To be nobody-but-yourself -- in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else -- means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.
~ e. e. cummings
Yes, I know it isn't even 9:00 in the morning yet, but this has been one craptastic Monday so far. Therefore, I was utterly delighted to come upon this:
over on a new blog I just discovered this past weekend. Heck YES, I want to play along this morning!
You see, my morning actually started at 2:14, when into my dream of auditioning for The Amazing Race with my sister came a shrill and persistent, sustained beeping noise. Eventually, my dream self realized that no, in fact my sister and I weren't going to be meeting Phil Keoghan and his raised eyebrow after all, because that noise wasn't coming from my dream. I halfway woke up and pondered. It was hard to tell if the noise was real or just some sort of freaky, tinnitis-like sound I was only hearing in my head. I lifted my head off the pillow to listen with both ears. Hmmmmm, now it not only seemed to be a real noise, but it was sounding an awful lot like an alarm going off somewhere in the house. Smoke detector? Carbon monoxide detector? Crap.
I hopped out of bed tout de suite, fumbling for my glasses in the dark, and made my way downstairs where the cat greeted me in a state of mild but clear distress. Okay, at least that means there were two of us hearing this ungodly sound. I looked at the CO detector - nope, that wasn't it. I flung open the basement door and instantly the shrieking beep dramatically increased in volume. Not seeing any smoke, I quickly determined that the sound was coming from the sump pump alarm and that the sump pump had stopped running. (For the record, we've had the basement flood three times since the beginning of January due to sump pump failure. I should also mention we have a brand-new sump pump now, as well.) Crappity crap. I dashed back upstairs and woke Hubby up. Hubby, who has always been the much lighter sleeper of the two of us, who wakes up with a start if a fly lands on the ceiling or a dust bunny moves on the floor, was sleeping soundly away, totally oblivious. As soon as I whispered "Dude. That's the sump pump alarm going off!" he was out of bed and racing for the basement in a flash. I followed him back downstairs to see what level of an emergency this was going to be.
Turns out there was a small piece of plastic that looked like the cap off a container of caulk that had found its way into the well and jammed itself into the machinery in such a way as to prevent the pump from starting when it should've. Given that it had been raining pretty steadily for the past several hours, the well was on the verge of spilling over, hence the alarm. (I'm not sure exactly how long the alarm had been sounding before I became conscious of it.) Hubby extracted the piece of plastic, the pump started up, the water level began draining and the alarm shut off with a very horrific, dying SQUEEEEEEAAAWWWWWWWL sound. Crisis averted. We headed back upstairs to bed, leaving the still a bit freaked out crazy cat in the family room. (Okay, I get that the noise was probably extremely upsetting to her - it was upsetting to me and my hearing is nowhere near that of a cat's. However, this is the same creature that hears secret messages from the Cat Home Planet whenever we use the DVD player, so, you know, her reaction to any noise is automatically suspect.)
By 2:19, I was back in bed. Wide awake.
I checked the clock again. Yeeha, it was 2:31.
2:48.
3:12.
3:43.
4:07. Dagnabit, why am I still awake? SHUT THE HECK OFF ALREADY, BRAIN!
Of course, I know darn well why I couldn't fall back asleep. Besides the fright factor and subsequent adrenaline rush of "AN ALARM IS GOING OFF SOMEWHERE IN THE HOUSE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT EEEEEEEK!" that had rendered me fully awake, I had lots of things to think about. Things like Kiddo's upcoming CSE annual review, for which we have a team pre-meeting today. You know, those things that like to keep one up in the wee, small hours of the morning. Bleargh.
4:36 and I thought about giving up and getting up, but eventually, finally I drifted back off to sleep. It was a brutal awakening when Kiddo's alarm went off two hours later. I rolled over and felt the pounding behind my eyes. Splendid.
