The Ineluctable Weight of Living

It is the final day of the 2016 academic year today. This marks the conclusion of my son’s transition year back into mainstream schooling (and also his first year at high school).

It’s been a hell bumpy ride before I add into the equation a less than smooth year for us all as a family. But you know what, we made it through. We didn’t just survive, at times we have thrived and going into the 2017 academic year we are poised for less survive and more thrive. 

This morning it was the hurried creation of thank you cards for those members of staff who have helped make this year a little easier for us. 

The above is the front of the card which I made for the acting Guidance Counsellor, who will have a few more days next year as the GC for the junior school. I am so grateful for her support and acknowledgement. The first person who said to us: you are doing a great job. The first to say: you have to be congratulated for how far you’ve come this year. 

It is impossible to articulate what this means after years of having blame and shame shunted onto us by successive educational professionals who didn’t want to engage, meet us where we were at, much less offer practical support and understanding. 

We have been so blessed this year. There has not been a single teacher, deputy, or any other member of staff that has not done their upmost to assist us. Right down to the fabulous ladies in the office.

I’m glad that I was able to hand make a few cards to accompany the obligatory chocolate and bubbly, as my act of appreciation and gratitude. 

Day Twelve #postitnotepostry

inopsNot the best of days today. I’m a bit fed up with being dragged through the gravel of life, with tiny pauses to lick the wounds and move on, waiting for the next square inches of skin to be torn off.

At least we’re learning as we go and that is something: Mr D to articulate how he feels, me to know there is no logical persuading him out of his anxiety. There is no point in fighting it or punishing him for the way he feels.

I’m learning to be able to sit and hold the space for the two of us… but it’s not easy.

The frustration erodes the best intentions of maintaining a safe and supportive environment. But I keep hanging in there.

This morning was hard. I just wanted some help but the school world was too busy to stop. So I sat and cried quietly, sitting on a green chair in the office and looking at the world beyond through the half drawn vertical blinds.