Personal Blogs

Ah, half term. That magical week when the coffee mug stops trembling, the alarm clock gets a brief sabbatical, and you briefly remember what daylight looks like. For us mature students working in further education, it’s less “wild week off” and more “necessary system reboot.” Think of it as switching yourself off and back on again—like an overworked printer that’s starting to smell faintly of desperation.

The Reset (or at least, the Attempt)

You begin the week with great intentions: yoga, reading, meal prep, perhaps finally tackling the “cupboard of doom.” But inevitably, it ends up as pyjamas, snacks, and the occasional “I’ll just check my emails” spiral. You tell yourself it’s restorative. You deserve this. You need this. You’ve earned the right to merge with the sofa like some academic burrito.

And yet, Monday looms.

The Return: Operation Motivation

The first day back greets you with the cheerful announcement that you’ll be spending it at Sandon Bowers for an “outdoor motivational challenge day” with supported students, because nothing says welcome back to reality like being cold, damp, and expected to look inspirational while wearing a harness.

The male staff, naturally, have developed a sudden and contagious fear of heights. Which leaves me—proudly sporting my “festively plump” post-half-term physique—to demonstrate “how easy it is” to scale the climbing wall.

You stand there, staring up at the wall. The wind whips your face. Somewhere in the distance, a seagull laughs. The students cheer you on, half out of encouragement, half out of morbid curiosity.

And as you begin your ascent (a generous term for whatever flailing occurs), you can’t help but think of Mary Wollstonecraft, your current literary companion. The champion of reason, women’s rights, and intellectual independence. Would she approve of this scenario?

Probably not. But she’d definitely appreciate the irony of a woman literally climbing her way through modern education—powered only by tea, stubbornness, and the lingering hope of a biscuit at the top.

The Aftermath

You survive. Barely. You are cold, muddy, and approximately one emotional breakdown away from Googling “jobs involving indoor heating.” But you’ve done it. You’ve inspired your students, terrified the men, and lived to tell the tale.

Now it’s early bed, fluffy socks, and a quiet mental countdown:
Just six weeks until the next half term.

And yes—the Christmas decorations are absolutely going up this weekend. Because if anything can motivate a weary educator to keep climbing (literally or figuratively), it’s the promise of twinkly lights, mince pies, and a socially acceptable excuse to drink Baileys before noon.

 Moral of the Story:
You don’t have to be Mary Wollstonecraft to inspire others. Sometimes, just showing up, strapping in, and hauling your post-holiday behind up a wall is enough.

Now… where’s that countdown app?

Welcome back to my little corner of chaos — where caffeine is a food group, glitter is a coping mechanism, and puppies are the emotional support squad. If you’ve ever tried to balance a full-time job, higher education, and a mildly delusional sense of optimism, then pull up a chair — you’re in good company.

You know that saying about making lemonade out of lemons? Well, I’ve become something of a professional citrus juicer at this point.

Between being a Learning Support Assistant extraordinaire and a mature student knee-deep in the world of Elizabeth I, I sometimes feel like I’m living two completely different lives — one in the classroom supporting others to reach their goals, and the other in the library, desperately trying to keep my own essays afloat.

At work, I go the extra mile (and then some). I stay late, I care deeply, I juggle deadlines, paperwork, and pastoral care like an Olympic event. I get the pats on the back, the “we couldn’t do it without you,” and the ever-so-familiar “you’d be perfect for the promotion!” But somehow… that promotion never quite lands. It’s the professional equivalent of dangling a carrot — or maybe a glittery pen — just out of reach.

Still, I keep at it. Because somewhere between the chaos and the caffeine, there’s the real reason I do it: the students. The ones who make me laugh on the worst days, who remind me that what I do matters, who make all the nonsense fade into the background. They’re the highlight, the sparkle, the reason I don’t just throw my planner out the window and move to a cottage by the sea (tempting though that may be).

And when it all gets a bit too much, there are study days. Blissful, quiet (well, quieter) moments where I can swap lesson plans for lecture notes and lose myself in the drama of Elizabethan England — where at least the backstabbing is historically documented.

