Maybe 16 Will Be Better

Remember how I wrote yesterday that despite what I think or say, I would not trade The Boy? Well, I am having second thoughts!

The day started out well enough. Matter of fact, it didn't start going bad until the sun went down and it has carried over into today. What happened? Autism. It sucks.

I picked The Boy up from school and we immediately headed into town for him to take the written portion of his driving exam. In the state of Missouri, once a kid turns 15, they may take and pass the written exam to get a learner's permit. They have to have it in their possession for a minimum of 6 months before they can take the driving portion of the exam when they turn 16.

I go with him inside to give them his birth certificate and that sort of thing and then I sit in the waiting area while he takes the test. After about 15-20 minutes or so, out comes The Boy holding his birth certificate and a piece of paper with his picture on it. HE PASSED!!! He was officially a permitted learner! I am so proud!

He tells me that he passed "but barely." I reassure him that passing is passing no matter how close it is. We head to the car, but have to stop to take a couple of pictures of course! He is all grins until I point the camera at him.

We head across town to the license bureau where I pay $3.50 to get him what looks like a driver's license. As we get into the car, I pull out my camera again and get this picture:

He is really trying not to smile. Don't mind those little black marks on the license. I decided to black out the license number and a couple of other identifying things just in case someone has more sophisticated equipment than I do (which wouldn't be difficult to accomplish) and want to steal an identity. Can't be too careful, ya know?

So, things are going fairly well at this point. I call Crazy Man who is already back in town from his day of driving. We go to meet him at his mom's house where The Boy receives hugs from his grandma. We then head out to my mom's work where he gets more hugs. It is then off to Arby's (his choice) to celebrate.

Again, things are still going fine. I ask Crazy Man to go to a local store to pick up a new wallet for The Boy while we go to Wal-Mart for me to pick up the birthday present that was to be waiting for me to pick up. When The Boy got his permit, he said it didn't fit well into the wallet he has. So, since what we had picked up for him because the thing we ordered was not in for his birthday didn't work (following me here???), I thought the new wallet was a great idea. And I knew of the perfect one. It is called a Bacon Wallet. It looks like someone took a slab of bacon and just folded it in half to make a wallet. I figured he would love it because it is fun and he loves bacon.

Off we go to do the errands and head for home. I get a message from Crazy Man that he has the wallet before The Boy and I ever make it to Wal-Mart. I leave The Boy at the pumpkins to choose one (because the really expensive one we bought has rotted before he could ever get it to school to carve), and head back to pick up his present.

I had taken a picture in to the photo lab to have made into a computer skin for him. I tell the girl that I am there to pick it up and she just looks at me funny and says "but I know I didn't call you to come get it." What?! I hand her my receipt which says it would be available for pick up after 5pm on October 26.

She takes the receipt, looks again and picks up the phone to call whoever. She comes back to the counter and tells me that it is not in the store. And she has been told that it may make it in on Wednesday after 5pm. She says she was told that it was sent out on the 23rd and if it isn't in the store yet, then they aren't quite sure where it could be.

This is where it all starts to fall apart. I am nearly in tears. The Boy was nearly in tears on Sunday when he didn't get his present and the one we did get him (a laptop case) was the wrong size. Now what am I supposed to do? They give me a coupon that says my order will be free when it finally comes in. Nice. But it doesn't fix the predicament.

I get The Boy who has found an awesomely huge pumpkin for under $4 and off we go for home.

I tell him on the way that his present may or may not be in on Wednesday. I was wanting him to get it without my telling him what it was, but decided that I would go ahead and tell him since we have no idea when it will arrive. He just looks at me and says "if we have to re-order it, can we pick out a different picture?"

Great. First it isn't here for his birthday. Then it isn't here when they say it will be. Now, he doesn't like it anyway. What else can go wrong?

Well, I'll tell you.

We get home, get settled and give him the new wallet. The Boy is all smiles putting his permit into it and looking at it. All of a sudden, he takes his permit out, looks at me and says "I don't like it and I'm not going to use it."

What?! He was just all smiles and happy about it. What could have possibly changed in the past one and a half seconds to make him hate it? He decided that other kids would make fun of him for having it.

I can't win for losing. I cry, he gets upset because I am crying. Crazy Man hugs me and tries to explain to The Boy why it is that my feelings are hurt. The Boy still doesn't get it. And I am pissed off at Autism.

Makes no sense, but it is true. I feel like without it, most other kids would have just told me with more tact that they were afraid others would laugh at them or whatever. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe I should be pissed off at teenagers in general. I don't know.

This morning, we get in the car to head to work/school. Before we get all the way down our lane, I ask The Boy if he has everything in his backpack and he assures me that he does.

Nearly 20 minutes later, we show up in front of the elementary where he gets out to get his stuff and catch the bus to head to the high school. As I shut my door, I hear the word "oops" come from the mouth of my most favorite 15 year old child.

He had left his backpack at home. Evidently I had asked the wrong question earlier. What I should have asked him was if he had everything in his backpack and was the backpack in the car. Silly me. Guess I should have been more specific.

We load back up into the car and speed (literally) home to get the darn thing. I get him to school just in time for him to walk into his first hour class without being counted tardy. Or at least I am hoping that is the way it happened. I, on the other hand, am 20 minutes late officially and nearly 45 minutes past the time I am normally arriving.

Needless to say, I am questioning my ability, and my desire, to be a parent of a 15 year old child.

I ♥ The Boy

On October 25, 1994, I became a mom to a wonderful 6lb 9oz baby boy. Yesterday, that baby turned 15 years old. I fully believe that I am too young to have a child that is taller than I am and that old.

These are two of the pictures that I have hanging in my living room. In the one of the left, he is about 6 weeks old. The one on the right is from last year. I try to put a recent shot in the one frame on the right, but haven't gotten one for this year yet. It just amazes me everytime I look at these shots to see just how much he has changed and grown.

Yesterday, as planned, everyone gathered at my grandparent's house after The Boy was dropped off from his weekend with his father. By everyone, I mean me and Crazy Man, my parents, my grandparents, my two brothers, my aunt, my nephew and a couple of friends who we are The Boy's honorary aunt and uncle.

He walked away with money, a video game, a puzzle, a couple of sweatshirts and today we will be going to pick up (I am hoping it finally arrived) his computer skin that was ordered. He had a good time, although he would never admit it!

This is the look he gave me when I asked him to smile for his birthday photo. As you can see, he wasn't too thrilled with the camera pointed at him!

My mother-in-law had made cupcakes and I put the icing on while Crazy Man added sprinkles. These were the 'Funfetti' type of cupcakes which he has requested for several years in a row. (Ever since he found out that there was such a kind.)


