The wheels on the short bus go round and round, round and round...

Hey Jakey,

Your other grandma's here! For weeks. Weeks! That's all I have to say about that. For now. Except to say that the dear woman makes a 24/7 career out of not feeling well. And projecting her unwellness on me. As in "You look tired, Kelly!" or "Jakey, your momma looks like she doesn't feel well!" or "Are you feeling any better today?" And -- to your sister -- "WHAT is your momma eating that's giving you such horrible GAS?" I'm FINE, dammit!

I went to the IEP (Individual Education Plan) meeting at your new school today. So many acronyms these days.

I felt very alone. Your daddy (who actually IS sick) was home in bed, and Pam, your current speech and language pathologist (SLP!) wasn't there because your daddy gave her the wrong date. So it was just me versus:

1. The new SLP
2. The school psychologist
3. Your new teacher
4. The school principal
5. A kindergarten teacher (for some unknown reason)

We met in what will be your new classroom, and sat around a tiny table, in tiny chairs. I felt ridiculous.

The SLP and the psychologist each went over your test results, which I think we all have to admit are kind of inaccurate, since your problem lies in the area of speech and language, and speech and language on your part are needed to accurately administer these tests. Duh.

The psychologist finds that you exhibit signs and symptoms that place you on the "autism spectrum." THAT I balk at. All previous testing says otherwise. No one even once brought up the subject of "sensory integration dysfunction" (that both your current SLP and your occupational therapist have diagnosed you with) and when I eventually did, the entire concept was pooh-poohed. The SLP said that she considers "sensory integration" to be a catch-all term for kids that experts have a hard time categorizing. That when it comes right down to it, she could find sensory integration issues in just about everybody.

I had a hard time swallowing all that, given all the literature that has been written on the subject, and all the sensory integration specialists that exist, your occupational therapist being one. I felt I could've fought a better fight if Pam had been there with me.

But -- who knows if any of this makes a difference. Maybe it IS just a matter of semantics. The bottom line is that you qualified for services, and that you start school on the 25th (your birthday!).

She did mention that you may have "hyperlexia", which one of the symptoms is the ability to read before you can talk. She thinks, given your scary proficiency with computers, that you may already be reading. I'll have to read up on this.

At the very least, I felt cool and collected in my new jeans today -- two sizes smaller than before I was pregnant with your sister! -- and with my new Rafe purse, which I bought just yesterday, thanks to the prompting from MamaSutra and Barbara.

Everyone in the house is sick except for me and your sister. At first blush, this innocuous little bug seemed to be a 24-hour thing, since Wavy was sick for just a day, and you were sick but perked up not much later. But, as the days progressed, you fell sick again, and so did your daddy, and now your grandma is complaining (surprise, surprise...).

Your diarrhea is EPIC. At least you've quit throwing up. And I can't even get into what your daddy's been going thru for the past couple of days. The house smells like puke and poop, despite going thru an entire bottle of Febreze and a 4-lb. box of baking soda.

So yeah, the purse is mine. It was either that, or just jumping in the truck and driving and driving and never coming back.

Here's a heavily photoshopped photo of your sister:



Love you, even if you ARE a window-licker!