So here I am: fed up, frazzled, but still fabulous. Surrounded by pups, glitter, and a never-ending to-do list, I'm making the best lemonade I can with the lemons life keeps tossing my way. It’s not glamorous, it’s not easy, but it’s mine — and somehow, it still sparkles.

Until next time — may your coffee be strong, your students be kind, and your glitter always find the light. ✨🐶📚🍋

Ah, a day off from work — or as I like to call it, my “study day.” I’m an FE LSA by trade, a mature student by madness, and a mother and wife in between. Today’s grand plan was to be productive.

Armed with a mountain of notes, a questionable amount of caffeine, and the determination of Cleopatra herself, I’ve spent the morning analysing how the Egyptian queen ended up flogging soap in a Palmolive poster. I mean, this woman bathed in milk — hardly the modern face of moisturising bubbles! Still, I managed to pull together some half-decent thoughts between trips to the loo. (Note to self: six cups of coffee may technically count as hydration, but your bladder disagrees.)

After my 87th walk to the bathroom — hello, 10,000 steps before noon — I switched modules to Mary, Mother of Jesus — quite a gear change. From seductress to saint, I’m not sure my caffeine-addled brain was ready for the contrast.

By mid-afternoon, I was feeling virtuous enough to consider a reward. I typed “book gym session” into my phone, but somehow ended up with “gin session” instead. Honestly, the phone knows me too well.

Still, despite the caffeine shakes and confusion, I’ve actually had a productive day. Cleopatra sold her soap, Mary kept her halo, and I kept my sense of humour — just about.

So yes — I may have spent half the day pacing, over-caffeinated and slightly delirious — but I learned a lot, got my steps in, and somehow managed to laugh my way through it. For a mature student on a study day, that’s what I call success.

Until next time — may your coffee be strong, your notes legible, and your autocorrect forever on your side.

Today, I learned that being highly qualified, wildly experienced, and possessing the patience of a caffeinated saint still doesn't count for much if you haven’t ticked the magic box that reads:
“Been here long enough to be considered serious.”

Apparently, time served in your current role trumps actual ability to do the job, which is a relief, really, because now I know what to do with all my qualifications: use them to build a small fort and hide in it until the required probationary moon cycle has passed.

Don’t get me wrong — I get it. Rules are rules. But when you're a mature student (translation: running on caffeine, ambition, and the tired you can’t nap your way out of), being told “No, not yet, you haven't been here long enough” feels a little like being grounded… for being too competent.

It’s like turning up to a bake-off with a three-tier Victoria sponge, only to be told,
“Lovely cake, but we only judge fairy cakes made on the premises.”

Oh, okay then. I’ll just eat my own cake and stare longingly at the job board.

But here’s the twist (because there’s always a twist, otherwise we’d spiral):
Maybe… just maybe… this is a blessing in disguise.

Yes, I said it. Maybe this little career hiccup — this beautifully wrapped parcel of professional rejection — is the universe’s way of whispering,
“Oi, focus on your degree, will you? You’ve got dreams to chase, papers to write, and a whole generation of neurodivergent Picassos waiting for you.”

Because that’s the actual goal, right?
To become a Special Needs Art Teacher Extraordinaire in FE — helping learners express themselves with glitter, glue, and unapologetic creativity, all while navigating the occasional flying paintbrush and existential crisis.

So while I lick my mildly bruised ego and remind myself not to storm HR with a scroll of my qualifications like Gandalf at a staff meeting, I’m going to breathe, refocus, and trust that my time is coming. Probably just not this Tuesday.

To anyone else out there being told they’re not “long enough in the building” to dream big — hang in there. We may be stuck at the bottom of the ladder, but we’re wearing better shoes and carrying the kind of experience you can’t fake.

Besides, we’re mature students. We’ve done harder things — like figuring out Microsoft Teams without swearing. Mostly.

Until next time, stay caffeinated, stay hopeful, and never let them dull your sparkle (or your CV).

Yours in eternal probation,
A Frustrated Future FE Art Queen

Today is the definition of a slow and steady study day – and honestly?... I’m not mad about it.