Blowing out the candles for the second time. When I asked if he had made a wish, he said yes and before I could snap a picture, the candles were blown out. Had to have him do it again so I could get a shot!
I am so very much still in love with The Boy. He is my world and everything I do is done with him in mind. My world has been a chaotic rollercoaster since he made his appearance, but I would not trade one second of it, despite what I may sometimes think/say. He has made my life so much better and I am looking forward to many more birthdays with him.

Day Off

I am writing this today at the library, and I know all of their computer stuff is different from what I normally use. Therefore, I am not quite sure what this will actually look like when it is posted.

Why am I using someone else's stuff today? Well, lucky me is off work today. Yesterday was only a half day because of parent/teacher conferences. When we have those, the next day, we are off. Wish we had them once a month!

When I left work yesterday, I took The Boy home and we got us something to eat and then headed into town for his weekly appointment. Once that was over, it was back to the school for his conference. He did excellent. He got six A's and one A-. I have to put it like that or he corrects me! Personally, I just say he got all A's. I am really proud of him.

This morning I got to sleep an hour later than I normally do. Wish I could have slept more, but we had things to do. Sinatra and Ziggy both had their yearly vet appointments this morning at 9:30. It is a 30 minute drive to the vet's office, and The Boy decided he wanted cinnamon rolls before we left.

Around 8:30 or so, my mom called to let me know that the creek was out and my dad said that I should plan on being out of the house by noon if I wanted to get out this weekend. And I definitely want to get out this weekend!

I just read what I typed and it doesn't make a lot of sense to anyone but me so let me clarify. The picture at the top of this page is what I see when I look out the door of my house. When it rains a lot in a short amount of time, there is some flash flooding. This means that all the ditches are full and parts of the road are covered and I am not going to drive myself through that water. When it rains a lot over time, there is a creek that is less than a mile from my house. It decides to get out of it's banks and flood not only the roads but the fields. And that includes the one that you see in the picture. When that floods, there is no way to get in or out. Therefore, I am stranded until the water decides to go back down.

Today, on the way to the vet, the ditches were full and the creek was out in a couple of places. The roads were not covered at all. However, when I came back through and hour and a half later, the water was higher and there was water covering about a quarter of one of the roads. When I left my house about 30 minutes after that, the road was about 3/4 covered. Now mind you, it wasn't terribly deep, but I refuse to drive through any of it no matter how deep if it is moving at all. So, it was probably a good thing I left when I did.

This is the weekend that The Boy is with his father. Crazy Man and I are planning on heading to Nashville. They have a great big flea market there once a month with October being the biggest of them all. My parents and my mom-in-law are also going with us. Crazy Man has a sister that lives down there, so we will all be staying with her. The worst part is the fact that we are leaving after everyone gets off work today and then coming home tomorrow evening. I would rather wait until Sunday to come home, but others have to be home before then.

Sunday is The Boy's birthday. He will be 15 and I have decided that I am not old enough for that to happen! When he is dropped off on Sunday afternoon, we will have cake and ice cream at my grandparent's house to celebrate. He tells me that his father is supposed to take him (along with 2 stepbrothers and a stepmom) to St. Louis to celebrate all three of the boys' birthdays. The other two had birthdays in September if I am remembering correctly.

Last Sunday, we celebrated part of The Boy's birthday by going out to eat. I will try to post pictures early next week of all the celebrating we did.

Until then, I am outta here. Gotta make sure everything is ready to go, plus The Boy is hungry, so need to go feed him some dinner.

Yuck!

I got home on Tuesday afternoon after having spent a really hectic day at work. I just wanted to put my feet up for a few minutes before I start doing some laundry. I go inside and change out of my work clothes and into an old comfy pair of flannel pants and a long-sleeve shirt.

I take the Step-Dog outside to do his business after having been cooped up all day. I used to be able to let him out and then when he was done doing his thing, he would come right back to the door and wait for me to let him in. Since spending time with his grandparents, (my in-laws) he has decided that he doesn't have to listen at home. (Happens with kids, why not animals, right?!) Usually, by putting him on the leash several times in a row reminds him that in this house we have rules and he needs to abide by them. For whatever reason, I did not put his leash on this time.

So, the dog is out doing his thing while I am talking on the phone to Crazy Man. I am watching him wander around the yard when he stops and sniffs at something and then jumps back.

Not uncommon. I figure he has found a frog or a cricket or a leaf or something. I holler at him when he sniffs and jumps for the third time. This time, something pops up and all I see is white.

I take a couple steps toward him when my mind kicks in and lets me know that the white I am seeing is a snake. I have no idea what kind of snake other than a live one and I am not keen on that fact.

I have always been told that the inside of a cotton mouth's mouth is white (makes sense) and that they open it to show off and try to frighten whoever startled them away. Now, whether this is true or not, I don't know nor do I care. What I do know and care about is the fact that I don't like snakes not one little bit and if it is a cotton mouth, they are poisonous and will kill the step-dog in one quick strike.

I call the dog away from it and he comes running while I am also running to the house to get....a gun. Not a big rifle like you would think a country girl would have. Nope. A handgun. A pistol. A 38 to be exact.

The Boy comes quick when I call for him and we get back outside to find the icky thing. Crazy Man is still on the phone and he keeps asking me what kind of snake it is (like I care!) and where his dog is.

I get the gun and head toward where the critter was when I last saw him. Believe it or not, he is still there. I am going to assume that it was cool enough that he was not his quick moving self, or he would have already been gone. Either that or he didn't think that I knew how to shoot this gun that I have in my hand. Or maybe he was suicidal and was hoping that I did know how to use it.

I was not getting to within 20 feet of the thing, so I take a shot. Matter of fact, I take 5 shots. I told you....I do not like snakes! After I had done all the damage I could do, I told Crazy Man that his job was to come home and get the thing out of my yard. He just laughed and said he would do so.

At this point, I go inside to put the gun away and to get the dog a treat. He doesn't come when I call him. I call and call and no little dog. So, I go back outside and call and call and still no little dog. I look in the garage and under the beds and everywhere I can think of and no little dog. The car door is open, so I check inside the car and don't see him there either. I even look back over to where the dead snake is to make sure I didn't shoot the dog!

After about 15 minutes, I start my search all over again with a flashlight so I can look in all the dark areas that I may have missed. I can not find this silly dog. I open the car door to look one last time and I sweep through with my flashlight. There he is. All curled up in a ball on the front passenger floorboard shaking like a leaf! Poor silly dog thought I was gonna shoot him I guess.

A couple hours later, Crazy Man got home and we went over to look at the damage that I caused. I took my camera also so that I could take a few photos. I was still several feet away and using the heck out of the camera's zoom. After I had taken several shots of it, Crazy man says "are you sure it is dead?" and nudges it with his foot.

That nearly in half, supposedly dead snake raises his head up! The thing was still alive! Crazy Man jumped and I screamed. Crazy Man finally, definitely, killed the thing.

What kind was it? Who cares. It was a live snake. And I don't like them. At all. Period. Would you want this thing looking at you?

