Alzheimers starts with an "A." Maybe you have Alzheimers.

Hey Jakey,

I don't know if I like this whole school thing. Practically every day so far, someone at the school wants to scare me to death with some new prognosis.

Last week, the school nurse called me up to tell me you had failed a hearing test. Even though you had just been thoroughly tested a few months ago in a much more elaborate facility than a school lunch room. And you passed with flying colors.

When we first signed you up for school, the psychologist called you autistic. Last week, your teacher said you had apraxia. Today, she rescinds that, and says you're probably not apraxic, because the school speech-language pathologist took a look at you and said so, but possibly ADHD with a speech delay.

WTF. Every week, with each new stab at some kind of label that they try to stick you with, I dreamily imagine life with a -- say, for example -- an autistic kid. Scratch that -- no, an apraxic kid. No! An ADHD kid.

Enough already! If you don't know, don't call me!

I'm pissed today, and slightly depressed. I'm physically a wreck, my back hurts from my neck all the way down to the tips of my fingers, my tummy is upset, my eyes are all dried out, my lips are chapped, my hips ache. Gah! I'm falling apart.

And... my daughter is enormous. Wavy's growing up and time's passing, and I'm getting older by the minute.

Love you. Bleh.