The Ultimate Sacrifice

This was 12 years in the making, people. I swore I would never do this. My first husband couldn’t even get me to do this, and he begged. I did laundry instead. I’d watch the kids to avoid it. What is this thing I ran away from for so long?

Dungeons and Dragons.

My in-laws remember this as if it was yesterday. Their first born, the “best kid” as he likes to call himself; down in their basement, playing a game that involves dice, imagination, and many, many hardcover books that can be conveniently carried from place to place in a milk crate you stole from the back of a grocery store. They warned me about this, but I knew. He had let it go when we first married, even selling some of his minis and books to my ex-husband; unintentionally allowing the ex to find out who I was married to after him (whoops!). He did not speak of it for many years, until….

Work sent my husband back to the Boston area, where he met up with some of his old friends from school who were, still to this day, playing D&D. He came home all a twitter about it, wanting to play. He roped my brothers into it; although they actually came willingly. Books were bought. Minis purchased. Dice replaced.

I started slow. I painted minis to contribute to the gameplay. That was fun, and I really enjoyed spending time with my hubby doing something he truly loves. Then he started writing campaigns, and would ask me to read them. He really has a knack for this stuff, I noted. Soon he was asking me to read stuff for his NPC (Non-Playing Character). These are characters that are part of the game, but are really supporting characters that the party interacts with. Think of background characters in a movie and you can see where these fit in. That was fun too, and it allowed me to take part but not really take part. I was down with that.

We went to a store called Sci-Fi City. Have you been? If not, you need to go. Forget Disney and Universal. This place is Mecca for gaming enthusiasts. We live over an hour from this place and every now and again it calls to us. So usually when we go I’m coralling the kids while hubby shops for what he wants and needs.

Since getting me started in this, now *I* get to look at things. Did you know they have all kinds of dice? All shapes and colors? REALLY pretty dice? I fell in love. Well, in lust. You could spend all day at the dice counter. It’s like the Tiffany and Co. of the game store.

I’m excited to play this game if only because I now have cool dice to play with. Isn’t that sad?

So now, I too have joined the “big kids” at the table. It’s not what I thought it was, and those who say it’s evil and demonic really haven’t played the game. There’s evil characters in it, and some people make characters that are evil, but I think you already have to be heading in an evil direction to take this into the real world and try to apply it in an evil way. My point, if you are looking for evil, you can find it anywhere, and blaming a game you play for turning you evil is a load of hooey. It’s a lot about teamwork, and strategy, and even lessons you forget as you get older like taking turns and consideration.

For instance, it’s not required, but it IS polite to ask the party first before lopping the head off the serpent if your character can “finish him off”. Someone else might want to, or you may not survive if it retaliates.

These are important life lessons brought to you by D&D.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go admire my dice and how it picks up the light.

Wishing on an FCAT Star….

M’s taking the FCAT this week and next week for 5th grade. So far he’s had the reading portion, which I think is his weakest subject. Not that he doesn’t like to read, he really does, but he has some difficulty retaining the subtext he reads. Fictional stories and comprehension of the moral or lesson escapes him. If it is factual, or an encyclopedia, or a dictionary (he has worn through several copies in our home) he’s your guy. His ability to recall facts and figures is astounding; but ask him what the lesson of Shiloh is and he’s lost.

So I’m a little worried.

Yesterday when I picked him up from school he seemed in great spirits and when I asked him how he thought he did he said he felt good about his answers. This is a good sign; because if he’s stressed he shows it like a new suit, it’s all over him.

Then again, he could have been excited about the fact that there is no homework due to the FCAT. Oh, and that I lifted the GameCube rule so he could have a treat this week to help him relax for the FCAT.

Still worried, but hopeful.

Human Kindness via e-mail

Thanks to Uncle Bob for posting this, this is definitely spam I wouldn’t have minded reading had my spam blocker not caught it. We need more stories like this instead of the other junk I get in my e-mail.

Enjoy!

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TWO CHOICES

What would you do? You make the choice! Don’t look for a punch line; There isn’t one! Read it anyway. My question to all of you is: Would you have made the same choice?