I had just made my way to the kitchen, where the Excedrin Migraine lives in the cabinet above the sink, when I heard the dulcet tones of my beloved daughter freaking the heck out. For reasons unknown to anyone but her, she'd decided to wander down into the family room without turning on any lights. The family room which was pretty much still pitch black, as the sun wasn't up yet and the shades were drawn anyhow. As she made her way through the darkened room, she stepped in something cold, wet and slimy.
Yep, you guessed it. Cat hairball, with a chaser of what once was dry cat food, now mostly digested, for good measure.
Now, you would think that as long as it wasn't you who had trod upon cat barf in naught but a pair of fuzzy slipper socks, life would be good. However, when it is your child who steps in the cat barf and then promptly flips out and begins screaming and hopping around, managing to grind said cat barf further into the carpet and spread it around in the process? Actually, that's much, much worse.
So there I was at ten to seven this morning, skull feeling two sizes too small and eyes feeling like they were about to burst right out of their sockets, kid shrieking and ewwwwwwing and hovering over my shoulder to witness the scene as I used the last, few paper towels on the roll from the laundry room to clean up cold, wet, ground-in cat barf. (Apparently the cat was more upset by the alarm than I'd realized...)
And speaking of the last, few paper towels on the roll, it turns out that every kind of paper product that comes in roll form had decided to run out simultaneously this morning. I kid you not: when I got up to pee at 3:12am, voila, two measly squares of TP left on the roll in the master bathroom. When I went into Kiddo's bathroom to grab some Advil at 3:43, I discovered another empty roll. After using the last of the paper towels in the laundry room for Operation Barf Removal, I went up to the kitchen to wash my hands......... and discovered the paper towel dispenser next to the kitchen sink was devoid of Select-a-Size Bounty as well.
Cheese on toast, man! This Monday is definitely a contender for King of the Craptastic.
And it's cold. And it's raining. And it's freaking MONDAY. And I have to go grocery shopping in the cold and rain this morning. And we have that IEP meeting I was up stressing out about this afternoon. And Kiddo has her swimming lesson after school today. And it's freaking MONDAY.
Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
I totally want to run away to the Seychelles after watching last night's episode of The Amazing Race. I'm fairly certain those ginormous tortoises that live there do not barf up hairballs... of course with my craptastic luck, I'd probably arrive just in time for a monsoon.
The big CSE meeting was yesterday morning. Many, many shenanigans occurred prior to the meeting, and Hubby and I wound up writing a letter to the CSE outlining our deep concerns about some of these shenanigans that we sent on Monday. This stirred things up a bit more, needless to say. All of a sudden, the person who had no-showed twice for an in-class observation of Kiddo turned up at school and observed her. All of a sudden, the principal of the school was there for the meeting. We were very, very, very stressed out by this time yesterday.
And then? It all went our way. Improbably, unexpectedly, shockingly our way. With our concession of allowing them to label Kiddo as having ADHD (which, for the record, we are not yet convinced she has, but a doctor's statement that she presents with characteristics that are consistent with ADHD was all the CSE committee needed), they continued her classification as a student with a disability, OHI. They also approved the continuation of her services, including her aide and sensory diet. After the meeting, there were tears and apologies - to us, not by us. My gob was thoroughly smacked, to say the least.
So, whew. Kiddo will be able to continue to learn and succeed and be a happy, well-adjusted first grader. She will have the support she needs so she will not fail. Whew.
10) Other health-impairment means having limited strength, vitality or alertness, including a heightened alertness to environmental stimuli, that results in limited alertness with respect to the educational environment, that is due to chronic or acute health problems, including but not limited to a heart condition, tuberculosis, rheumatic fever, nephritis, asthma, sickle cell anemia, hemophilia, epilepsy, lead poisoning, leukemia, diabetes, attention deficit disorder or attention deficit hyperactivity disorder or Tourette syndrome, which adversely affects a student's educational performance.
including but not limited to. Five words that are at the heart of a big issue.
When we moved into this new school district back in May, Kiddo had an IEP in place which classified her as a student with a disability, Other Health Impaired. The paragraph at the beginning of this post, taken from the state IEP guidelines, is the one that describes how a child can be classified as "other health impaired" and therefore receive services through an IEP.
