A Whole New Hue of Pissed Off

I should be in bed right now.  I should be sleeping, fighting off this cold that I’m coming down with, but instead, I’m stressing and steaming.  I’m pissed off like I haven’t been in a long, long time.  And, can you imagine what I might be pissed off about?

The fucking stupid ass public education system, that’s what.

So, Thursday we have a PPT (planning and placement team) meeting for both Max and Sara’s transition into this new, fabulous, public, integrated preschool.  I’ve looked over the notices we received in the mail about a thousand times, scrutinizing it for any indication of what we might expect at this meeting.  D and I plan to attend, obviously, in addition to our child psychotherapist, several school staff members (each kid’s mainstream classroom teacher, special ed teacher, speech therapist, occupational therapist) and a representative from the school district.  In other words, it’s a meeting of the minds.  During the same conversation that informed me to the scheduling of this meeting, I inquired as to when my children might be able to start school, as we are pulling them from their current school and would like them to be enrolled as soon as possible, and since the school year is quickly drawing to a close.  Not to mention, with two kids who suffer from sensory issues, the LAST thing I want is to put them in school for a few weeks just in time to snatch them back out for the summer and eff with their schedules which all but ensures that craziness will ensue.  The preschool liason from my home school district assured me they’d be able to begin immediately after the meeting.  Weeeee!

Not so fast, sweet cheeks.  As I’m sitting here reading this notice, I see NOTHING about developing an IEP (individualized education plan), which is required BY LAW for any special education student to start school.  And, for those of you unfamiliar with the special ed landscape, the IEP?  Is massive.  It’s almost comical how much time and information is put into such a document, but at the same time, it’s CRUCIAL to have a plan in place to deal with a special education student’s unique needs.

So, our meeting is Thursday, which also coincides with Max & Sara’s last day at their current preschool, and we have nothing on the agenda except to to around the room, introduce ourselves, and say, “So.  You think these kids need special ed?  Yep.  Ok.  Done.”

You can bet your bottom dollar I sent emails to all interested parties to clarify for me, exactly what the fuck it is we’re going to be doing at this meeting, besides exchange niceties and hear, ONCE AGAIN, that my kids need help.

Someone.  Please.  Stick a SPORK in my eye.  I’m not sure how much of this mess I can take.

Clarity

Well, THAT was a craptastic day.

I’m not sure why on some days, like yesterday, the stresses of my life creep up on me all at once and pounce on my belly so unexpectedly.  I’m winded and breathless.  The worst part of it, is that no one really seems to know what to say or do in order to make me feel any better about my situation.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that they don’t try, but no one I know very well has dealt with children like mine or all the accoutrement that comes too.  I’ve vowed today to join some kind of support group to help me better understand my place in the little world, which, I can only hope, will help me develop some better coping skills than what I have now.  (read: EAT)

I’m happy to report that by the end of last night, after a good cry and many, many episodes of The West Wing, I reeled myself back.  Also, knowing that tomorrow we meet with our blessed child psychotherapist to put together our action plan and begin OT sensory therapy for both Max and Sara.

I’ve never been more excited to see a doctor in my life.

And!  At my WW meeting, I lost another pound!  WEEEEEEE!  5 down, skeighty-eight billion more to go!

And!  D’s birthday is Friday which means my sister, her family and my parents will be descending on my home on Saturday to help us celebrate.  Seeing as they only make it here a few times a year, it goes without saying that I can hardly wait!

So, despite my funk yesterday, I feel like I have an awful lot to be thankful for and just as much to look forward to.

Wise Words from A Weighty Woman

I had convinced myself I wasn’t going.  As I drove the span of highway between towns, I’d talked myself out of facing the inevitable.  I fell off the wagon too long ago…I wasn’t prepared…I wasn’t ready to try this again… I told myself.  The easy way out was to just drive straight past the meeting, grab a #3 at Wendy’s which would do the trick.  But, in the time it took to exit the Interstate, the crowd in my head began to sway to the other direction.  Somehow, by the grace of my subconscious, I pulled in the parking lot, walked in the door, removed my shoes and stepped on the scale.

Day one, again.

I purposely waited to check in with my meeting leader, a young, roundish, loud Mom of two.  In other words, my twin with a Rhode Island accent.  She saw me, came from behind her desk and gave me a hug.  I nearly burst into tears.

“Where have you been?”

“I’ve had a lot going on,” I began, and proceeded to explain all the goings on of the last few months, including going back to school, getting help for twins with sensory issues, and how it all got in the way of my plan of losing weight and getting healthy.

“Do you remember the night I talked about my son’s autism diagnosis?”

“Yep, I do.” I remembered the meeting clearly.  She broke down in the middle of her weekly spiel while discussing her son’s recent autism diagnosis.  He’s 7 and she’d just found out that day.

“All I can tell you is that he’s doing wonderfully, and I ate and ate and ate and ate and now, I have a boy who’s doing wonderfully and a lot of weight to lose.”

“Point taken,” I said as I stepped off the scale.

She plucked the thoughts directly from my chunky brain, started me anew with all new paperwork, as if I’d walked through the door for the very first time.

Back at zero.  Day one.  Here we go…again.