Slept through my alarm clocks this morning. So I wake up to my dad yelling at me asking me if the boys went to school and he’s standing there at the door with Little Bear sitting there at the computer.
My response was, “Well fuck. Obviously not, he’s right there and I slept through all the alarm clocks.”
So I’m running around trying to get an argumentative Little Bear ready for school – NO COFFEE – and realize that Tuxedo Cat is nowhere to be found.
I start freaking out and that’s when Little Bear decides to tell me, “Oh, he went to school.”
So I drag Little Bear to school, with him complaining the entire way. I get back home and call up the special ed teacher at Tuxedo Cat’s school – partly because I know twice this week she has called for me while I was out all day – and asked her if Tuxedo Cat made it to school.
Last time this happened, he stayed home and when I took him to school (late) I told him if he wanted to be on the Special Olympics team then he has to go to school. He takes the team very seriously.
And yes, I scheduled the transitioning IEP planning meeting with her while I was at it. Tuxedo Cat is going to be a Freshman in high school next year!
He’s bigger than me already and his voice has changed – the cracking has just about stopped now. I can’t believe this once little guy is so grown up now. I’m trying not to be sad as I look at his assessment screenings this year.
He’s come so far, but he’s still going to need mega supports in place once he graduates. And this is where I’m grateful for my family. He will always be taken care of even after I’m gone. Dad and I are already trying to set things up to make sure of that.
My dad already has a Life Estate set up for my grandmother and aunt. He says it would be in Tuxedo Cat’s best interest if we can do the same for him. Unfortunately even setting up a trailer on the property costs a ton of money. A road/driveway needs to be put in and the sewer, the well, the foundation – that’s not even the building yet. And I have no doubt I’m forgetting something – oh, like power and phone lines. They charge you for installing that. But once that’s all set up, he has a home for as long as he lives and regardless of who ends up with the deed, he can’t be kicked out. Not that we see anyone in our family doing that even without a Life Estate, but shit happens and what if the family lost the deed? Tuxedo Cat would be protected.
This is one of the few times I’m grateful that Dad always sees the worst case scenario in things. Any other time, I’ll admit, I tend to blow him off. This is one of the few things that I’m not like my dad. Honestly, I can’t think of anything else where we’re significantly different. Well, he says I’m lax with my rules but there’s a reason for that. I refuse to micromanage my children all day, every day.
Anyway, that’s my day so far and it’s just barely approaching 9am.
Soon I’ll be taking Scholar Owl to his therapy appointment and hopefully we will be able to sort some things out for him. Even the therapist sees what I’m seeing in him: depression. And it has us both worried. He’s in a state where he needs external intervention. I’m hoping that he’ll cooperate and respond to whatever adjustments to his care plan we come up with.
Yesterday was Little Bear’s med clinic appointment and we got that same doctor that wants to put anti-psychotic meds. This time at least she was friendly and actually spoke to me, but the moment she listened to his diagnosis, she brought up the anti-psychotics again. I filed a complaint in their satisfaction survey. Told them if we get stuck with her, I’m taking all my kids somewhere else despite the fact we’ve been receiving great care up to this point. At least she didn’t argue with me this time and just increased his Lamictal dose.
I don’t know how many times I’ve ranted about anti-psychotics in children. I refuse to put a growing brain on any of those when we haven’t exhausted our other options. Even if they didn’t permanently change brain chemistry, the long list of other side effects they come with is enough to concern me. Besides, he’s improving on the Lamictal and not even close to the max dose.
Since adding the Trazadone to his night meds, he’s been sleeping better and the aggression has just about completely died. The nurse says it has anti-anxiety properties so it’s probably helping out a lot there where school sucks so bad for him right now. They even looked into Dyslexia screening for him – the doctor asked a colleague about it and they said at his age the academic reading assessments would produce better results. So we’re going to let the school do that since they offered to anyway.
From the way his last IEP determination meeting sounded, the results of that screening alone will get him an IEP. It just pisses me off that it took three years to get to this point when it shouldn’t have with the diagnoses he has but the school district’s special ed director is obsessed with having the child below a certain point with their IQ before approving them. This time though, she’s hard pressed to play that card when this child has been in Kindergarten three times and is only now developing basic, pre-reading skills. Complete bullshit. Even then she tried to pass the buck and dismiss me but the school staff (bless their hearts) ganged up on her with all the reading assessments they have on him from the last three years. The special ed teacher is new but she feels that I’m spot on with this after she’s been working with him and she’s determined to get him the Dyslexia supports in place. Her and I both believe that his mood and behavior in school will improve if we can do that.
When there’s a will, there’s a way. And this is going to happen.
Meanwhile I’m running around in a mixed state, groping at straws for functionality. My sleep cycle has gone completely out of whack. And I found out this week that I won’t have another med clinic appointment until I get the damn blood work they want done. Fucking awesome. I swear I’m not afraid of needles. The problem is the minimum 8 hours of fasting – not even my usual coffee with the cream and sugar. I’m always fucking that shit up, so I haven’t gone in to get it done.
And it needs to be done because I’m out of meds. I don’t think I even have a refill floating around at this point. I might at Walmart but I haven’t checked because I thought the med clinic appointment would be soon. Not the case at all.
I need to get that fixed. This bullshit of pretending to be functional when you have kids is insane.
Hell, I haven’t even started my mood tracker for this week. Awesome.