(Side note, because I'm angry and bitter right now: I cannot begin to tell you how many people, including several people that work for this school district, have told us how lucky we are to be in this school district and how grateful we should be for being able to partake of this wondrous, super-awesome school district. I can't italicize enough to convey the tone with which I type this, but suffice it to say I am not feeling particularly lucky or grateful right now.)
Kiddo's old school district classified her as "Other Health Impaired" for her SPD because there is no specific category for SPD as a classifying disability. (Things like autism, deafness, emotional disturbance, learning disability, visual impairment and so on all count as their own qualifier. OHI is meant to catch the rest of the disabilities that do not have their own qualifying category.) The old school district read that paragraph that stipulates what counts as OHI and chose to include SPD because of those five words "including but not limited to" and all was well. Kiddo was granted the services she needed to succeed in the classroom, most importantly the aide to provide her sensory diet. (Yes, yes, getting the old school district to follow through and be in compliance with the IEP was a major battle, but at least we had the plan written and signed.)
The new school district? The one that is so awesome and the one that we are so damn lucky to be in now and for which we should be so grateful? They are choosing to ignore those five words. To disregard them completely. They have stated in no uncertain terms their intention to declassify Kiddo and therefore discontinue her services and IEP at the next CSE meeting on December 3rd. They say that SPD doesn't "count" as a qualifying disability, because it doesn't appear in that list. Furthermore, SPD isn't yet included in the DSM, so they say that means they don't have to count it.
But, but, but........ they really do. They do because of those five words. "including but not limited to" means that they can't limit what counts. That's our position, anyhow, and we plan to fight. Kiddo's SPD is a chronic health impairment. It does result in a heightened alertness to environmental stimuli. It does impact her ability to function and succeed in the classroom.
There are alternatives to the IEP. Implementing a 504 plan has been suggested. Not just suggested, but hailed as the shining beacon of perfection that will be the savior of all this mess. Except... a 504 plan doesn't give a child an aide. Aides (or "paraprofessionals" as this district calls them) are only available through an IEP.
Like that? Like how they're telling us we can have the plan that doesn't guarantee the services she needs, but that she doesn't qualify for the plan that does guarantee the services she needs, and yet they acknowledge that those are, in fact, the services she needs all at the same time? Kiddo is smart. She's extremely capable of learning in a general education classroom setting and has consistently worked at and usually above grade level. She's a happy kid, well adjusted and with good self esteem and lots of self confidence. She has many friends. She is well liked by her peers. She enjoys school greatly.
If the CSE pulls her services and removes her aide and her sensory diet, that will all change. Kiddo will not be able to succeed in the classroom. She won't be able to focus adequately if her sensory system is disregulated, which it will be if she doesn't have the support in place. She will fail. She will suffer. She will lose friends, self confidence and self esteem. (We've seen it happen before, at the first preschool Kiddo attended. It took time to get her back to normal, to have an unstressed, happy kid, and that was preschool. These are much bigger stakes now that she's older.) We've been told that if (or really, when) that comes to pass and Kiddo fails, we could then go back to the CSE and say "See? She's failing!" and then maybe they'd be more amenable to giving her an IEP and reinstating the services they took away. Hubby and I do not intend to let it get to that point. I think I need to go bang my head against my old friend the brick wall.
The CSE team wants us to agree to declassify Kiddo and to pursue the 504 plan. They're promising to give their best effort to arrange for services as best they can through the resources available at the school. (In other words: no guaranteed aide who has been trained in how to meet Kiddo's needs and supply the necessary sensory support as demanded at any given time.) We have said that this is not good enough. Not acceptable. We say Kiddo needs an aide. (They don't disagree, you'll recall.) They say that to have an aide requires an IEP, which they say Kiddo doesn't qualify for - unless, of course, we can come up with another diagnosis for her that would automatically qualify, like ADHD, in the next two weeks and show sufficient documentation to support that other diagnosis.
