Oxford was very quick off the mark and the very next day we got a fat packet of paperwork that took us about 2.5 hours to fill out. DH and I are both a bit jealous reading about the many events planned during Freshers' week, and all the dinners and balls to come. We have to buy him a Black Tie (!) outfit to wear to those, plus visit Oxford and buy him the gown, tie and mortarboard outfit that they have to wear for formal events.
It's particularly special for me when I think that I grew up on the west coast of Canada, never dreaming that I would ever even live in another country, and now my son is going to attend one of the world's oldest and most prestigious universities. Judging by my brother's children, it is now much more usual for Canadian youth to travel abroad, but when I was growing up it was quite a big deal just to telephone long distance to the United States and I don't think I even knew anyone who had been to Europe - apart from my father who had been dragged there by his parents as a teenager and hated it.
This is going to sound like a pushy mother which I don't think I am, but I also feel a bit vindicated. I knew from before DS was five that he had the potential to go far. We championed the benefits of school choices we made, and subject choices that DS made, defending those against family criticism and scepticism for years, and daring to utter the word 'Oxbridge' from very early on. Many of DH's family never went to college at all, so it wasn't seen as normal behaviour for a nine year old to be studying Latin and preferring to read a book quietly in a corner rather than play football outside. But it's all paid off now and DS will have the best possible start to his adult life.