Then I sent off the cheque

Realising that Shark, Squirrel and Tiger are now aged 13, I am experiencing one of those moments, familiar to all home ed mamas and papas, that is the pendulum swing betwixt educational resignation and blind panic.

But I need to think about this next stage of our adventure in calm, clear, pragmatic terms. Because we all have options, right?

1. Go primitive and dangerous. Do no GCSE exams. Not one. See if the kids can wing it into college relying on their passion and enthusiasm.

Let's do it: Has great appeal. No exams is the entrance ticket for the weird and dangerous crowd, the ones who best challenge social norms, cut across your group-think, and who express their individuality in true, genuine style. Also appeals to my deep idle streak which I will claim is my educational philosophy.

Let's not risk it: Tiger, Squirrel and Shark utterly fail to get into college thanks to an interview technique based on slumping in a chair and saying Leave me alone! Why are you asking such difficult questions? Consequently, have to spend a year and two thousand pounds on intensive coaching in English, Maths, and anything else demanded by Mrs Stern Lips at the college interview.

2. Go autonomous. Follow a couple of IGCSE curriculums at home in indifferent, haphazard manner, basically finding an excuse to turn geography into cake, then stride cheerfully into an exam room as an external candidate and see what answers come to mind.

Let's do it: Suits our style. Would fit naturally into everyday life chez Grit. We could become freedom fighters for how exams ought to be. A snapshot of your natural wits, wisdoms and abilities, rather than the possessor of a very large memory copied from the bullet points.

Let's not risk it: Shark, Squirrel and Tiger fail to be tested by the miserly, constricted standards of the day and come out with a scattering of grades from U to E, then have to spend a year and two thousand pounds on intensive coaching in English, Maths etc.

3. Play a little bit normal. Hire IGCSE tutors online, take distant courses which give the appearance of accreditation, hope to build up a CV for each child that has a variety of recognisable and interesting stuff which helps them blag a way into college.

Let's do it: Sounds like an interesting way to spend a couple of years, and would involve both cake and an essay that someone else has set.

Let's not risk it: Sounds like hard work requiring an administrative role from me, which is a bad idea considering I haven't a clue what day it is. Shark, Squirrel and Tiger fail to have the staying power to manage more than a couple of half-finished courses and we all revert to cake and making unicorn money. I kiss goodbye to three thousand quid for the privilege. Spend a year and two thousand pounds on intensive coaching in English, Maths etc.

4. Play a lot normal. Insist on eight ICGSEs taken from home. Set up a timetable. Enforce it. Be rigorous and stern about deadlines, correct answers, marks, scores, feedback, etc.

Let's do it: No, I can't think of any reason why we would do this, unless I had a character-transforming brain injury, or I died and Shark, Squirrel and Tiger were gifted with a step mother who did it for me.

Let's not risk it: I would have to become a person I am not. The children would hate me, then rebel, steal cider, sleep on park benches, take drugs and become prostitutes.

5. Make it someone else's job. Send Shark, Squirrel and Tiger to school. I don't have to bother thinking about it, booking exam rooms, paying as external candidates, fretting about the right paper on the right day, reading mark schemes, or printing out sample exam papers. It's all someone else's job and I can blame the teachers if anyone comes out with a grade D.

Let's do it: I could spend all day conjuring my leather-bound works of poetic brilliance until I am taken up by Vivienne Westwood accessories and my business empire is assured.

Let's not risk it: Shark, Squirrel and Tiger won't get up in the morning. Vivienne Westwood drops dead without ever clapping eyes on my notebooks.


Verdict: Looking at Shark, Squirrel and Tiger in detail, assessing their character types and the triplet dimension which is, frankly, getting in the way here, I'm choosing Route 3. At least until next month, when I have another crisis.