So come on mums and dads, where do you stand on the great Birthday Disco vs School Sats Test debate?
This week, Tina Adams of Tiverton, received a shirty letter from her daughter's primary school. In it, the teachers begged her not to hold a children's party this coming Sunday evening. The reason? Well, next Monday sees Year 6 (the top form of primary school, in old money) sitting their end-of-school assessment tests.
Did you go for: "It's not their A levels, for heaven's sake. Will their Standard Assessment Test results make a smidge of difference to their future employability or happiness? They are only 11. Let them have some fun."
Yes, that was pretty much my first reaction, too. And one that is fairly pertinent to our family, given that our son Luke is sitting his SATs on Monday, too.
I must admit, all the way through primary school I've been a bit of a reluctant convert to the role of pushy mum. I don't know why, given that – of course – I want my kids to do well. But I've really struggled with all the extra-curricular stuff we parents are expected to do these days.
I've absolutely hated every minute of bashing through the reading schemes and can never remember (or care) if William is on Purple, Gold or White level books. All I know is they make for pretty dire listening as he drones through them. As for making the Egyptian Sphinx out of cardboard, sand and glue, or sending the kids to school dressed as their favourite literary character, well, it's been a struggle.
Indeed, for the most recent World Book Day I despairingly dressed the boys as cowboys in clothes they already owned – jeans, checked shirts, wellies. One wore my broad-brimmed leather farming hat while the other wore my husband's. They looked like something out of a junior version of The Village People. "Tell them you are the main characters from Annie Proulx's book Brokeback Mountain," I said wickedly. Then I lost my nerve and said they were Woody from Toy Story. "I know it was a film, but I'm sure there was a spin-off storybook. Don't argue, we're already running late – and anyway, you both look adorable," I said.
I digress, but back to Discogate. As I said, my initial thoughts were very much along libertarian lines. Let it all hang out! Bop till you drop! But after a little more thought, I've – to my surprise – found myself changing my mind. After all, Luke is super-excited about taking his SATs. He's been practising like mad and really has pushed himself. Far be it from me to belittle his efforts. In a few years, such tests really could make a difference to the rest of his life. If he's taking exams seriously now, it augurs well for the future.
And then, even if Year 6 SATs don't matter to us much as a family or to Luke in his future career, the results are important for the school itself. Parents pore over the results when they are published. Future intakes of pupils will be influenced by just how well the school does in the league tables.
So I need to show some respect (and gratitude) for all the many long hours Luke's wonderful teacher has put into educating him this year. She has gone above and beyond the call of duty to bring out the very best in him. And I ought to appreciate the equal dedication given to his progress over the years by the teachers lower down the school. It has all helped to turn him, by a slow but magical process, from that wide-eyed four-year-old who couldn't read or write to the intellectually curious young chap he is today. All this despite the chaotic and, at times, downright unsupportive stance of his hopeless mother.
So I'm afraid that if Luke were invited to a party on Sunday night, finishing at 9.30pm, he wouldn't be allowed to go. With the best will in the world, Tina's pre-teen guests will come home giddy on a heady mix of sugary food, Lynx deodorant and One Direction. By the time they have calmed down it will be 10.30pm at the earliest before they get to sleep. Which is much too late for a school night. Especially one before some tests which, on consideration, ought to be taken reasonably seriously.
So this Sunday, the plan is that Luke will be safely tucked up in bed by 7.30pm. Which, as luck would have it, will give me the chance to sit and watch Antiques Roadshow in peace, too. A win-win situation, I'd say.