At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning disabled children,the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:

“When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?”

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued. “I believe,that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes, in the way other people treat that child.”

Then he told the following story:

Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball.

Shay asked,”Do you think they’ll let me play?”

Shay’s father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

Shay’s father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shay could play, not expecting much.

The boy looked around for guidance and said, “We’re losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we’ll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.”

Shay struggled over to the team’s bench put on a team shirt with a broad smile and his Father had a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart.

The boys saw the father’s joy at his son being accepted.

In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay’s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field.

Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands.

In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay’s team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.

At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?

Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn’t even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.

However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing the other team putting winning aside for this moment in Shay’s life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least be able to make contact.

The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed.

The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay.

As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.

The game would now be over, but the pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.

Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the head of the first baseman, out of reach of all team mates.

Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, “Shay, run to first! Run to first!” Never in his life had Shay ever ran that far but made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Everyone yelled, “Run to second, run to second!”

Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to second base.

By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball, the smallest guy on their team, who had a chance to be the hero for his team for the first time.

He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher’s intentions and he too intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman’s head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

All were screaming, “Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay”

Shay reached third base, the opposing shortstop ran to help him ! and turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, “Run to third! Shay, run to third”

As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams and those watching were on their feet were screaming, “Shay, run home!”

Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the “grand slam” and won the
game for his team.

That day, said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world.

Shay didn’t make it to another summer and died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his Father so happy and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

AND, NOW A LITTLE FOOTNOTE TO THIS STORY: We all send thousands of jokes through the e-mail without a second thought, but when it comes to sending messages about life choices, people think twice about sharing. The crude, vulgar, and often obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often suppressed in our schools and workplaces.

If you’re thinking about forwarding this message, chances are that you’re probably sorting out the people on your address list that aren’t the “appropriate” ones to receive this type of message. Well, the person who sent you this believes that we all can make a difference. We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the “natural order of things.” So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice: Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up that opportunity to brighten the day of those with us the least able, and leave the world a little bit colder in the process?

A wise man once said every society is judged by how it treats it’s least fortunate amongst them.

Birthday Babysitting

Before I begin, I’m going to say that most of this post is going to be a rant. There are some things in here about the birthday party, but something happened during the party that was so shocking, so appalling, that it has sort of overshadowed the party.

So here goes:

Shash’s Party Checklist

Saturday Afternoon…..check
Chips and dips………check
Streamers and balloons..check
said balloons popping in the pool…check
bounce house………..check
friends and family…..check

brand new neighbor I had never met introducing and then dropping off her two girls because they saw the bounce house and wanted to play in it……

WTF????????

You read that right folks. She dropped off her kids and left my house without them, and told me to call her when I was ready to send them home. I had met her for the first time in that moment. It wasn’t like I had met her earlier this week, this month, this year. I. Had. Met. Her. In. That. Moment. And it wasn’t like it was a moment that was used wisely to find out about her and her daughters either. She just told me where she lived, her name, and her phone number. That’s it. I know more about my UPS guy than her at this point. She knows equally as much about me, I might add. All she knew was my name, that I have 2 boys; one of which was having a birthday party, and that we have a few cool toys that were scattered around in the front room. Not exactly enough info to leave your children with a person for over 2 hours.

I have absolutely no problem watching other people’s kids. I actually enjoy it, in moderation. There were a couple of kids form the ‘hood who’s parents had dropped them off; but we have been friends for years. No big deal. But I can tell you that wouldn’t have happened 5 years ago when we first moved here. As a matter of fact, many of us parents would be outside watching our kids play and ride bikes. It took many of us a long time to tag team watching the kids as a group instead of having all of us out there, in our driveways or puttering in our yards while our kids played. I don’t know the reasons why the other parents didn’t do it, but my reasoning was that I didn’t want to be a mooch, or even make people even think I would be a mooch. I didn’t want people to think I wanted to or would take advantage of them. I’m kind of sensitive to that, it’s probably rooted in my childhood or something. That type-A personality trait that hates to disappoint might play a part in that too. Oh, and for some bizarre reason I worry about taking advantage of others, but others seem to have very little difficulty taking advantage of me. This would be one of those cases in point.

