this is it. The last one. Our baby is going into year 13 on Tuesday, his last school year. This is the beginning of our year of lasts, and I don’t quite know how I’m going to cope with it all.

At some point in August 1999, I went to the school uniform shop at Barlborough Hall School and bought a teeny tiny blazer, track suit, book bag, rucksack and swimming bag for our then almost 3 year old. I was a full time student, my husband was an accountant, and for the next 2 years, my student loan alongside nursery vouchers were going to pay school fees at Barlborough. The choice to go there was partly because our local state nursery couldn’t give us flexi-hours, and we had to choose mornings, afternoons or full time, it was partly because the day nursery I was using while I was at university charged for holidays, and I worked nights so didn’t need childcare in the holidays. It was also because Barlborough is just the most beautiful school, housed in an Elizabethan mansion with huge emphasis on pastoral care, and once we looked round, we couldn’t say no.

The first day at Barlborough Hall was Tuesday 14^th September 1999, 5 days after our eldest’s 3^rd birthday. Our youngest’s last day will probably be on the 30^th June 2023 (the prep school is part of the Mount Trust, alongside Mount St Mary’s College, so it doesn’t feel like two separate schools just one educational path from 3 through to 18), and I remember joking years ago about when the time came for him to finish, we would have spend almost 24 years – almost half my life – with the school family, and here we are, with just under 10 months more to go.

Our youngest passed his driving test over the summer holidays, so we have asked him if we can do one more school run each on Tuesday before he drives himself to school – and I’m sure that’s going to feel so emotional.

Over the next few months, there will be ‘one last’ bonfire night, Christmas carol concert, parents’ evening, panic over revision, exam series, and then speech day and the leavers’ ball. It was hard with our eldest, and I know that this year will be harder.

We have made fabulous friends on this journey, and we have met some fantastic teachers. This year, however, doesn’t just mean the end of education, it means the end of an era, the end of a huge, important part of our lives. Additional needs and health problems for both of them has meant that we have had to be more hands on and involved in their lives than some other parents may have been. They will always be our boys, they will always need us, but at the end of this year everything changes, and we have to let go.

It’s going to be an amazing year. I am going to make sure that I take the time to take in every moment, take endless pictures in my mind and let myself bask in every emotion and feeling.

Here we go, for one last time.

It’s that time of year again. We are just about to start the third week of August, which means that Scottish Highers were out last week, A-level results are out on Thursday, so GCSEs will be out next week. All around the country, teens will be opening an envelope or email that, right now, feels like it contains their future. Everything depends on those letters and numbers. The future depends on those marks on a page.

Except, actually, it doesn’t. They mean everything right now, but in a month, a year or a decade, they will mean very little. As seems to be in keeping with my August blogs, let me tell you a story….

One August, not that long ago, a severely dyslexic teen went to get his GCSE results after a particular turbulent summer. The results weren’t very good. Two were above C (because it was pre 1-9 days), and the rest below. The college of choice now looked unlikely, but sports skills and a charismatic personality meant that he could go, but not on the first choice of course. Fast forward to a year later, and the resits were no better. After getting Functional Skills level 2 in maths and English he tried AS levels, but the following August brought more disappointment.

A year of voluntary work, and then a year of sports coaching meant that he enrolled into uni, but the course was wrong, the support wasn’t there, and after a year of struggling depression hit, and he had to leave. More work, an apprenticeship, more work and things were ok, but not fantastic. His mental health was still fragile, and OCD was the next hurdle to manage.

OCD was under control, and things were going reasonably well, and, er, COVID! Covid meant that work dried up, and a combination of furlough and forced isolation allowed time for reflection and refocusing, and time to really go for what he wanted.

He enrolled on a degree course during Covid. He worked hard, but with a combination of Covid restrictions and lots of online lessons, it was sometimes hard to work hard, but he did, and he persevered.

Fast forward to August 2022.

Another August, another results day.

August 2022 has broken the mould. August 2022 has brought a 2:1, job interviews and all sorts of opportunities. To quote his FB post:

“If you’d have said to me 10 years ago I would have a degree at this point I would have 100% laughed at you & thought you were joking but here I am with a FdA & a 2:1“

I didn’t do particularly well in my A-levels, and in 2 months I start a doctorate, and no one in the interview asked me why I only got Ds and Es, instead they were interested in my life experience and what I’ve done since then.

That’s not to say we need to underestimate how important this month is. When our teens get their results this month, they mean everything, they will change trajectories, and we need to be there to support them. But in the long term, in 5 or 10 years, this will just be a distant memory and a story to tell.

We had our first family fortnight since 2019 booked in Cornwall for the beginning of July. We were all going, us, the boys and our eldest’s fabulous girlfriend. We splashed out and booked 2 weeks in a luxury lodge in a small hamlet with a rather nice village store, and we had 2 weeks of sun, beach, books and food all planned.

We arrived on Friday evening after a detour through Plymouth, and our eldest and his GF arrived a bit later. Our eldest was tired, but he had been working all week, had had a strong man competition the week before, so we put it down to that. On the Saturday he was still exhausted – more than I would have expected, but we still put it down to fatigue. Then he coughed. For some unknown reason I had packed LTFs, so I got him to take a test. It was positive. We had avoided Covid for almost 30 months despite working in schools, being in school full time and going into offices, and yet on the first full day of our dream holiday, we had a positive test. Luckily the rest of us were negative, and our eldest didn’t feel too bad.

We looked up what we were expected to do, and basically we could carry on as normal! We didn’t though, he stayed in the house or went to empty beaches, and we went and bought packs of disposable masks so that if we did have to go out (to buy food!) we could mask up and throw away the masks when we got back.

On the Tuesday night our youngest felt rubbish so we did a LFT at midnight and it was negative. The following afternoon he was exhausted so we did another test – positive. Two down, three to go……maybe.

We changed our plans again, doing late evening walks along the beach, avoiding anywhere with people but still trying to enjoy the holiday. We were swapping lodges on the Friday so we had to be out for the day, so we were all out that day, but tried our best to avoid people, and our youngest masked up all the time, even in the heat and humidity.

On the Saturday it was my turn. I felt a strange fatigue, I was too tired to read, even, so I did a LFT and I was positive. By this time the boys were feeling better, and were venturing a little further, but still masked and avoiding crowds – although listening to beach conversations before I tested positive, I think there were lots of people down there who were positive but weren’t doing anything to stop the spread. On the Wednesday my husband tested positive, and on the Thursday we came home.

Although I am grateful that we all had it very mildly (thank you NHS and vaccines), I was an absolute sh*tter to have it on holiday, and to have our plans change again and again. Our youngest found it difficult – and he has been low since we got back, and I’ve struggled to accept that our dream holiday was staggered isolating in a lovely lodge rather than visiting different places and doing different things. It was enforced change that none of us could do anything about. It was tough, and frustrating and, well, sad. I know that Covid has been far, far worse for so many people, and I am so grateful and relieved that we all had it mildly, and to be sad about something that could have been much worse makes me cross with myself – but it happened, we’re all ok, and we still have the rest of the summer to do things.