Fair Pictures

When the fair was in town (well, not my town, but the closest town) I decided to enter some pictures for judging. This post is about those pictures. Hope you like them as much as I do!

I also have to say that I did nothing to touch up these photos. They are just like they were taken. Well, almost. I admit that I did zoom in on a couple of them when I made them into an 8x10. But other than that, they are just like I took them.

I am not a big photographer, just someone who likes to take pictures. I have been really lucky with some of my shots. A lot of them are what I like to call Holy Cow Pictures. The type that you get them home and see them as a print or on your computer for the first time and say "holy cow...that is a cool picture!"

I entered this one in the Wedding category, but I think they wanted a picture with people instead. I love this picture even if it didn't win anything. This is my engagement ring and Crazy Man's wedding band.

This one didn't win anything in the Child Category. I had it matted against black so the color really popped out at you. We gave it to the boy's mom.

This one was entered under the Animal category. My parents have a hummingbird feeder on their porch and they have at least 8 hummingbirds that frequent it. I decided one day that I was going to get some pictures of them. I stood outside snapping pictures for at least 30 minutes and had decided that one more and I was done. This picture is the very last shot I took. Talk about holy cow! It didn't win anything either. However, my grandmother loves it and will probably be receiving it for a Christmas gift! But don't tell her because I want her to be surprised!

This one was entered under Nature. I know it kind of looks like I may have played with the colors, but I promise you, this is what the day looked like. Kind of that funky greenish color that comes when there is a nasty storm around. (And there was a bad storm that day. Matter of fact, it took me a day to dry out from being in the midst of it. All for a good cause though.) I took this while riding on the back of the motorcycle while we were doing a Patriot Guard ride. This is Jefferson Barracks. This shot didn't win anything either.

This picture was entered under the category of Action. Believe it or not, I was in the very last row of the stadium. Yes, the very tippy tippy top last row of the stadium!

I went with my husband and some friends to see the Moving Wall (the scaled down version of the Vietnam Memorial Wall) when it was close by. I saw this man that was knelt down in front of the wall. I don't know what it is that caught my eye, but I am glad it did. I saw him and it brought tears to my eyes. He was in his own world of memories and nothing that I saw was going to bring him out of it until he was ready. There were people walking and talking all around him and he never moved. For the hour that I was there, he was in this same position. I don't know how the man managed to get up and walk away. I snapped his picture because the scene moved me. When I got home and looked at the pictures, this is what I saw. It still brings tears to my eyes. The judge at the fair gave me a second place ribbon for this picture. The lady who was in charge there (but didn't judge) told me that I was cheated. I didn't/don't care if it wins anything. I just want others to see what I see when they look at it.

This is another one of those "holy cow" type shots. I entered this one in the Group category. It was taken while I was riding on the back of our motorcycle during a Patriot Guard ride. They guys were on top of an overpass saluting as we were escorting a soldier to his final resting place. It won a first place ribbon at the fair.

This picture was entered into the Black And White Other category. When we went to the Moving Wall Memorial, they also brought along big display cases with dog tags of all the soldiers that have been killed in Iraq and Afghanistan. They are not covered by glass, so anyone who wants to get a rubbing or touch them or take pictures of them are able to do so. I decided that I wanted to take a picture of the tags of those that I had ridden in a Patriot Guard escort for. This name also means a lot to many people I know. He was local to my area and one of my best friends served with him and was good friends with him. The day I took this picture, it was so bright and sunny outside, that I could not really tell what I was taking the picture of. You know how you look at your digital camera screen to make sure you got what you want? Well, I couldn't see what it was showing! So, I just had to snap away and take what I got. When I got home, this is the picture that I saw. I thought it was beautiful. It was matted with a black mat and frame and it won a first place ribbon. I have since given it to a restaurant that he was always at and where everyone loved the man.

I am planning on entering more photos next year. Hopefully I will get some more that I like as much as these.

Sick Sick Sick

The plan for today is to keep my head above water. Yesterday, was just total chaos. Organized though it may be, it was still chaos. I sent probably 10 kids home with fever yesterday. I had a kid in my office from 7:50am until 3:10pm. And school hours are 8am until 3pm! I was out of my office, I know, less than 10 minutes all day long. I didn't get to fix anything to eat and bring it back to my desk until close to 1pm. And I am normally able to attempt to eat around 11:30 or so.

Hopefully, today will be better. I have heard that we have about 34 kids gone at the elementary and at least 10 at the high school. Mind you, I know that 4 of these kids are not sick, they have moved and we are just waiting until a transcript request has been received until we can drop them from the roll. I think the superintendent is looking at the numbers and trying to decide if he should close or not. I am hoping that we don't make the numbers and can stay open.

Yes, I would like to have the next couple days off, but I really don't want to have to make them up later. Besides that, we get out at noon on Thursday and are off Friday anyway because of parent/teacher conferences. And, the health department is supposed to be coming tomorrow afternoon to give the H1N1 vaccine to some of the kids.

My Little Little Brother is one of the ones sick at the high school. He left school yesterday and my mom took him to the doc. I told her that he needed to be checked for flu, strep and mono. His flu swab came back negative, as did the strep. However, the Physician Assistant who saw him (I am assuming she saw him because the doc was too busy) refused to have him tested for mono because "I don't want to put him through that."

Let me get this straight. You just shoved a giant q-tip up his nose nearly touching his brain to swab for the flu. And you gagged him to nearly the point of puking to swab for strep. But you don't want to put him through a quick stick for a vial of blood. Please. He is nearly 17 years old. I am certain he would rather have the blood drawn than the brain swab you just did.

So, he is still home not feeling well today. I am keeping my fingers crossed that The Boy continues on the path of good health. As for me and my Crazy Man....we are both attempting to stay healthy also. If anyone gets this stuff, I would assume it would be me since I am in constant contact with it all. And, I have not been able to find myself a flu shot.

When I sneezed this morning after getting to work, I was told that I am a mom and a nurse, so that is two reasons that I am not allowed to be sick. I didn't realize that was in the job description, but now that I think about it, I guess it is. After all, who is going to take care of me if I get sick?!

Not Me Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

If I were the type who kept track of things that I did not do, I would definitely tell you about them. But, since I just totally ignore things like that, then what do I have to tell you about on Not Me Monday?

I mean, I really did not take my nearly 15 year old son to see the 3D version of Toy Story and Toy Story 2 over the weekend. And of course we did not really enjoy it. Matter of fact, I did not jump up and down with excitement when he mentioned that he would really like to go and see it. And I did not find myself sitting in the last row of the theater laughing the entire time. We also did not skip our noon meal to gorge ourselves on the refillable popcorn and soda. That would just be wrong and I really would never teach my son such bad nutritional things like that.

