An open letter to my children’s teachers.

I would like to start with a statement of fact. You are amazing. No, really. You absolutely, one hundred percent, are. You spend the majority of your term time waking hours with my children. Plus 29 others. Not only that, you do so in a calm and sanguine manner. I lose my shit when I get a bit of sellotape stuck to my finger and it won’t come off. I can only imagine what my demeanour would be like if locked in a classroom with 30 hell-demons. You are heroes, every last one of you.

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Choose To Be Kind

Yesterday, when I picked Beth up from after school club, I had an accident form to sign for her. She’d been hit in the eye by a ball which one of the other kids had thrown.

“We knew she’d been properly hurt,” said one of the ladies who runs after school club, “because she cried. And Beth never cries.”

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