So didn’t sleep much.
Cried a lot.
Hugged my child a lot.
Who almost cried a lot because he knows something bad was done to him and his mummy is all upset and hugging him so much he might have put his neck out.*
Funny isn’t it, how when you’re making decisions for your children you weigh the good with the bad and then just fly blind into the future.
Pretty much the only thing on our ‘bad’ list in mainstreaming Oscar was that he could get bullied in the playground.
But you know, in saying that, I never played that scenario any further than that.
In fact, when his teacher in his little ‘Start Right’ class cautioned against mainstreaming, the bullying was top of her list.
I replied that we could not be expected to wrap Oscar in cotton wool and shield him from the world simply because he might get bullied.
I said that if I followed that logic then I’d end up homeschooling my kids and that as an option was worse than any bullying they might endure.
Well I didn’t actually say that bit but work with me, I’m trying to lighten the mood just a little.
So where was I?
Oh yes, the bullying.
I don’t know about you, but I kinda got to that blanket term, lumped it in the negative box and moved on.
Now I’m like – well no one told me it could be a sexual assualt.
After more crying, meeting my Dad and S for breakfast at Chef’s restaurant (where I had an almost restorative breakfast trifle of granola, berry coulis and yoghurt) and telling them and crying some more – as did they, as did Mum when I told her – I had a long chat to my friend J which involved me having to pull over because.of.the.crying.
That and the not having a hands free kit that works.
And she told me to ring the school’s special needs coordinator today.
So I did.
And look, what followed was a very cathartic and beneficial conversation for almost an hour.
I could go into detail but much of what was discussed was done so in confidence.
Let’s just say the school is taking the incident very very seriously and while she could not offer a definitive reason as to why I was not told on the day what she did offer has been of some comfort.
Still, I’m walking around in some weird sort of teary bleary haze of melancholy and spontaneous outbursts of tears.
And I’ve just served the children fish fingers and chips for dinner.
Even Felix said, ‘gee, I kinda thought you’d make us eat at least some vegetables with it.’
Thank you everyone for your words of support – if I don’t email you each individually please know I have read all your comments and they have done much to make me feel a little less awful.
* he did put his neck out – a visit to the chiro this morning said it was the worst it had ever been.