And, since it is Not Me Monday, I would also confess if I let The Boy pick out a pumpkin, but asked him to get a smaller one than what he wanted. I would confess if the one he wanted was the $18 one, but I talked him down to a much cheaper one since he wants to take it to school and carve the Halo 3 logo into it. I would also confess if I bought a pumpkin carving kit even though I think that I have one at home, but didn't want to go hunting for it. I would confess those things if they had happened, but since they did not, then I guess you won't know about them.

I would tell you if I had finally decided what to get The Boy for his birthday, but when I placed the order, I was told it wouldn't be in until the day after his birthday. I would tell you if that had happened, but since I did not do that, I can't tell you.

I did not sit out in the cold air of a local restaurant's parking lot in front of the hospital just to get a picture (ok...several pictures) of the billboard that has a message of my friend's granddaughters birth.

And, I did not cry while watching Extreme Home Makeover last night.

I did not look at the cashier funny when she asked me if I had a cat named Ziggy and if he was doing all right after I gave her money to pay for my meal at the restaurant. How did she know that?!

Last but not least, I would let you know on this Not Me Monday if I was truly wracking my brain to come up with anything that I could talk about here. Or, that didn't make me look like I was lame and boring. But since that is not happening, I guess I won't tell you.

The Boy Has Been Shot

On Wednesday I was able to track down a dose of the seasonal flu vaccine for The Boy. I was not able to get one for me though, even though I am considered to be high risk.

I did not tell him that I was able to get this for him. Terrible, huh?! If I had told him, then he would have just had hours to think about it and worry and get himself worked into a lather. Therefore, it was easier not to tell him until it was time.

I asked him if he wanted it before we ate supper with the grandparents or if he wanted to wait until we got home. He decided "never." When I reminded him that option was not on the table, he decided to wait until we got home.

Now, I have to remind you that my Crazy Man has heard the descriptions of how The Boy reacts to things like dentist appointments or shots or whatever, but he has never actually witnessed this. So, like most people, he thinks that The Boy is just being unreasonable and that I am 'babying' him. Wednesday night he witnessed first hand what The Boy and I go through.

I told The Boy that it was time. I gave him some ibuprofen (because I promised that would make it hurt less) and then drew up the vaccine. He was already in tears, but he pulled up the sleeve on his left arm. (He got to choose where he wanted it....arm or leg.) I began to flick and slap his arm (to help make it tingle and kind of numb it). He is looking at Crazy Man (who is looking at us like we are a train wreck!) and still crying. I gave him the shot quickly and it was over. No blood. Vaccine in, antibodies beginning to form in his body!

Now, I say that it was over. Not really. Because The Boy just drops his head to my shoulder (remember he is several inches taller than me) and just boo-hoos. I get him to calm down after a few minutes. He asks if he could have a band-aid. I tell him that he can, but first he needs to go take a nice warm shower and then I would put the band-aid on.

He takes his shower and then comes to me with his sleeve up wanting his band-aid. We laugh about it being a Daffy Duck band-aid and I hunt for the spot I poked him. Not finding it (but not telling him that) I stuck that band-aid on and gave him a hug and kiss. I asked if that helped and he nodded and off to his room he went to watch TV before bed.

I could just cry writing that. Why? Because a band-aid after a shot made my nearly 15 year old son feel all better. That is only supposed to work with little kids.

It is things like that that remind me that even though he is chronologically old enough to get his learner's permit to drive, and is soooo much smarter than I will ever be, that emotionally, he is only about 7 or 8 years old. And, the fact is, he may not ever get any older in that sense.

Crazy Man saw all of this. I think he finally understands when I come home physically, and emotionally exhausted from a dentist appointment with The Boy. Of course, he didn't immediately offer to take him the next time!

After the band-aid, there was nothing more said about the shot. And there won't be until the next shot is due. Or until he actually gets the flu this year and reminds me that the shot didn't work!

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As you can see by the new little button I added on the left, I have joined the Secret Santa Soiree. I found this somewhere (sorry, I would tell you exactly where, but I honestly don't remember!) and clicked to see what it was all about. I discovered that what happens is that if I joined, I would get information about someone out there in the wide world of blogging, read all about them, then shop for them for Christmas. In doing so, someone else out there would be doing the same for me. Sounds like fun, huh?! I thought so. I love giving things that are totally unexpected.

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I have to go have my picture made shortly. I wasn't able to get it done on the day they had school pictures, so today is re-take day and they got me all signed up. Goody goody! I am so excited! *how does sarcasm look on me?!*

I hate having my picture made. I guess The Boy comes by it honestly.

The Boy has joined FBLA at school. I am proud! I told him that he had to join at least one club at school for the social aspect of it. He decided on FBLA. He is the only Freshman in the club! He has gotten a t-shirt that shows he is a member and has already had his first fund-raiser of selling some candy. He sold all of that very quickly. Today, he gets his first ever Club Picture made! Yaaay! I am hoping that he will stick with this club and make friends.

Speaking of friends, he has asked if he can invite a couple of boys in his class over to the house so they can all play video games. Playing video games is not the kind of thing that most parents want there kids to do all the time, but if this is how he can socially interact, then I am all for it.

The problem comes in with finding the day to do it. Since he is only with me every other weekend, it becomes difficult finding the right day. Especially this time of year. He is with me this weekend, but he didn't decide he wanted to invite these guys for sure until this week. The next weekend is his birthday and that would be the perfect time....except he is not with me. The following weekend is Halloween and he doesn't think that would be a good day. The next weekend he is with his father and the one after that is my Little Little Brother's birthday. But, I think we are going to schedule it for then. That gives The Boy plenty of time to prepare. Now all we have to do is keep our fingers crossed that those who are invited will come.

Ok, this feels like it has been a long post. Probably has! Seems like once I am able to actually sit down and start to type, I have a lot of things on my mind. Most of them are random thoughts, but, at least I have a place where I can talk and say what I want to say. Guess that this is better than talking out loud to myself anyway! At least people don't look at me like I am a total lunatic.

Or at least not people that I can see looking at me that way!

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance

Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. Most people don't know this. To be totally honest, I knew that there was a day, but didn't know the exact date. Kind of odd to say that since it is so near and dear to my heart. But I guess that I don't really need to set aside a specific day on the calendar to remember.

See, I have lost 4 pregnancies. The first time I had a miscarriage, I didn't even know I was pregnant until I was losing it. I had all of 30 seconds to celebrate the fact that I was pregnant until the doc told me "but I think you are having a miscarriage." I was in North Carolina with my 19 month old son. Miles and hours away from family. My husband was on assignment and away from home. I remember calling my mom and telling her that I was pregnant, but that the doc thought I may be having a miscarriage and that more blood work would be drawn in about 3 days to know for certain. I remember telling her that I really wanted this baby. I can remember saying that I would go on bedrest from that moment on if I could just have a healthy baby. And then I remember her telling me that I was being selfish for being willing to do that.

