Reset the clock on waiting to find out about the next step of the application process for the boy, it turns out someone was sick and they didn’t send out the letters until yesterday.
*******We got the letter. He has been invited to go in for the next step in the application process, a simulated school day.**** It’s a little more than a week from now, then we’ll wait to hear if he’s invited for a personal interview…
Feeling a bit sad and self pitying today.
Mama had to go to the girl’s school this morning. No, no phone call from the school nurse, a “publishing party” that all the parents are invited to. The girl had clearly worked very hard on her piece. Not a surprise, she always works really hard. But when you walk down the hall her classroom is on, there’s written work on the walls from all of her classmates, though not hers. Between meds, neurocrud, and whatever mystery is the root cause of her neuro crud, she struggles, and it can be seen clearly in the difference btw her work and that of her classmates.
Parent teacher conferences will be coming up next month. Her teacher caught me on the side of the room and asked if I would mind if she scheduled our conference on a different day. Yanno, because we have so much to talk about. I’m certain the conversation will include her recommendation for testing/evaluations. I knew this was coming. I know it would be irresponsible on the part of the teacher if she didn’t approach this. I know it’s best for the girl to get this ball rolling, so she can have opportunities to be successful in school, and feel good about herself and her work, even open the door to her reaching her potential. But whatever her potential is, it isn’t what it was when she was a toddler, and that hurts. When she was two, we had every reason to think she was on a similar path as her big brothers.
I am blessed with two very gifted boys, and the girl has her own gifts, but hers are different, and not ones that are quickly valued in casual conversation with other parents on the “blacktop,” or even by our society in general. I tell myself to be quiet and be grateful, things could be much worse, and her life could be much harder. Sometimes that lecture doesn’t work, and I can’t help but think about the woulda/shoulda/couldas, and that she’s already got a life more difficult than most children on the playground.
Hopefully this new seizure control we’re seeing at this dose of medication will hold, and the control will be enough to balance out the cognitive slowing caused by the med. In the meantime I’ll remind myself that she’s a perfectly beautiful balance of strong and sweet, and Mr Putter and Tabby are perfectly lovely books to read, even for the 400th time, even if she doesn’t remember reading them before.
So I’m channeling Janis Joplin today. A little piece of my heart broke off in that classroom this morning, but when I got back for the meeting, I’m going to show them this Mama can be tough. 😛