Doing what must be done

Two things I didn't want to do this morning:
Go to Bazza's Boot Camp
Meet the Foca

I woke up with a familiar pukey pukey feeling you see. I had this Tuesday morning when I was due to meet the social worker, but I kept telling myself then, that she was affiliated to the school and the school is on my son's side.

I could just stay home, perhaps plunder the dating site (yes! I subscribed! For a month! Not best climate must be said to go lookin' for lurve but I'll post about that later)

I went to Boot Camp. It was fairly punishing (fairly!), it was a good laugh. There were plenty of mental strengthening exercises. Be it holding the pads up for an age while your partner punched them for three minutes (I visualised a jungle when I was punching but could think of nothing when holding up the pads for my partner, aaargh my arms ached), be it focussing so as not to get punched in the 'punch punch duck punch duck stand back punch' sequences (I am so unutterably crap at that)

I'm glad I went.

Now I must face the Foca. I do not want to do this, that is why I have dragged in the school. In a cafe, just the two of us, it would be a metaphorical boxing match. The horror, particularly for a pacifist like me. Because the fight is about my son, I have asked the school to act as umpire.

I'm not glad I'm going, but I am glad I set it up for my son. The sooner we clear up term time access without my having to resort to nasty things like denying access or accessing lawyers, the better.

Fuck I hate battles. I HATE them, I HATE them, I HAAAATE them.

Best breathe. Breathe Breathe Breathe....