The second time, I had been trying for a while to get pregnant. I lost that one in April, about 3 days after I had a positive blood test to confirm my suspicions of pregnancy. It didn't hurt any less than the first time.

The third time, I had been going through so many fertility treatments to get me pregnant. I had all the signs and symptoms and the home test showed that I was pregnant. I called the fertility clinic office (which was 2 hours away) and told them. They wanted me to wait until after the holiday. They said "if you are definitely pregnant, then waiting another few days until after Christmas will not be a problem." On Christmas Eve, I woke up and knew I had lost another pregnancy. I remember finding myself curled up on the kitchen floor crying over that loss. I don't remember anything else about that Christmas.

The following May, I lost another pregnancy. (This is kind of graphic, so skip this part if it makes you upset.) I got up early one morning with lower abdominal pain. When I went to the bathroom and wiped, I passed what looked like a very large blood clot. When I called my doctor's office, the nurse there laughed. She then went on to say that it was quite probable that I had had a miscarriage.

It is kind of odd the things you remember in a traumatic situation, huh? I decided after my first loss that I would not tell anyone anything if I ever got pregnant again until I was actually needing maternity clothes. Matter of fact, my mom didn't know until several years had passed that I had lost three more pregnancies besides the one she knew about. She just thought that I was having trouble getting pregnant.

The docs all tell you that it gets easier with time. I don't know if I believe that or not. I can say that I don't think about these losses continuously on a daily basis, but when someone asks how many kids I have or when June rolls around, or when a teenager is pregnant and doesn't want it, or when I am invited to a baby shower, it definitely isn't easy. It feels new and raw and angry all over again.

When I was working in Labor and Delivery and we had moms come in whose baby was not going to live or whose baby had already died, the nurses didn't want to take care of her. Honestly, neither did I. But I always volunteered to do so. Why? The way I see it is this: This is a very hurtful and traumatic situation. They are going to remember this moment for the rest of their lives with pain. Maybe, if I am there to help ease this pain for just a few minutes, maybe it won't hurt so much to look back on. Maybe I can be the one bright spot in a dark day. Maybe they can look back and say, "you know...there was this nurse who cried with me that day...and it helped to know that someone else was just as sad for my loss."

That, I think, really is what most moms want...to know that someone else remembers her child.

Wondering

I have been wondering....

....is it as difficult to find the seasonal flu vaccine in other areas as it is to find one available here? The local health department has a few of the Flu-Mist left and even fewer of the injection vaccine left. From what I am hearing from other staff and parents is that even the doctor offices don't have any, or if they do, then they have very few also. I finally tracked down a dose for The Boy and will be picking that up later this afternoon to give it to him. Although, I am now wondering if it is already too late to give it to him.

....are you going to get the H1N1 vaccine when it becomes available in your area? And, are you planning on giving it to your kids? What are your reasons to give or not to give?

....is the flu (either kind) hitting other areas as hard as it seems to be hitting this area? We have been lucky (knock on wood) that we have not had a lot of kids out with the flu. However, we have had them out with strep. And we have one out that was treated for strep but they are now saying it may be mono. I sent 3 home this morning before lunchtime who were sick. Keeping my eye on two more that do not feel/look very good, but nothing specific that I can make a parent come pick the kid up.

....will I make it all the way to where I need to make it to without running out of gas?! The fuel level shows almost on the "E" and I still have to take The Boy to his appointment, go pick up his vaccine, go back to pick him up and then find a gas station. I am keeping my fingers crossed!

....how do I go about picking the winning lottery numbers so that I don't have to work unless I want to work?!

Those are just a few of the things that I am wondering about right now!

Complaining

I know, I know. I didn't make an appearance here at all last week. I had a meeting last Monday. That just threw the rest of the week off. And, just so you know, I am going to complain. If you don't want to hear it, don't continue. If you like looking at wrecks, keep reading.

Yesterday was my Big Little Brother's birthday. Usually we get together as a family for birthdays at my grandparent's house. We eat and open gifts and have cake together. But, we also plan for this to happen at least a week in advance so that everyone knows about it. This year, I was informed just a couple hours before the event was taking place. I know that I should have been aware since it happens every year, right. Well, there are times that we rearrange the schedule so that everyone can be there. (That is where the week advance notice comes in.)

Anyway.....I haven't been on speaking terms with my Big Little Brother since the end of June. And, the speaking terms with my parents have dwindled to very little. All because I found out something about my brother that could have pretty bad consequences for him and the rest of the family. And I brought it to my parent's attention in the hopes of keeping everyone safe.

That is where I made the mistake I guess. My mom decided that my brother was telling her the truth and I was making it all up even though I have the proof. My brother discovered that I was the one who found out and made threats against me. Telling me that if he got into trouble then I was the one who ruined his life. Not him. Not the one who did the wrong thing, but me, the one who found out.

Therefore, I officially lost my place in the family. Not that it matters since my place in the family has always been on the outskirts. I am not treated anything at all like either of my brothers, always being held to a higher standard than they are.

I know it sounds like I am complaining. Yeah, well, maybe I am. I just hate feeling like an orphan when both of my parents and both of my siblings are alive and well. But when my mom tells me that she has to believe my brothers because they are her boys and she loves them but neglects to acknowledge that I am her daughter and she loves me too.....yeah....I am going to complain and feel hurt.

Granted, I would never say that to her. Why not? Duh. Did you not read that more is expected of me? If I complained about how I feel, it would somehow turn out to be my fault because that is 'stupid' to feel that way. Or I would be told that I brought it on myself because I 'make things up' about my brothers.

So, it was not a very fun party. I didn't take a gift. I didn't actually hold a conversation with my brother because I am still hurt/mad/scared. I didn't have a good time at all. Can you imagine what Christmas is going to be like?!

All because I was trying to keep everyone safe. I know I did nothing wrong. But why am I the one who is being treated like the criminal?

City Slicker and Country Girl

It is finally Friday! I think that if this was any day other than Friday I would cry. I am done with being at work this week. I need a day off.

Tomorrow I may actually get that day off. The Crazy Man doesn't really like the idea of my wanting to stay home and do what I want/need to do there. He says that "I only have the weekend" so he wants to do other stuff.

I understand that he only has the weekend. Me too. I think sometimes he forgets that I have a job too. Or maybe it is that he thinks that since I am able to come home every night that there is no reason for me to want to stay there on the weekend. I don't know. I guess he doesn't realize that when I come home at night, I have to do all the things that a mom/wife does plus some of the things that a dad/husband does. So, when it gets to be the weekend, I would like to just stay at home and do nothing. Or to do those things that I am just too tired to do when I get home in the evenings.

Crazy Man doesn't like the idea of me doing this. Last night he told me that it would be fine and that he could take The Boy and go to the other house to work on the shed. No problem. Except he has been talking about this shed for months. I guess maybe it is the same type of thing. He has the weekend, wants to work on this shed, but plans for other things to do during the only time he has at home.