With Storm Amy howling outside like she’s got a personal grudge against roof tiles, I made the executive decision to stay tucked up indoors, firmly planted under a blanket, flanked by two snoozing dogs, and glued to the spot in front of the fire. At 5 ft 2, there is no way I am risking getting swept off into the sky like some academic Dorothy.

Instead, I have decided the blustery weather is the perfect excuse to dive into something a little less chaotic: my university welcome pack.

Welcome Pack Wonders

I finally had the time (and brain space) to properly flick through the orientation materials – and I have to say, it all started feeling real in the best way. Reading about what’s to come, module breakdowns, support services, and study tips made me feel more excited than nervous. Okay, slightly more excited than nervous.

Material Girl in a Study World

After taking some notes (colour coded, of course – we’re keeping the vibe organised), I made a checklist of everything I’ll need:

• Core textbooks (one already ordered, the rest sitting patiently in my cart)

• A few academic journal links I’ve bookmarked for later

• My trusty day-to-a-page diary, now with post-it flags marking key dates

• An unhealthy but necessary amount of highlighters including glitter ones, because let's face it every girls needs some sparkle.

There’s something so satisfying about preparing without the pressure to perform. Just a warm fire, a hot cuppa, and the occasional tail wag thumping against my legs.

Little Wins & Big Feels

Even though I wasn’t knee deep in assignments or lectures today, I still feel accomplished. Sometimes the quiet, slow-paced days are the ones that actually build the strongest foundation. A little reading here, a little planning there ... and suddenly, it all feels less overwhelming.

And hey, if I managed to resist the pull of an afternoon nap with two dogs curled around me like living hot water bottles, I can do anything, right?

Here’s to the calm before the academic storm. And if Amy could chill out too, that’d be great.

Until next time – stay warm, stay dry, and remember: progress doesn’t always have to be fast-paced to be meaningful.

So here we are. Week one back at university. As a mature student, I’d like to say it was a breeze – but let’s not lie to ourselves. Between full-time work, running a household, and wrangling with academic referencing (again), it’s been more of a juggling act than a smooth academic re-entry.

Prepping for Success (or at least, survival)

The stationery haul alone was enough to make me feel 10% more ready for this journey. I treated myself to:

• A hardback day-per-page diary (absolute game-changer) – one page dedicated to each chapter or lecture. I jot down thoughts, breakdowns (mental and academic), key points, and deadlines. Feels good to physically cross things off.

• Highlighters in every shade of pastel – I now have a colour code for everything from citations to “read again with coffee”.

• Post-it notes – bright reminders stuck on textbooks, laptops, fridge doors… even the kettle. Wherever I’ll definitely see them.

I even created a folder just for academic journal downloads. Who knew I’d get excited about PDFs titled “A Theoretical Framework for Critical Thinking in Adult Education”?

The Balancing Act

Balancing uni with a full-time job is a bit like trying to eat soup with a fork. Possible… if you have patience, a strategy, and accept that some of it will spill.

I’ve learned to:

• Time-block like a boss – Evenings are now divided into dinner, study, and “don’t disturb me unless the house is on fire” hours.

• Meal prep on Sundays – because one less decision during the week saves me precious brainpower.

• Communicate boundaries – to housemates, partners, pets… everyone needs to know that library-mode is serious business.

The Emotional Rollercoaster

Let’s be real. There were moments this week when I asked myself: “What was I thinking?” Especially while deciphering academic journal jargon after a long workday.

But there were also moments  when I finally cracked a reading that made zero sense at first, where I felt genuinely proud. Not just of being back, but of still wanting to learn. That’s something.

Final Thoughts from a Full Plate

So, yes – I’m tired. The house is messier than usual, and the to do list is longer than a referencing guide. But I’m doing it. We’re doing it. And there's something deeply satisfying in chasing a goal with both hands full.

To all my fellow mature students: keep your highlighters close, your coffee strong, and remember – you’ve already done the hard bit by showing up. The rest? One page, one post-it, one chapter at a time.

Bring on week two.