196 days….

Back to school Monday.

I have my Yr 3 boys ALL DAY EVERY DAY for the week.

(Send wine)

They are being awesome for me.  They normally eat supply teachers for breakfast, but I know them too well (and they know me too well) for that.  I use the same behaviour management techniques as their regular teacher.  I wish I’d done this behaviour course earlier.  It’s gold.


I still have to send one to the deputy for repeated poor behavioural choices.  He has been suspended for a day.  Apparently the regular teacher had sent him up last week and this was one visit too many.

The rest of the day was beautiful though.  I love days like this.


But our school is hurting.

Hurting bad.

Life is tough when you have to schedule funerals so they don’t coincide.

When most of the staff want to attend each funeral and so a truckload of supply teachers are needed at the end of term when they are in very high demand.

When we contemplate getting a counselor in at the school to help the staff deal with all the deaths of late.

I guess it started exactly a year ago when the 14 yo daughter of one of the teachers died due to leukemia.

That was devastating.

Then there was you.

…and as you are aware, your death broke my heart beyond repair.

Then C.

Then Karen’s Dad P.

… and those last two were within 48 hours of each other.

…and B’s husband G won’t be too far off I fear.  His prognosis doesn’t sound promising.

I was going to pike out on going to the funerals:  I don’t know how they will affect me.  I may howl.  I may cry until liquid pours from every facial orifice.

But I think I need to be there to show K that her heart won’t actually shatter when C’s body is cremated.

It will just feel that way.

Life is so unfair.


I want to surround myself with your body.

I want to be cradled in your arms.

I want you to tell me that life will be OK.

Because I really don’t think it will be OK.

The fact that we won’t physically die from losing you does not make it OK.

I miss you,

I love you.

Don’ t go.