Before I go further, let me clarify. We have two houses. In this economy?! Yes. When we got married, all of our stuff came with us to the marriage, which is what is supposed to happen. But all of our stuff included the house that each of us had bought on our own and had been living in. Because of the economy, there is no way that either of us could ever sell our house. Therefore, we have two of them. This is handy when, like last year, we had a major ice storm and could not get to the house in the sticks. Or when it floods and we can't get to the house in the sticks. Or when the power is out at one. Or when we have something going on in town that would make it really late getting to the country.

The houses are separated by about 25 miles. His/Ours is in town and mine/ours is in the country. We stay during the week at the Country Villa so that The Boy and I are closer to work/school. The City House is usually where we stay on Friday and Saturdays. This way we can get groceries and eat dinner with his parents on Sunday.

So, he wants to do work on the shed at the City House this weekend. That is fine by me. But, he doesn't want me to stay at the Country Villa to do what needs to be done there. I think he would rather we try to sell that house and just live in town. He doesn't like driving back and forth to town. Basically he is a city slicker!

I grew up in the country and really don't like living in town where people are so close. He grew up in town and doesn't see any reason at all as to why someone would want to live so far away from things. I grew up knowing that what we had in the fridge was what we chose from. He grew up knowing that if there wasn't anything in the fridge you wanted, you could either call someone to bring you something or you could go to the store down the street and get something different.

Our worlds are totally different. Not quite sure how we are expected to get along when our backgrounds totally collide like this. But we do. Although sometimes it gets a little rough when we both need time off to do things we think need to be done around the houses and we don't want to be apart to do them. I know....work together to get them done. That would be wonderful....in theory.

But let me ask this: How many women out there want their man to go through their 'all-purpose' (aka junk) drawer and clean it out? Probably not many! Or, how many men want their woman to go through their shed/garage/man room to clean it out? The whole thing is that we each know what is important to us to keep and what is not. Having someone else come in to "help" isn't always the best option.

So, I think this Country Girl will send her City Slicker husband to clean out his shed and tear it down while she is cleaning out her 'all-purpose' room. And, we will probably both get done a lot quicker than if the other was 'helping'. I am almost certain that it will easier on the marriage that way!

Still Waiting on That Deep Breath

I am still waiting for that minute of time where I can take a deep breath and just breathe! Guess I can get that later, huh?!

Yesterday I went to a mandatory meeting in which all program managers are required to attend to discuss our contract with the state. (I guess since they are the ones paying my salary I will do as I am told and attend!) Anyway, I did learn a few things of which I was not aware.

One was the fact that we evidently have an amazingly awesome janitor. How do I know this? Well, apparently there are tons of flu cases surrounding us, but none have made it into our school. I know that now that I say that, we will probably be having to close the doors for several days soon. I also learned that I am not the only one that has had to cancel their flu shot clinic because of no vaccine available from the local health department. And, I am not the only one who is curious as to why this is. Supposedly we will still be able to get the flu shots as soon as they get more, but they don't think that will be until the end of October or the beginning of November. Oh well. All we can do is wait and see what happens.

I also learned that I am not the only one who is feeling like I am so far behind that I have lapped myself. It seems that most of the ones that I talked to/heard from yesterday are feeling the same stress.

On a positive note, my friend's grandbaby has not only been released from NICU, but has also been released from the hospital period! This is a great thing! I tried to call last night, but didn't get a response, so can only assume that things are going well at home. I will talk to her and find out if it is ok to post a pic of the baby. I got a couple of really sweet pictures!

Now to The Boy. Yesterday he came home and told me that he had a test today in American History. But, he had not brought his book or anything else home to study. How does that happen?! He knows he has a test, but nothing to study by. I asked how he did on his recent Biology exam. He told me that he had gotten a "79 I think" on it. He wasn't very happy with that grade.

How did I feel about the grade? Well, let me explain my whole approach to grades. I don't care. Sounds callous, huh? Well, not really. What I don't care about is the actual grade itself. Don't get me wrong. I want my child to do well and to succeed in school. However, I don't care what the actual grade is. My thought is that if he has a 22% or a 102% as long as he worked hard and did the very best that he could do, I am happy. I want him to be happy with the grades he receives. Therefore, the grade is not what is important.

Now, am I happy with this grade. Nope. Why not? Because he did not do the best he could possibly do. I know this because he did not study. He did not one time bring home a book to open and just even fake that he was studying for the test! He is not happy with his grade, therefore I am not happy with his grade.

After having a looooong talk together, I think I have figured out part of the problem. He has a planner in which he is to write down his assignments/tests/etc. However, he has yet to do this. He tells me that he could write it down when he has a test, but unless he remembers to look at it, he would not bring home the stuff to study. He then goes on to say "this is all so hard. It is like I have a test in something almost everyday. Sometimes more than one test in a day." That comment is where I am taking my cue. I think he is becoming overwhelmed with all that is required of him.

Maybe I am wrong?? Anyone out there with a thought? I want to talk to his LD teacher, but she is gone today for a meeting, and is supposed to be back tomorrow. I just don't know what to do about it all.

I got his mid-quarter grades a week or two ago and he had an "A" in all subjects, but when he stresses about a 79% and he has not been studying for his tests, I am wondering just what is going on and if there is any thing else I should be doing.

I know to most parents that sounds really stupid. I am aware that most parents would be thrilled to see their child's report card that lists all A's. Especially if they could say their kid got those grades without studying. But for a child who doesn't study because he "forgets" and who did not have this type of problem at all until this school year, I am a little concerned.

Maybe I shouldn't be. But I am. And since I am his parent, I guess I have that right.

Not Me Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

I did not wish that I could have just one day (even a half day) to do absolutely nothing that I really didn't want to do. I have been to town (20 miles one way) every single day since September 15th. I wouldn't wish this because I love my family and therefore wish to spend every single minute of my waking hours fulfilling their needs. If I wished for a day to do nothing then I would be selfish and that is just not me.

I did not spend most of Wednesday night awake calling and checking on my friend's daughter who was in the hospital being induced.

I did not stay in the delivery room on Thursday with above mentioned daughter to help welcome her daughter into the world. Her mom and I did not stand in the middle of the delivery room when everyone was cleaned up and doing well hugging each other and crying.

I did not drive home Thursday night crying the entire way because I was happy and sad. I did not walk into our counselor's office on Friday afternoon and ask her if I was normal for crying everytime I thought about the delivery. (I did not just get teary eyed typing those sentences because it all comes back.)

I did not get up yesterday wishing (once again) that I could just skip the day's doings because I was (am) still needing that day off. I would never have done that because we went on a Poker Run for the Shriner's Hospital which is an organization that is near and dear to our hearts. Therefore, I would never in a million years wish to not participate.

