Oh my baby, leading him to school this morning, his head hanging low, automatically putting one foot in front of the other, clinging on to my hand as if he might fall over if he didn't.
Same school thank goodness, but for how long? I so believed we'd be rehoused by now and we'd be walking in knowing the battle was over.
Imagine it was his first day at a new one? It was a relief to see the mentor in the playground. After the how are you and how was your holiday questions I said:
"My son had some kind of bug saturday night, out both ends, the last time he was sick was yesterday morning, so it's been 24 hours. Still I'm not so sure I should have bought him in. Will you tell his teacher?"
"Of course," she said. "I'm going up there now, I'll let her know."
There was no excitement from my son, seeing his friends again. Still so tired, despite sleeping all yesterday afternoon and going to be bed at 6pm.
Today as they play "it" in the playground, he's likely to take himself to a corner and not speak to anyone. This morning he was hoping it would rain so there'd be "wet play", where he could stay in his classroom and "lie on a cushion."
He's in a good, safe space. I hope his little friends are supportive but if they're not, they themselves happy to see one another, when my son is strong enough, he can rejoin his group not feeling cut off from them.
He's a sensitive soul my one, why I'm trying not to worry. His sense of humour will return, he'll be alright.
Don't go changing his school, my country. My son doesn't want it, and neither do I.
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