So these girls are at the party, jumping in the bounce house, running amok, and eating everything in sight. No problem, we have plenty. Then one of the girls asks for something to drink and the following ensues:

girl (age 4): I want something to drink
fom(friend of mine): would you like a juice box?
girl: no. I want milk.
fom: no, you can have a juice box or a water in a cup.
girl: I want milk.
fom: you can either have water or juice. No milk.
girl: I want milk.
me: sweetie, we don’t have any milk. You can have juice or water, but we have no milk.
girl: okay (big loud sigh). I’ll have water.

Then when I told them it was time to go I was told no flat out and the 4 year old went and played with the cat, trying to ignore me or hope I wouldn’t notice her off to the side. I was carrying her shoes and telling her it was time to go. I called her mom who sounded annoyed that the phone rang to let her know that her girls were on their way home, and we were watching them walk there.

I didn’t even get a thank you.

Bounce houses, a blessing and a curse, I tell you.

You Are Four!

Happy (belated) Birthday, Doodlebug!!

It seems like just yesterday I freaked your father out by calling him at his hotel in Galveston to tell him we were going to bring you into the world. It was so much fun this weekend to celebrate turning four with you, I didn’t get to post this until today. You are one amazing little boy. You are sweet, funny, kind and a really good friend. You can also be cranky, whiny, frustrating and apparently rather annoying to hear your brother tell it. (for what it’s worth, he matches you measure for measure in that regard.) You’re so handsome, and you make my heart soar when you ask me for high fives, a hug, or tell me Good Morning, Mommy! to start my day.

You’ve grown up a lot in the past year. Your speech has improved, and more people than just me now understand what you are trying to tell us. It’s kind of sad for me to know I don’t need to be around as much to translate for you. You have new friends, and I enjoy hanging back, in the shadows, to see you interact with your buddies. You have a kind, gentle soul; but you can also belt out a “That’s MINE!!!” with the best of ‘em. (trust me on this, you are LOUD!) I love that you are enjoying your Pre-K class, and can give me a kiss and a wave instead of crying, screaming, and attaching yourself to my leg as I try to leave. I really like it when you name all of your classmates for me. The sound of your voice (most of the time, when you are not crying or screaming) makes me feel so happy. I am truly blessed to have you in my life, and I am beyond honored that you call me mom.

You really love your big brother, and some day he will look past his annoyance of you and you guys can kick it old school. I see flashes of that happening every now and again, but I’m hoping that over time it becomes more permanent. It should, so hang tight, okay?

Daddy doesn’t have a blog, so I’ll just throw in that he loves you so much, loves to go find pine cones in the “spooky forest” with you; and find snakes and turtles anywhere you guys can. Even when he travels, you and your brother are always on his mind, and he’s proud of all the great things you have done; from potty training to climbing trees. He loves each and every hair on your head, even if you hate him to wash it (you know it needs to be done though, right?). He’s one proud papa.

I have to close by saying that you could never be mistaken for being another persons child if only for the fact that you, my dear, love iced tea (out of my glass), Doritos, and Slim Jims. A healthy balanced diet if I ever saw one. Hopefully you’ll grow to love sushi as much as I did when I was pregnant with you* so someone else in this family will eat it with me. It’s lonely being the only sushi lover!

Happy Birthday, my big, strong, blankie loving four year old.

Love, Mom

*I should clarify that while I ate sushi during my pregnancy, they were only California Rolls and not any types of sushi that contained raw fish. The only thing raw in there is vegetables, and you can (and should) eat those while pregnant. Eating raw fish can harm you and your baby during a pregnancy. I also should disclose that I got my doctor’s approval before I ate any sushi. I also recommend that if you live near a Wolfgang Puck’s that you immediately after finding out you can have said sushi call a good friend, and head over there to gorge on California Rolls until you burst. I did (gorge, not burst. That came later.)

