Rolling around in a bubble.

Reporting from the trenches today feeling a little better about most things. This new school palaver has been all consuming at the moment. I am ready to put it behind me, but unfortunately that is not my call to make.

Inch by inch. Two steps forward and one step back. Just a jump to the left and shake it all about.

His anxiety kicks in as dawn breaks and amplifies during the 45 minute drive to school. I am patient and answer many questions and try to calm the nerves. This morning at the lights I actually grabbed his hands and told him that I was pulling all the bad feelings out of his body.

I then wound down the window and threw them out of the car before driving off, telling him that we had left them all back there at that intersection.

Crazy? Maybe. 

I have been lucky enough to have my gorgeous friend Nikki staying with us for a few days.  She explained to him that she was placing him in a white bubble, which is supposed to protect your aura and keep you safe and resilient…. or something.

Heck, I am willing to try anything. 

BUBBLE COME GET ME!

We got to school and Jack went to show Nikki the chickens and I walked into the playground with 30 cupcakes and Harry. There were kids everywhere and I saw the look of terror come over his face.

“Well fuck this….” I thought, before I morphed into that parent.

I asked him who he wanted to play with. He pointed out a group of kids on a handball court. I walked over to them, and in the manner of a Town Crier, blurted out the modern day version of “Here Ye! Here Ye!”

Which was to say….

“Oi fellas! This is Harry and he is new. Can he please play with you guys?”

The boys (and one girl) looked at me, standing there with a box in one hand and a tennis ball in the other, and said….

“Sure!”

phew…..

“Great! It is his birthday today and we bought cup cakes.” I held up the box. Cred, right there. 

Buying friends? Sure, how much…

Harry gratefully looked at me as he joined the line, I blew him a little kiss and hastily retreated. Once around the corner, I snuck a look back.

He was smiling!

SMILING! I tried to make out the bubble. I couldn’t, but I was later assured it was there.

I walked over to his classroom and delivered the 30 cupcakes to the teachers desk. (….that I had bought, naturally. Am no baker)

It is true what they say, that parenting does not get any easier. It just gets really different and a whole lot more mind-fuckery.

Mr Woog attempts to bubble me 9 years ago to the day.