Monday, March 21, 2016

Seventy nine.

Seventy nine.

Seventy nine.

SEVENTY NINE.

Only seventy nine days until we leave for Florida. We leave everything and everyone behind. School. Family. Friends. Knowing how to get to this store or that restaurant.

Seventy nine days to go through everything we own and decide what to keep and what to get rid of.

Seventy nine days to make minor repairs to our entire house and clean it for selling.

I wish I had more help. I feel like I have to do this all by myself. George is gone from 7am until 6pm, and he's tired when he gets home. The kids are gone at school all day. They don't want to have to come home and work, either.

I just wish I had someone here to give me directions. We're not allowed to pack anything because of the movers. But how do I get anything done if I can't do anything?

Seventy nine.

Wednesday, March 16, 2016

I’m struggling with some feelings. My heart is hurting. I’m not looking for advice, or a pat on the head, or anything really. I just need to get this out of me.

This morning, after dropping my whole passel of kids off, I was heading to an appointment. Fortunately, I was going to be very early. At a stop light, I saw “a guy” walking. It was raining and very windy. His hat flew off and he had to chase it. I saw several people laughing in their cars. It was a little comical, but I still felt bad because of the rain and because his hat landed in a puddle in the gutter. Then I saw his face and thought I recognized him. My light turned green and as I got closer, I saw that it was who I thought it was.

It wasn’t “a guy”, it was a kid that is in class with Lily. Mind you, this is all happening at about 8:15am. High school starts at 8am. Add in that this intersection is around 2.5 miles from the school and he’s walking. And it's rainy. A lot rainy. And fairly cold. So I turned around and pulled up next to him, rolled the window down and offered a ride. He recognized me and accepted. I’m not sure what his specific disability is, only that it’s not physical, though his speech is somewhat unclear when he's talking fast. It’s not super severe, I mean, he can carry on a reasonably adult conversation, he can get himself to school, etc.

This is the part I'm struggling with:

He was going to walk all the way to school, in the rain and terrible wind because (his words) “my mom forgot I had school today”. We chatted as I drove to the school and he ended up telling me that he either has to find a ride to school or walk. We have a city bus system that disabled persons can use at reduced fare, or even better, special needs kids get bussed at no cost to their families. I don't understand why someone wouldn't take advantage of that if they don't want to drive their kid. I mean, he said she was home. He implied that she had a vehicle. He said she just didn't like to drive him to school.

I understand it's hard being the parent of a kid who has an intellectual disability. It's hard. It sucks. It really fucking sucks. It's struggle after struggle. It's watching all the other kids succeed and follow that "milestone chart" while watching your own child fight to get potty trained, even though they're 8 years old. It's meeting after meeting after meeting to discuss test scores and "adapted testing", "adaptive PE", "adaptive learning plans". It's teaching the same damn thing 500 times and it still not sticking. It's having to help a 15 year old shower because she still doesn't know how to wash her hair and get it clean. It's being told that "you're never given more than you can handle" or "god chose you for this because you're strong enough for it" and having to smile at the idiot saying it instead of punching them in the nose like you really want. Because guess what? It is more than I can handle. And I'm fucking tired of being strong. People don't understand what we go through. Unless you are living it, you can't guess what it's like. I'm trying to remember that. I'm trying really hard to not be judgmental, but it's so hard. I know that I don't know the whole story, either. But I think about what it would take for me to just shove Lily out the door every day and I just can't come up with anything.