Mommybits 2/17/06

Some random thoughts and things that happened this week:

1. If you have kids, and their birthdays fall during the school year, chances are you have brought cupcakes or something similar to your child’s class. Since both of my kids are in Elementary School, and both have birthdays that fall during the school year (I think me and the hubby secretly planned it that way, since both of our birthdays fall smack-dab in the middle of the summer and we felt gypped as kids); I’m usually bringing something to the class to celebrate thier special days, even though many of those kids will be back at my house soon for the party that’s planned. R’s 4th Birthday is Saturday, so in I went with the cupcakes. As I approached the classroom (which is a portable adjacent to the school. This happens quite a bit in Florida schools.), I noticed R playing with a friend of his, and he took no notice of me. This is good, because I was hoping to sneak in and out of there without an emotional scene. This was quickly ruined, however, when many of his classmates, who HAD seen me, began chanting: R, your mom is here! R, your mom is here. Blasted kids! (scooby doo moment?)
2. Having a bounce house in your backyard is like becoming a kid magnet, everyone rings your doorbell and wants to play with your kids, even if they don’t normally stop by.
3. Bribing your kid to go to school with the thought that they will be bringing cupcakes to their friends in class can’t compete with playing games at home all day on the computer.
4. To a 4 year-old, that Guinness BRILLIANT! commercial can and WILL get you out of bed at ungodly hours just so you can see it.
5. Grey’s Anatomy on DVD is BRILLIANT! My hubby watched several shows with me (and liked them!).
6. My house is never clean long enough for me to enjoy it.
7. Husbands can (and often do) love you even on days you aren’t feeling very sexy. I’ve had a few of those kinds of days as of late, and my hubby has been very understanding and patient.
8. The Backyardigans sing some catchy tunes. They’ll rattle around in your head for DAYS!
9. and finally, nothing can ruin your blogging train of thought quicker than your husband exclaiming from the kitchen; “Honey, where’s the oyster sauce?”, and knowing you have to get up to help him find it.

On the upside, he IS cooking me lunch!

There’s party plans tomorrow for a certain 4 year old, and I will tell all about that with photos; plus I have to write about my newest thing, playing D&D with my husband. All coming up!

The Surgery Chronicles

It has officially been a week since my surgery, and I’m not in as much pain as I was this time last week. I’m also not as comatose, and I actually miss that.

Here’s a play by play of the week so you can prance around in my size sixes:

Tuesday: Surgery scheduled for 10:00 A.M., Don’t start getting the good drugs until almost noon. Slightly disappointed, but all was made up for once the drip started. Don’t remember being wheeled into the OR at all. Didn’t like being woken up, I do remember that. Night passed in a blur of naps, kids being quiet, and thinking I could actually handle soup after a day like that. Think I had half a cracker that stuck to the roof of my mouth.

Wednesday: Discovered that sleeping lying down wasn’t such a good idea, and instead dozed most of the day propped up on several pillows. Began watching what was to become my staple all week: Coupling Seasons 1-4 (the BBC Version). The only problem with this stellar idea was that laughing made things hurt, and these shows make you laugh. Was worth it though.

Took a shower seated in a deck chair my hubby brought in from the lanai. Changed bandages and cringed at the sight of the 4 incisions on my torso. Ugh.

Religiously took my pain medicine. Sometimes double dipped on the religiousness if it was religiously necessary, which it was. This shit hurts!

Thursday: This was my favorite day. My brother spent the night so he could take me for my allergy shot. (Holla!) Took M to his Dr. for a physical, then took him to school, to which he was thrilled to say the least. (Insert sarcastic tone, please) Then went for the allergy shot, which we got to just in time. (They lock the doors.) Hoofed it home and spent the rest of the afternoon in bed. Despaired over the mess that my house was becoming, but then I beat my Type-A personality into submission and turned on Coupling. Felt good enough to catch up on my TiVo’ed shows, like, say Lost.

