116 days…

Today started out OK.
I had the boys again today. All beautiful except for one little football hooligan in training that makes me worry for the future of society.  He was a rude little turd for me, even when given strategies  and opportunities  to make  good behaviour choices.  The clincher was when another teacher saw him push two younger girls down the stairs at lunchtime.  He laughed, the little turd.  He’s a little bully – makes me wonder what life is like for him at home….

Our kids are being feral tonight – they are fighting even from in bed.  I’m choosing to ignore them.

I’m so tired tonight as I think I have now got what the kids had – just in time for holidays.  Go me.


My brain keeps going back to the last night you came home – late from the farm.  I always listened for your car to know you were safely home before feigning sleep because I was so mad with you for going to the farm for yet another weekend away from us.
I’m still so angry at you for choosing to spend your last weekend on earth with your brother and his children and not with us.  It may be irrational but I don’t care.  Your family got so much more of you than they deserved.  They just EXPECTED that you would put the bloody farm ahead of your own family and that pissed me off no end.  Stupid bloody place was not profitable and prematurely killed your parents and yet you’d go back there and work all weekend.

I’d give anything to hear your car arrive home from the farm, late but home.

I love you.