Oh yeah, you can bet we're going to fight this. Tooth and nail. We've already contacted a special education advocacy agency and are going to be strategizing like mad. We're also considering our route of due process in terms of appeals, mediation, hearings. We will fight this, because Kiddo needs the aide for her sensory diet. The thing that kills me is that no one, not a single person on the CSE, says otherwise. They all seem to be in complete agreement that she needs the aide, they just say she doesn't qualify.
We've got five words that say otherwise. I just hope we win.
It's snowing. Has been all day. Woke up to a world of white. Hubby and I tried to convince Kiddo when she first got up that we'd gone back in time and that this Sunday is going to be Christmas, not Easter, but she wasn't buying it. I am seriously, seriously sick of the snow.
Tomorrow is Kiddo's CSE meeting at school. A draft of her IEP for next year came home in her backpack today for our review before the meeting. I'd been worried that they were going to pull her one-on-one aide (remember? the aide that they didn't get in place properly until DECEMBER of this year?) but from what I can tell from the draft, that piece is still in there, which is good. Kiddo clearly is much more successful when she has the aide to consistently help with her sensory diet each day. Maybe tomorrow won't require my Big, Bad Mama cape after all, but I'm going to bring it just in case...
A person in my extended family is in the hospital right now. He went to the ER in the wee, small hours of the morning and will likely be in the hospital for at least three or four days. Depending on how he responds to the drugs, he may or may not require surgery. Surgery would not (obviously) be good, as there would be some long-lasting side effects during the recovery period. Please keep J in your prayers, those of you blog readers who are the praying sort. And while you're praying, another one of my friends has been having what very well could be the worst month EVER, and could use some prayers and comment love. Her blog is here.
In house-related news, we've found out that the town rec center for the 'burb to which we're moving has a summer camp program that is *much* more reasonably priced than any of the alternatives we've looked into and is located in the school she'll be attending in the fall. I spoke with the department supervisor and found out that it will not be a problem for Kiddo to have her OT during camp, either, which is good as that means one less thing to juggle. That is assuming, of course, that Kiddo will be receiving OT over the summer (we think she definitely SHOULD but who knows what the school district will say)...
An old friend of mine mentioned to me today that she is thinking of starting a blog. Y'all, if she does, you will TOTALLY need to read her. I'm not just saying that because she's my friend and would be a new blogger, but because seriously? She is one of the most interesting people I've ever known in my entire life. When we worked in the same office, she would tell me stories about things she'd done over the years and I'm telling you, each one was more fascinating than the last. She is an amazingly awesome person besides, so stay tuned because if she does start blogging, I will be plugging her blog like mad!
I don't know if it is because of the snow or what (I'd hate to blame it on my old friend PMS but let's just say I've eaten more Cheez Doodles in the past few days than anyone ought to eat...), but I've been in quite a mood all day. First I watched the 3 hour ER finale that had been hogging valuable DVR space since last Thursday, and I bawled my eyes out. Repeatedly. Then, (after brushing the Cheez Doodle crumbs off of my fleece blanket, which is decidedly not a Snuggie, alas), I was blogsurfing and wound up weeping while reading various blog posts. Also, I haven't changed out of my jammies all day. (I did take a shower, but then I put jammies right back on again.) All I want to do at this point is curl back up on the couch under my fleece non-Slanket (which Hubby read somewhere - Consumer Reports, maybe? - is far superior to the Snuggie) with perhaps a big bowl of popcorn or ice cream (or both!) and watch American Idol tonight. Although, I'm guessing that I'll be a wee bit depressed when all the contestants sing songs from the year they were born and more than likely, I'll remember each and every song from when I was in college or even after college. Yep, I'm definitely feeling a wee bit like Crotchety McGrump today for sure!