Friday: M’s Valentine Dance night. Pain meds in full swing. Had to stay at the dance for M, he was nervous, but ended up having a great time. He was there with his best friend, D, and met up with some classmates. Made me feel nostalgic for my childhood. It was nice to see I wasn’t the only one who went to a school dance in a formal dress. Yep, I was a girly girl. Now, not so much. D spent the night (yes, I know she’s a girl, but M says he’s too young to think of things like love) and they had a great time watching movies and eating popcorn.

Saturday: This was “run errands” day and boy, did we! Went to the Florida Mall to Build-A-Bear to get M’s bear, Woodrow, restitched up. (D’s birthday party there was the weekend previous) The boys had me make a get-well bear, which I outfitted in scrubs and named Dr. Shepherd McBeary. (Holla to Grey’s Anatomy fans!)

Build-A-Bear Workshops are fabulous! We had a great time, then went to California Pizza Kitchen to celebrate D’s and R’s February birthdays. Got home and played some D&D with my hubby and brothers. (That’s for another post, this D&D thing. I’m really new to this and not sure what I’m doing, but I’m spending quality time with the older men in my life, and that can’t be a bad thing, right?

Sunday: Spent the day lying low. I needed to after the craziness of the previous few days. Watched Hustle, which has become my new fave show. Made a birthday breakfast brunch for Nannie, as it was her special day. Watched some of the Weather Channel, and breathed a sigh of relief we no longer lived in New England. Stayed up for Grey’s Anatomy, passed out soon after.

(woke up several times for bathroom breaks, but I won’t bore you with the details.)

My Type-A personality has kicked back in and cleaning my house has become a slow, arduous process. Hopefully I’ll have finished to my satisfaction before R’s party on Saturday.

Yes, you read it right, I’m slavishly cleaning my house for the under 5 set. Like they care. The Bounce House is all they care about.

But sadly, I care. Probably more than I should. I worry that the parents of R’s little friends will think he lives in a hovel. Silly, I know.

At least that’s what my husband says it is.

Happy Valentines Day

I’m currently sitting across from my sweetie typing this while he’s working (or saving Civilization on the PC game, it varies from moment to moment), and I thought it would be neat of I snuck this up here and told him to go look at my blog.

Happy Valentines Day, lover man. You da best!

Aren’t you glad you could share in that touching, Hallmark moment? Good, because I didn’t get to see old man Hallmark before today. Gallbladder surgery healing and all that.

Posting more later about M’s first dance and my recovery diary. It’s a hoot!

They Will (hopefully) Sell No Wine…

So, I’m over reading the entries at The Mommy Blog when I come across this little entry. Here it is in it’s entirety, but I implore you to pop over and check out her site. It’s become another of my daily reads!

Thanks, Mindy!

Soon, Wal-Mart customers will be able to sample a new discount item:

Wal-Mart’s own brand of wine. The world’s largest retail chain is teaming up with Robert Mondavi Winery of California, to produce the spirits at an
affordable price, in the $2 – $5 range.

Wine connoisseurs may not be inclined to throw a bottle of Wal-Mart brand into their shopping carts, but “there is a market for cheap wine”, said Kathy Micken, professor of marketing. She said: “The right name is important.”

So, here we go:
Top 10 suggested names for Wal-Mart Wine:

10. Chateau Traileur Parc
9. White Trashfindel
8. Big Red Gulp
7. World Championship Riesling
6. NASCARbernet
5. Chef Boyardeaux
4. Peanut Noir
3. I Can’t Believe It’s Not Vinegar!
2. Grape Expectations

And the number 1 name for Wal-Mart Wine:

1. Nasti Spumante

The beauty of Wal-Mart wine is that it can be served with white meat (Possum) or red meat (squirrel).

(i’m not sure how to do this track back thing, but here’s the link: The Mommy Blog)

Supermommy to the Rescue!!!

UP, UP, and AWAAAAAAY!!!!

hee.

So, I had my meeting on Friday.

Fortunately, the day before, I had my first allergy shot that encompasses all my allergy issues. Actually, I had two shots, one more than I would have preferred, truth be told.

