10:30 am. I don't know that we are all going to make it through this day in one piece. Hopefully the height of the excitement (or the lowest point) was the moment I assaulted my son with a notebook. (No, I'm not proud of it. but it happened. we'll get there, just hold on.)
It all started back when Walter earned his freedom. For about a year now, he's been grounded to home (at first without a phone, but I kept forgetting to take it at the door) on school nights until after supper to make sure he has plenty of time with limited distractions to do his homework. This past report card, he finally got all but one grade above a C with only 1 missing assignment- this is awesome progress. He earned his freedom.
This morning, there is no school. (Dear School, you suck.) I was waken up by Goofy and Jason wrestling in my bed. I don't think Jason likes wrestling and I really don't think he likes a rollercoaster simulation. I rescue the hamster, tuck him in beside me and try to go back to sleep. Then the girl starts, "Mawm! I stuck!" (baby gate) and Alex responds with, "mamamamamama." OK! I'm up!
This is where I find that since my lovely husband bought chocolate syrup, there is no milk. along with no sugar. which means really nasty coffee. I'm not dealing well. There are e-mails and phone calls and badass kids. I'm going crazy.
Thankfully, Walter and Thing2 are willing to go to the gas station for sodas and will pick up a few packets of sugar and creamer while they are there. While they are gone, talking to my husband, I'm reminded that Alex has a -$.60 lunch balance so I need to check the other boys. While I'm checking the other boys, I need to check for missing assignments.
THREE Classes! Walter has missing assignments in 3 classes already! He's been ungrounded, what, a week? I'm mad. So, I'm sitting here taking notes and noting grade comparisons to discuss with my sweet boy. He comes in.
I ask him about the missing assignments and why they are missing to work on how to fix them. He lost a test that needed to be signed because he needs time to organize his locker but hasn't had time to do it. No problem, I'm thinking of times he can stay after for it when we start discussing 2 band assignments.
This is the slippery slope.
The missing band assignments are my fault. He needs to stay after on Tuesdays for band and he can't because I won't let him. Say what!? Have you mentioned band, ever? Well, he's telling me now. and he says he had to choose between band and tutoring on Tuesday and since I yelled at him for skipping tutoring Thursday, I would have yelled at him for skipping tutoring to go to band on Tuesday. (please note that Thursday comes after Tuesday) (and that we discussed band Tuesday in the sense that he asked which one he should go to and didn't respond to my text asking what the band practice was for) (also, please note that I get hundreds of e-mails from that woman so, no, I don't read them. neither does the neighbor dad.) so, this clusterfuck leads to this...
You're grounded for being (acting) stupid.
You can't ground me for being (acting) stupid! That's like grounding Alex for being (acting) retarded!
Mom! I didn't mean it like that! I didn't mean it!
He is now in his room for his own safety and to give me a chance to get my act together and figure out how to deal with it properly. (Tara, I know. I heard you as soon as I sent him to his room ;) eventually my voice of reason will kick in BEFORE I clobber him with a stack of papers.)
Then the Goofy one comes back in with the hamster:
You know he sleeps during the day?
he's noc-tur-nal. just go put him back.
Oc-to-ber. It's October.
Go put him up.
that's when the girl walks by with an open cup of water with pizza crust stuffed in it and a butter knife in her other hand and Alex- dear sweet Alex- tosses an entire bowl of Fruit Loops into the air to be able to crunch them under his feet. Nap time. Now. Get away from me.
I'm going to start a petition. There is never a time that "professional work days" should interfere with school days. I propose that they be held on weekends or in the evening because expecting me to deal with my own children on a school day is just cruel and unusual punishment.
But, the day turned out well. after I had a chance to calm down and realize I was an ass, I text my baby:
Me: I love you
Me: I love you.
Me: I'm sorry I hit you with my notebook.
Walter: The number you are trying to reach is out of service.
So I walk down to his room to find a laughing Walter. I asked why his phone was "out of service." Did he BLOCK my calls!? No, he made that up. I ask him if he got my messages, he did, he's ignoring me. So I smack him in the back of the head. "Hey! Are you sorry for THAT!?" pfft, no. Freakin little jerk. I walk back upstairs and get a text message. "I didn't mean to call Alex retarded. I meant mentally retarded." Ah, the difference between slang and medical terminology.
Even after "Mental Retardation" was replaced with "Autism" as Alex's educational diagnosis, the scores stayed the same- cognitive functioning "below the first percentile." Whether it's the testing or the kid, the results are the same. It is what it is. I guess the only thing to do is explain to Walter that Mental Retardation is out, Intellectual Disability is in.
As for the rest of them... Nap Time. It does a mama good ;) The evening was so much better than the day.