Four teens, Four candles...Fork handles

There has been no earthquake, no tidal wave of woe; we have passed under the barrier long since dreaded and, with the latest birthday, become the parents of four teens. Instead, for the first time since the youngest's birth, it rained on the appointed day and, two days later is set to bring a deluge accompanied by winds and a drop in temperature: does this herald the slow start to years of increased stomping arguments (there is such a thing, believe me), slammed doors - already replaced the back door once - assumptions that the car is their preserve and theirs only; that food will disappear at an even more alarming rate and that, naturally, the centre of the entire universe revolves around them. Them x four. 

Undoubtedly, yes!

For as we lit various cakes-worth of birthday candles, (somehow we fell into the trap of one party for friends, another for family - the rot set in some time ago!), to celebrate the ascent to teenagedom; our eldest contemplates end of school exams and the final ten days of school itself. At the other end of the teenage spectrum, the self and media-exposed stress of exam grade expectations, coupled with the realisation that the comforting walls of fourteen years of school are about to come to a close brings its own set of OMG moments. Close knit friendships look set to continue, but the proximity of these friends on a daily basis won't; decisions have to be made by the eldest alone, guided less by the olds: how to manage student loans, striking out on their own to make new friendships; this course or that one; can they afford a holiday, or should they save for further education?

I don't envy the teens.

Bomb-proof #2 takes exams over these three weeks or so, knowing that grades count for universities he might like to look at. Offspring three tries not to think of next year's hideous count of GCSEs, twelve of them chosen before Mr Gove, in his wisdom, changed the timing of exams - approximately 27 papers to take in a couple of weeks in the summer of '14. And the newly turned teen? Not sure whether there will be any jobs left; 12 subjects or five, will it make any difference?

So, yes they'll throw strops, give curt replies, grunt in preference to speaking at all, expect food to be ready at all times, and their mother to drop everything to transport from A to B; but sometimes I don't blame them.

We parents - take to the fork handles. Digging to de-stress. The veggie garden looks pretty good in spite of the inclement weather and the onset of the cricket season and, for once, the token couple of flower beds have been weeded. In order to defuse, it's sometimes easier to get out of the house!