Oh. My. God. The pain. The itching. The swelling. MAKE. IT. STOP.
(and that was only in the first five minutes)

You have to stay there for half an hour after the shot is administered, and they like to see your epi-pen, you know, just in case. So I showed them I did, in fact, have one; and that gained me entry into the inner sanctum where the shots are given. I had a little trouble breathing afterwards, but not enough to break out the epi.

Yep. REALLY looking forward to this week’s shot, soon on the heels of my gallbladder surgery. (On the good side, I will be chauffeur driven by none other than my brother.) It’ll be like old times, right bro? ‘Cept I won’t be waking you up at the crack of dawn to take me to school…

…my kids will.

Ah, the circle of life continues.

_________________________________

Anyhoo, back to the meeting on Friday for M. Got there early, had small talk with the Autism Staffing Specialist whom I like. Thought this meeting was supposed to be bigger than it was, since the OT (Occupational Therapist) said she had invited the ESE Guidance Counselor. This usually means big things and we could be making changes to his IEP. M’s teacher wasn’t there, and the old OT wasn’t there either. The new one was, and we got off to a rolling start.

Let me preface this by saying two things. First, I’m not really a bitch. I can play a great one when I have to, or when I’m backed into a corner. I’m actually a very nice person. Sadly, the new OT doesn’t think I’m very nice. At all. Second, M hates Social Stories. Especially ones that deal with fire drills. M would prefer if fire alarms had a nice soothing tone to them, instead of the piercing wail that they are. He would also prefer that schools never had fire drills. Ever. So with all of that in mind, I give you:

Me, sitting at a long table with the OT at the other end, the ESE Coordinator to my left a seat length or two away; the Staffing specialist on my right about the same distance as the ESE Coordinator is from me; and next to her on her right is the ESE Guidance Councelor. Quite a group.

Me, listening as the OT introduces herself and apologizes that the old one isn’t there. Then she asks me if I have any concerns. Do I have concerns? Maybe….

So I launch into how I don’t want any social stories done with M for any reason. Period. That the fire drill issue has been addressed to the best of it’s ability, and we need to move on. However, if she feels inclined to, say, help him utilize the Alpha Smart keyboard the school has procured for him but he has yet to use, that would be great, please and thank you. (side note: his teacher told me it was not working, she had tried to set it up.)

She then explains she’s only there to monitor him, and that he would need to be removed from class to do this task; and we’d have to take him off monitoring to do it. Wha?

Let me get this straight. You’re only supposed to be in there monitoring (def: scrutinizing and checking systematically with a view to collecting data) him, yet you have time to freak him out over a fire drill social story but that same time you don’t have time to teach him something useful? Did I miss something? …Bueller?

Can you hear the screaming from where you are sitting? That would be me.

So I commence gripping the table ’til my hands turn white and the staffing specialist turns to the OT and pretty much rushes her out of the room.

I’m losing my shit people. Not pretty.

RDCV: (Reader’s Digest Condensed Version; this has been in my edit tray since 2/6, it’s now 2/13!)

Meeting (I thought) went well. They agreed to bring back an aide for M, and to have the ESE person pop in to check on M; oh and pretty please get those report things to the teacher on time, will ya? This was all done without M’s teacher present, and I have to say at the time I was surprised she wasn’t there.

Monday before surgery, my phone rings and it’s M’s teacher, rather upset because the ESE Coordinator has given M’s teacher a bullet point list of all the things I said she (the teacher) “should be doing”, and that she needs to do them.

I don’t remember saying that at all. I DO remember saying things like “M’s teacher does more for M than she should have to, that an aide would be good in helping her out”; and “M’s teacher goes above and beyond for him, and I’m really grateful we have her.” I also remember saying the ESE chica should be “doing” some things, not just passing the buck.

Sadly, that’s exactly what she did. And blamed it on me.

Like I’m gonna let that slide.

_________________________
2/13/06

Surgery went well. Chest hurts still but each day I’m feeling stronger. Hoping to get back into swing of things this week. M went to his first school dance. Will put pictures up later this week.

Everything else? To quote Ms. Spears from last week’s carseat-gate: “It is what it is”.

Laters.