The first few minutes after being told that The Kid won't get special education funding for when he goes to school are the hardest, because for all the effort that went into methodically listing every f*ckin' problem that we could think of when it comes to his development (a very demeaning experience in itself, and one I hoped I would never have to do again), I very much hoped that there would be at least funding granted, as a kind of a sunshine in the end of the road - or, to be exact, at the start of the road as he will be starting school next year and the funding would've covered the speech and the physiotherapy all through his schooling years - but instead I am sitting here, reading this e-mail and my eyes are welling up with tears.
Oh well, I guess I am going to go down the same road I have already seen several of my friends go. I am going to find the money to fund the therapy privately, and I am simply going to find ways in which to support my kid who I see has a lot of potential to go places, and do things, even if Ministry of Education doesn't see it that way.
As I'm typing this, The Kid looks up at me and asks, "Why you cryin?"
"I'm sad. I'm crying because I'm sad..." I answer him.
"Need cuddle?" he asks.
"Yes, I would love a cuddle, thank you," I tell him.
He comes up to me and gives me the cuddle. I cry into his shoulder and then he goes and continues playing with Lego - he's trying to figure out ways in which to change out the figurines' arms and heads.
He checks up on me after about a minute. "Mommy sad?" he asks, "Need cuddle?"
I smile at him. "That was a lovely cuddle, thank you, I feel much better for it. Thank you," I say.
And then I finish writing this post here, and I set the computer away, and we're going to play with Lego together.
I love my kids. I love them a lot.