This is Dexter's favourite new occupation: dragging himself up to a standing position using the bin, pressing the lid to open it, and looking at the rubbish. The husband and I are actively discouraging said activity. The boy ignores us.
Today was rubbish. It was stressful, having to teach a normal day's lessons and try to prepare for the two-day inspection.
I also had to make some frantic phonecalls to keep Dexter at nursery until six and arrange for the husband to take him there tomorrow morning to maximise my time before the bell to prepare for the day ahead. Rubbish.
I stayed up until just before midnight: rubbish.
What if I can't do the teaching thing anymore now I'm juggling lots of other stuff? What if they come to my lesson and the verdict is: rubbish?!?...