Zombies. again. I hate zombies, but I must say they are way better than dreaming about losing my kids.
I sent off that e-mail requesting a meeting Sunday and then every time I got a new e-mail, my heart bumped and I felt sick. To distract myself, I turned my MP3 player up and went to do laundry. I was taking the Goofy One's clothes out of the washer when my MP3 player hit the song Timber. Next thing I know, I'm getting a mental flash of Goofy's school psychologist twerking in a bra and thong, face down, booty up. all I could think was, wow. that's going to make this IEP very interesting. Now, the man is attractive but picturing any straight-laced 40-50 year old man twerking in a thong with their bottom in the air is a comical picture. I laughed all freaking night long. "They say they won't but I bet they will." I think that may be my favorite song ever now :)
That didn't stop the zombies from hitting that night. All I remember from that night is seeing a single zombie and the mumbled phrase, "fucking zombies" when I woke myself up.
Monday was a rough day. I was horrible. Too little sleep, too much drama... I was not nice. BUT, I did get the e-mail I was waiting on. It started "Mrs." and I thought, shit. It usually never goes well from that point on. This time, however, he said he talked to the principal, her schedule is full this week. They would like to meet with me as soon as they get back from winter break. ...is that politeness and agreement to a request or is that willingness because they see it, too? Hm. Watch, I worked my butt off and won't even get the chance to argue my case.
I was so tired and cranky from lack of decent sleep that my husband put the girl to bed for me so I could get some sleep. I was all snug in my bed, thanking God for small favors by 8:30. At 11:45, I'm still laying there staring at the green light on the cable box, going over my argument. Comparing evaluations, IDEA disability definitions, rules for Specific Learning Disability, rules for Other Health Impairment, why he I think he might qualify under both, rules for medication, the reasons I am not increasing his dosage... Thinking about what I have and what I still need, what needs to be searched out, what needs to be read again... My brain doesn't seem to realize we have more than 2 weeks to get ready.
4am, the Goofy child is in my room chasing cats, yelling about something with every freaking light on. I scream at him to get the heck out of my room and turn the effing light off (yes, I'm a bad mom.) and next thing I know it's 5am, Walter and Goofy are fighting in the hall, the girl is screaming... Walter's trying to clean up soggy bits of diaper, fend off the Goofy One, and calm the girl's crying. Such a sweet boy.
As payment for loving his mother so much that he'd go through hell to let her sleep, Walter is the last boy who's taking a mental health day with me before finals start and before he's trapped here with a bunch of wild beasts for 2 weeks. One day of peace and quiet.