133 days…

I was back at work today … and the good news is that I have work until the end of term.  Doing literacy again. Huzzah!

The other brilliant news is that the guidance officer caught up with me today.  She reported back to me on the WPPSI-R assessment she did on H.  As it turns out,  he ranks as a high average to superior on every testing area and is a “bright little boy” (her words).  Her only warning to me was that he could become bored easily if not continually challenged. She also did an ASD checklist with him – the upshot is that he doesn’t have the markers.  We knew that already.  I asked her to tell idiot teacher about her results.  Hopefully that will stop all her mumblings about ASD / OCD / ADHD / whatever label she wants to slap on him this week.  So good news all around!

But I still had a cry on the way home.  I just so badly want to share the good news with you. My brain knows you aren’t coming back and yet my heart just doesn’t understand.  I don’t think it ever will.

I’m definitely better at school.  But I note that some teachers are still idiots who can’t cope when somebody actually knows SOMETHING about something.  I’m in the poo with a few young teachers as the head of curriculum has asked me to help put the school’s science planning together.  Meh.  There are teachers and there are teachers.  Some are always learning and some feel obliged to ALWAYS teach and can’t learn.

Anyway, the good thing about being on the same timetable is that I still get Fridays off so I have time to continue to sort through the mire of the paperwork shite.  Seriously, I hate the paperwork.  I hate it.  I hate it because I shouldn’t have to do it because you should be here.


Council Cleanup is coming again.  For the first time ever WE are going to have a rubbish pile because I am going to throw out some of your hoarded crap.  Like the 8 doors under the house.  Don’t worry, I’ll keep the *one* door that actually comes from this house.

I remember one year I managed to put out a couple of old cardboard boxes that were mouldering under the house.  You brought them in again.  When the hot water system died and I had to organise a new one to be installed, the guys had the old hot water system ON the truck when you pulled up in the driveway having just come home from work.  You got it back off the truck and it sat in our back yard for 2 years.  (GC now has taken it up to the farm).

Your daughter, your glorious *gifted* daughter (according to Yr 2 data) has inherited your hoarding trait.  It’s definitely genetic.  As is her academic brilliance (that bit comes from me;)  Luckily, she has your slim figure, long legs and wonderfully thick, long hair.  She is going to be one beautiful, smart woman when she is grown (she’s just a gorgeous kiddo right now).

So that’s two remarkable children we have.  Sometimes when I get so angry about all the things you didn’t get to do, I need to remember the fantastic things you did get to do.  Fathering these two beautiful human beings is definitely a fantastic thing you did do.

I love you.