I did not ponder whether I wanted to fill out an application to go back to work in the hospital doing labor and delivery. I did not grab my (up to date) resume so that I would have the correct information when I did not complete the application.

I did not tell The Boy this morning that if he did not lose the attitude that he seems to have on Sunday afternoon and Monday mornings after spending his weekend with his father that I would do my best to stop him from going. I know. I can't do that. But geez.....when he is rude and obnoxious to me both on the phone and in person it just rubs me the wrong way.


I know that there are a bunch more things that could be posted here. Unfortunately, I am mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted. For that reason, I can only think of so much right now. And, they are certainly not nearly as funny as a lot of people. Actually, reading over them, they sound kind of sad, huh?

The Time Has Come

In a previous post, I wrote about my and Crazy Man's wedding. When I wrote that, I didn't have any of the pictures with me that I could add, so I said that I would post some of them later.

Well, it is later! I just chose a few that kind of gave an idea of how our evening went. It was great fun, but at this time, we really don't want to do it again!

The pics I chose were taken by either one of the two guys that worked at the Harley Dealership or by my uncle or (like the very first one) by myself.

The sign that the owners put on the door for our wedding.

My Crazy Man turning to ride down the aisle. His one request for our wedding when we were planning it was that he wanted to ride his bike down the aisle. Until I convinced him to ask the owners of the local Harley dealership if we could get married there, he was not going to get his wish.

This picture is so you can kind of see just how many people were there and the type of place this actually was. That is The Boy next to me where he had walked me down the aisle. Just behind him are my parents.

Our Preacher. He is not a biker, but he is a very good sport!

The sucker ring!

It is almost like he is wondering just what else can happen?!

Riding back down the aisle as a married couple.

Our wedding party.

This is our wedding cake. My mother in law decided at the last minute that we needed an actual cake to cut. We had lots of cupcakes, but she wanted there to be a traditional cake also. Mind you, traditional only applies to the cake, not the topper!

This is the photo that was put in the newspaper to announce our wedding.

And we live happily ever after, forever and always!

Not Me Monday!

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

I did not laugh when my 3 year old cousin said the following things:

"Where did he go? Did he pissedappear?" (I am hoping he meant disappear!)

"I have to go get erections!" (I am seriously hoping he meant directions!)

While we were sitting at the supper table and he was told by his mom that he would not be allowed to go to the fair to ride the rides if he did not eat, I most certainly did not have to choke back laughter when the following conversation took place:

3 year old: "Granddad, I need you."

Granddad: "You need me? Why?"

3 year old: "I need you to let me go to the fair."

I would never laugh at a 3 year old attempting to get out of trouble. Nope. That would just encourage the practice.

I did not see someone in our local parade that I hadn't seen in years, holler her name and run out into the middle of the street hugging and laughing with her! And, she is definitely not a well known name in town!

I did not hope that it would rain on Friday afternoon so that I didn't have to mow. (I got it mowed!)

I did not attempt to make a Butterscotch Caramel Cheesecake for the very first time, all the way from scratch and then take it to my Crazy Man's family reunion on Sunday. And, I did not take home an empty cheesecake plate!

I did not make a calendar of the upcoming new shows starting tonight so that I would know what channels and times they came on in the hopes of not missing any that looked interesting. I know that would be silly and make me look as though all I do in my free time is watch TV, so there is absolutely no way that I could possibly have done this.

These were just some of the things that I absolutely did not do last week! I did not do so many things that I have started to keep a list of them so I can therapeutically come clean on Mondays!

True Story Tuesday

Thought I would try something different today. Found this over on another blog called Once Upon A Miracle. She called it True Story Tuesday and it seems you are supposed "to tell the story of anything amazing, hilarious, outrageous or miraculous (and TRUE) that has happened to you."

So, since I always say that I could have my own reality comedy show if someone would just follow me around with cameras all day everyday, I thought this may just be fun.

Gosh, there are so many things that I don't know where to start! How about this one:

When The Boy was about 5 years old, I worked for a hospital under a grant program in which I went into the homes of first time low income moms. I would follow along with them, meeting once every couple of weeks with them throughout the pregnancy and until their baby turned 2 years old. I had 25 different girls that I was following along with their babies. Because we taught sooooo much stuff to them, we had to have a lot of different teaching materials.

One of the items that I carried with me was a giant board book that showed the true sizes of a fetus while growing inside it's mom. Along the edges of the pictures, there was all sorts of information to talk to the mom about. On the last page of the book, it showed a drawing of a mom who was breastfeeding her newborn.

Because I was away at a meeting one day, my parents picked up The Boy after school and brought him home with them using my car. Of course, that book was in my car and of course, The Boy loved to look at it.

Evidently, The Boy asked his grandma just what the mom on the last page was doing. My mom told him that "she is feeding her baby."

The Boy asked if she was feeding the baby milk from her boobies.

My mom answered that yes she was.

The Boy thinks about this. After about 10 minutes, he says to her, "My Aunt Michelle could feed her new baby like that, right?"

Again, my mom answers yes.

The Boy thinks on this bit of info and decides that "if my mom has a baby, she could do that too. But my mom can't drink milk, so one boobie would have milk and one would have Sprite."

My dad nearly ran off the road because he was trying not to laugh so hard. Luckily, they all made it safely home with a story to tell.

This is definitely a true story that we still talk about to this day. Not sure The Boy finds it nearly as amusing as the rest of us though!

Not Me Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by McMama at www.mycharmingkids.net. You can head over to www.mycharmingkids.net to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

It has been a while since I have joined in on the Not Me Mondays. I decided that today would be as good a day as any to jump back on board! Mind you, some of these things have happened before the past week. But this is the first chance I have gotten to 'speak' them out loud!

I did not cringe when I was told that the newest nurse hired for my other school was the daughter of the secretary who thinks she runs the school.

I did not do that before I even met the girl.

I did not roll my eyes and take a deep breath when talking on the phone to her I asked her if she was an RN and she said that she was and then when I asked what she did at the hospital she answered "I'm an RN." Yeah, you said that. But what do you do there? (Too hard of a question?!)

I did not call a group of high school boys "whiny babies" while they were standing in line for their turn at a dental screening and to get fluoride varnish put on their teeth. That would not be nice if I had done that, would it?

I did not openly cry at a funeral for someone that I did not know. Nor did I know anyone related to that person. (No, I didn't 'crash' the funeral. I was attending as a Patriot Guard Rider. And yes, it was the funeral procession that is making news in St. Louis.)

I did not enter 8 pictures in our local fair. I did not talk to the person accepting the entries to try to figure out which category two of the pics should be entered under and when she couldn't decide, she made up two new categories! I did not feel guilty that other people did not know about those categories before entering their items.

I was not forced to hold my tongue when a co-worker was required to tell something about her personal life that had nothing to do with her job.

