The feeding zone has been active today with the usual characters. Yes the characters are making a mess of the lawn but it’s always so good to see them. We don’t get too many human visitors these days so who is going to notice the rugby pitch of a lawn and I don’t think non-human visitors are that fussed.
Another largely sleepless night. One short dream, a viewing of the stunning yet grim Everest movie and a bout of late night blog catchup. While reading a friends post a thought entered my zonked out brain. How many other souls are struggling with sleep currently. We really deserve our own secret club. Maybe the name should be The Dead Tired Poets Society. Dead Poets Society is a truly stunning movie. If we want to be selective we could be the Dead Tired Parents Society.
But why stop there. We could have so many subgroups.
For the financially challenged – The Dead Broke Poets Society,
For the puzzled amongst us – The Dead Confused Poets Society,
For the bad cooks – The Dead if you eat this cake Poets Society,
For those feeling happy – The Dead Chuffed Poets Society,
For those who can regenerate – The Deadpool Poets Society,
For the rubbish Fortnite players – The Dead in five seconds Poets Society,
For the rubbish negotiators – The Deadlock Poets Society,
For the strong amongst us – The Deadlift Poets Society,
For the gardeners amongst us – The Deadheading Poets Society,
For the Monty Python lovers – The Dead Parrot Poets Society,
And for the impassive people – The Deadpan Poets Society.
Today was another fun day. Fun but with son’s anxieties bubbling just beneath the surface. I have emailed school to tip them off but deep down I know they won’t do anything. The teachers won’t be informed and if they were – what would actually happen. Not much. I’m not sure how much training this group of teachers have had in dealing with anxiety. They certainly have had little specialised training in areas like dyslexia and autism. Maybe that’s why my first questions to the teachers tends to be
You do know he has Aspergers and you do know he has Dyslexia and you do know he has Dyspraxia.
The look I get back with the generally vague replies suggests either they don’t or they do but given the 1000 things they are dealing with this is never going to be a priority. So my parenting anxieties are mounting again. That’s why having fun is so important. It’s great for my son and it’s such a release for me. A release which is even more important when sleep fails you. Can you guess what tonight’s insomniac movie is. I’ve dropped enough clues.
Dead Poets Society.