Last but not least, let me get some opinions from you, dear readers (and random Google Searchers who wind up here for reasons I'd rather not talk or think about.....). See, Kiddo once again wants to invite her entire class to her birthday party. With the upcoming move, we have been researching alternative locations to our house for a party. You know, places like Chuck E. Cheese or the zoo or one of the local bouncy houses. Well, the zoo has a "Radical Rainforest" party that sounds awesome, and would be within our budget (barely, but still within), and Kiddo would LOVE to have her birthday party at the zoo.
Here's the catch: The zoo has a maximum number of attendees and that number is 15. There are 17 kids in Kiddo's class, plus her 2 best friends from outside her class, so we're looking at a total of 19 kids. I called the zoo and found out that the 15 is a firm number, due to maximum occupancy requirements for the room they use for parties.
So, what do we do? Invite all 19 kids and hold our breath and hope that at least 4 don't show up? Make Kiddo *not* invite her whole class? (Which I'm really not a fan of on the one hand, having been the kid that didn't get invited to things back in the day myself, though the budget certainly would appreciate a smaller crowd...) The other thing is that the party could potentially be Memorial Day weekend (which is the weekend right before her birthday) and I don't know if that is a good plan or a bad plan. We don't want to do it the weekend after her birthday, since that is theoretically the weekend we'll be moving, but then again, we might be moving the weekend before if the closings come together quickly enough. The other alternative is doing it either two weeks before or two weeks after, though two weeks before would mean I'd definitely be skipping my 20th high school reunion. (I'm undecided on that one, as I haven't exactly lost a bunch of weight and gotten into crazy good shape as I'd intended, and also I don't know how many of the people I'd actually want to see at a reunion will even be there...)
What do you think? Invite the whole class and hope that at least 4 kids don't attend? Just keep looking for a different venue that would be able to accommodate up to 19 kids (to which our wallet says OUCH)? We can't do an "all girls" party because one of Kiddo's two best friends is a boy, and he wouldn't want to be the only boy there, and we can't just not invite him as his sister is Kiddo's other best friend. Hmmmmm. If anyone has a brilliant idea on this one, please let me hear it! Thanks!
I will leave you with a clip of a song that has been stuck in my head for days... The end result of being stuck home with Kiddo and her CD collection when she was sick!
First of all, thanks for the good thoughts and well wishes regarding the aide interviews, parent-teacher conferences and my infernal migraine. I survived the day on Wednesday and by yesterday afternoon, the headache was gone, whew. There were two clear favorites among the four candidates, a third candidate who would probably be fine as well, and a fourth that would've been a great choice had the position been "hostess or bartender at Hooters" instead of "aide to work with a five year old kindergartner" ....... Let's just say that the skirt was in the "micro-mini" realm and the top was in the "revealingly tight and low cut/unbuttoned" realm and the hair, make-up and nails all in the "large and heavy" realm and that it was very difficult to get beyond the appearance and presentation to picture the candidate actually, you know, down on the floor in the OT/PT room doing yoga or deep pressure with Kiddo. Hoo boy.
Anyhow, there were definitive top choices, and the process is underway to get one all vetted and hired, and there is a slim chance that things could move quickly enough for her to start on Monday (she said she'd be available to start then, at any rate, so it's all a matter of the hiring process moving forward). Failing that, we're supposedly to have the same substitute who was hired for last week (yes, another new person to Kiddo, I've lost track of how many folks this has been now since September to work with her...) but that person no-show/no-called on Wednesday, so not sure what the story is there. Just one more reason to hope that the permanent aide can be in place for Monday.
I felt very good about the top two candidates and so am hopeful that things will go well if everything works out with the rest of the hiring process. A cautiously optimistic WOO-HOO for that!! (Also, the parent-teacher conference went very well, and Kiddo's excellent work even at the kindergarten level made Hubby and I quite proud of her, so woo-hoo for that too. She's a little smarty-pants, our kid!)
