Just Some Stuff

What a stressful week.  This is my fifth attempt at a post for you, but nothing is coming together in my head.  It’s really scary in there – don’t look.

I’ve decided I just have to write, see what comes, then click “publish” before I think about it too much.

Our school district took yesterday off in honor of Cesar Chavez.

I didn’t remember this until I drove up to the bus loop and found the parking lot completely deserted.

My son couldn’t have smiled wider when I told him he didn’t have to go to school after all.

Yippee!  I was relieved too.

Things are getting dicey again.  He’s having more tantrums and the aides and teacher seem increasingly weary.

On Monday it took five people to wrangle him back indoors at the end of recess.  Naturally, he had a meltdown in the classroom.

I can’t blame him for wanting a break.  I want one too.

I feel like a broken record when I say that there is no environment that makes me feel less successful than his school does.

That’s really more about me though, not them and certainly not him.

My son is in the right place for the moment.  He likes it.  He learns.  He needs the routine and it’s free.

The problem is, every inch of it makes me uncomfortable.

In the course of advocating for my son over the past three years, I’ve ruffled some feathers.

I know that there are people on the campus who may not like or trust me or approve of the way I handle things.

I’m not blind to my impact on the school’s agenda, but I do what I have to do for my kid and for my own sanity, you know?

I help when I am directly asked, but I never volunteer for things.  I am not part of the PTA and I don’t attend other meetings or events if they are not directly related to my son and his educational goals.

Next week, there will be a brief conference with the teacher.  I am sort of dreading it, but not because it will include any surprises or that it will be something I can’t do.

I am dreading it because I grew up wanting everyone to like me and that’s the first casualty of a life with a special needs kid.

I have to go to these meetings knowing I will make myself unpopular.  I will ask for things they don’t want to give or don’t know how to give.  I will have to push and explain why “no” is not acceptable.  I will ruffle more feathers.

And then for a few weeks, I will have a heightened sense of disconnect with the whole place as I recover from my boldness.

I will be a little paranoid around the other parents, wondering if they know I’m that mom.

I will sit alone as I wait for my kid at the end of each day.

I will try to discern from a two second interaction with the teacher whether or not there is improvement or if she finds me and my son hopeless.

I will bite back the stressful butterflies in my stomach and go forward.  Things will get better with new strategies in place.

And then it will start again.

Yeah, I need a break.

We went to Coronado today.  I never get tired of that!  Even with big gray clouds overhead, it’s beautiful along the water.

We started at Tidelands Park as usual, played for a while, then walked to Burger King, The Coronado Cupcakery and Coldstone.

The little boy chose a big lemon cupcake with bright yellow frosting, but as usual, he rejected it without a taste for reasons we’ll never know.  😦

Husband and I were happy to eat it for him.  It was really moist and included a thin surprise layer of lemon curd near the bottom.  Delicious.  🙂

You may recall that their vanilla cupcake already has my heart♥felt approval.  Two for two.  Good job, Cupcakery!!  I love you.  😉

I haven’t been to Coldstone in about five years.  Our intention today was only to get a small scoop for the boy since he seemed disappointed with his cupcake choice.

Standing in front of the counter with a rainbow of options before us, husband and I realized we were defenseless.  Despite the cupcake still working its way to our guts, we couldn’t resist.

I highly recommend the Sweet Cream with Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups crushed in.  Yummy spectacular!

Hmmm…

Can’t really think of anything else to say.

Except, oh yeah…

Big Fat Happy Birthday to my beautiful niece!!  😀

Are you really 17?

No, you can’t be!

Oh…I’m old.

Old.