I did not attend a baby shower for a really good friend's just turned 17 year old daughter and enjoyed myself. (It is really hard for me to go to a baby shower for anyone, but really difficult for a young girl.)

I did not sit here, write this post, look back at it to proof-read and decide that my life seems either really lame or I have just been able to block out all the silly stuff that has happened to me lately!

Thank You

Eight years ago today, I was supposed to be going to work at 7pm at the hospital in Labor and Delivery. I had been working at the hospital since July, but the unit was not yet opened. We had been working to get it to that point. This was to be my first night on duty in the newly opened unit.

That morning, I got up, walked The Boy to school (we basically lived in their backyard), and planned on going home to sleep so I could be awake that night. I was just laying down when I got a phone call telling me to turn on the news.

I watched as the second plane hit. And I cried.

I cried because I was scared. I cried because I was sad. I cried because I was mad. Did I go get my boy from school? No. Did I want to? Oh yeah! Would I go get him today if this had happened now instead of then? You bet. But for different reasons.

I would get him today because he is older and better able to ask questions that I want to be the one to answer. I would get him today because he has become more concerned with my welfare and safety and he would need to know that I am fine.

Today is a day for remembering and for thanking. We remember those who died on that day in NYC, at the Pentagon and in a Pennsylvania field. All of those who were just working at having a normal day. Those who saved others by fighting off terrorists in the sky and by sacrificing their well being, and who may also have saved many others that the plane was aimed for.

I feel that we should also remember those who have died since that day. Those soldiers who go out everyday and fight to give me the freedom to say what I want to say. Those who leave their families for months at a time to place themselves in harms way to hopefully keep us all from having to face another 9/11.

I want to tell not only those soldiers but their families, along with the soldiers who go over and not come back and their families this: My family and I thank you for your sacrifice.

IEP'd

I know...it has been a while since I have been here. I have been stupid busy and despite the fact of wanting to write here, I haven't had the opportunity to do so. Today, I decided to say "forget the rest, I need to do this."

First off, I guess we will see if my spaces are still gone. If so, I wish that whoever took them would kindly return them to me. The abilty to easily read what I type has been stolen along with those spaces between paragraphs/thoughts.

Next. Don't think I have written about what happened at The Boy's IEP meeting. Went to the high school at 2pm and left sometime after 3pm. Yes, the other portion of his DNA did show up. And that is where it all went downhill.

The LD teacher who is in charge of writing his IEP is also his Transitions teacher. We had spoken concerning some papers that were sent home for me to complete and return and we thought it may be a good idea if we could get his diagnosis changed. He has been receiving services for written expression. Nope! Not autism. She wanted to change his diagnosis to autism so that his goals in his IEP made more sense. She told everyone that was gathered (the special ed director for the district, his Language Arts classroom teacher, the counselor, the building principal, myself and his father) that since she is seeing The Boy and spending more time with him on a daily basis, that she is seeing several "odd" and "different" and "concerning" behaviors. She reitterated the fact that he was not a "bad" kid, and in fact was very polite and respectful, but that there were some actions that she had never noticed before and would be good to work on in the Transitions class.

We talked about what he would be learning in the class and that we hoped he would be able to continue the class for the rest of his high school career. We talked about the fact that he will be having 4 end of course exams and how and where he would be taking them. (I think that it was decided that he could leave the room and take the two that have a lot of writing on them, but the two that will be completely multiple choice, he will stay with the other kids.)

Well. His father decided to mention the fact that he "wants him treated just like all of the other kids in his class. If they have to take a test, then he has to take the same one." I have no argument about taking the tests. And, yes, I do want him to be treated like everyone else. However, if he needs accommodations (smaller groups of people/different room/longer time to complete) then he should receive those. His father did not agree. Matter of fact, it came to light that he had instructed The Boy that he did not need to leave the room to take any test unless others were also leaving the room. He had instructed him that it was "silly to do that". (This now explains the reason that The Boy would never leave the room, even though at times he wanted to. He didn't want his father to find out that he left the room.)

His father also voiced the fact that he and his wife "don't see the things that she says happens with him" and that "he just needs to learn how to cope with the problems that he faces everyday. If it is too loud or whatever, he needs to learn to cope with that. Everyone has bad days and he needs to figure out how to handle them." No ****! Of course he needs to learn to cope. What the crap does he think I have been taking him to see a counselor for once a week for the past 4-5 years?! And, duh! If he had any clue about his son's diagnosis, he would know that "learning to cope" is a difficult thing to deal with especially if it means his routine or expectations are interrupted.

Oh but wait. If he knew that about his diagnosis, then he would have to admit that there was/is a diagnosis. And that is where the root of the problem comes along. His father feels that I went "doctor shopping to find someone to give him a diagnosis so you could draw a check for him." Now, I want to get this straight and make sure that I make myself clear. I took my son to see a pediatric neurologist when he was 4 years old on the advice of his Early Childhood Special Education teacher. This is the doc who gave us the diagnosis. Did I shop? Nope. Did he know about the appointment? Yep. And was all for it I might add. And oh yeah, he was still married to me at the time. Did he ever see a check? Nope. Have I ever seen a check for this diagnosis? Nope. AND I don't really plan on ever seeing one.

My son has hopes and dreams for the future. He has already told me where he will be getting a job after he graduates from college! Plus, he was looking at the area where this job is and was house hunting!! Geez! Does that sound like someone I should be figuring out how to get a disability check off of?!

After the meeting was over, The Boy's father told the LD teacher that she needed his phone number because he was not notified "in a timely manner most of the time when something is going on" with The Boy. He then proceeded to tell her that if he had known before Tuesday evening that the meeting was on Thursday afternoon, then his wife would have been able to be there since "she has pertinent information concerning" The Boy.

When I told my Crazy Man about that comment, he told me that I "would not be going to any meeting where that man was going to bring others in and try to bully you even more." (See?? That is just one of many many reasons I love my Crazy Man!)

So, all in all, the decision was made to change his diagnosis, in part, because he can receive more services and to keep him from having to be tested and put through all of that stress again.

Since that meeting, The Boy has been doing well in class. We have worked out some major issues (him not eating lunch and why...a couple of classroom issues...etc) and things are going ok. He talks about his Transitions class almost everyday. He joined FBLA and happens to be the only Freshman. There are about 40 kids in that group which has him a bit stressed, but at least he is away from the kids in his class that really stress him.

He is learning (always!) to work with others. He does not do this well! He had a history project that he was paired with 3 others and he got a 73% on the assignment. It has not been a happy place around our house with that grade! And believe me when I say that I am not the one who is complaining about it! Don't get me wrong. I am not thrilled with the grade since I know that he is capable of getting an 'A' on it, but he is the one who is pitching fits about it.

So, another fun (if you enjoy rollercoasters) year is in store for us with school. I must say that I really am not a fan of rollercoasters. But, if riding one with my son makes his world more tolerable, then I will sit right there with him holding his hand.