It's funny, the dressed-for-Hooters candidate totally gave me flashbacks to my pre-SAH mom days job. See, I worked in "vocational rehabilitation" for individuals with disabilities. That's a fancy, official sounding way of saying my department helped folks with disabilities (of any sort) find and keep jobs in the community. One of our main programs was a "supported employment program" which involved job development and job coaching. Part of the SEP was a weekly "job club" in which we taught various resume creation, interviewing and other job-related skills to the program participants in a group setting. We had a few program participants with rather interesting ideas about interview-appropriate clothing, and more than once I arrived to pick up a client to take him/her to an interview and had to request that he/she go back into their home and change into something more appropriate before going to the interview. For that one candidate in the "I'm going clubbing right after this interview" ensemble, I would totally have recommended a clothing change, I can assure you.
On a completely different note, I've been tagged in meme land. The fantabulous Vickie issued a photo challenge, in which I should go to the fourth photo folder on my computer and then post the fourth picture therein. Here 'tis:
This picture was taken on June 20, 2003, the weekend after Kiddo was released from the NICU and home with us. She was almost one month old (so this is still before her actual due date) and she was about 4 pounds, 10 ounces. (To give you an idea of how not-very-big she was, the onesie she is wearing is a "newborn" sized onesie and you'll note it is a wee bit large for her! We had a heck of a time finding preemie-sized clothing at the time - there were just a few places that had preemie sizes for reasonable cost. I was so happy when she was finally large enough to fit in newborn sizes so she didn't look like a baby David Byrne...
Oh HECK, we just lost power for the briefest of moments and yet it was enough to lose about 500 words of this blog post! ARGH! And now, of course, I'm out of time and must get on with my day, so I'll be back later to do the rest in another post. Perhaps it was the universe's way of saying "Ahem, Heather, your post is getting too dang long already!" ...... Before I go, though, please don't forget there is still ONE MORE DAY to enter my very first giveaway for a terrific CD that we have been enjoying (in between rounds of Christmas music) here quite a lot! Click here to enter and good luck!
Okay gang, please think good thoughts for me today. The interviews for the four candidates interested in being Kiddo's sensory diet aide are this morning starting at 8:30, and then we have our first kindergarten parent-teacher conference tonight at 6:00. The headache that was at Level 4: Mildly Annoying when I went to bed at 9:30 last night, chock full o' drugs to kill it, instead morphed into Level 10: Major Migraine this morning. (If it goes to Level 11: a Spinal Tap Would be Preferable, I'm in serious trouble.) I've downed another handful of meds and ingested some caffeine for good measure. I'm a little shaky and the screen is seeming really bright (I know, WTH am I doing blogging then?) but I'm not feeling nauseous anymore and I can open both eyes at the same time without keeling over, so that's an improvement.
Oh how I hope these interviews go well and we find someone who will be a GREAT fit for the position. The school year is almost halfway over and we're still not where we should've been back on September 4th, and that probably isn't helping my headache any.
I'll let you know what happens later, if my skull hasn't exploded.
Sorry my blog has turned into a bit of a whinefest of late. I swear that it will perk up as soon as I get over this dang norovirus, Kiddo gets better (she spiked a fever again last night and is threatening to throw up, so is staying home today) and we get through the meeting we have at 8:30 this morning at school.
If this were any other meeting, I would be canceling it and staying home, in bed, where I belong. However, considering the amount of difficulty we had in getting this meeting set up with all the necessary players, there is no way on God's green earth that I'm canceling it just because I feel craptastic. We've got many, many issues to discuss, including last Friday's new bomb - the principal called me on Friday to say Kiddo's newly hired aide quit. Something about the pay being barely above minimum wage and the lack of benefits and her finding a position that, you know, pays something more livable and has benefits. So, yeah, we've got things to discuss... Hubby is going to the meeting as well, and he may have to lead the charge with things (he printed off all the various sections of the state law where it says when the school is supposed to have finished things and put things into effect to be compliant with an IEP) as my head is feeling milliseconds away from splitting in two.
I'm just hoping I don't explode in any figurative or literal sense during the meeting. Wish me luck!
