The 32 D'ohs

Yes, there really is a sound file somewhere on the Internet composed of 32 "d'ohs" right in a row.

What makes me think of it is that I just managed to scrape straight up my left arm, nearly from elbow to wrist, on the spring that popped out of the side of my mattress some time ago.

(Yes, I should get a new mattress, but I mostly remember it's there, and as I have a California King sized bed (a hand-me-down), mattresses are expensive.)

Ow.

The long campaign of making Bulldozer not hate his communication device began today, when I made him Bingo caller (our spelling words this week are the basic colors, which he -- not so coincidentally -- adores talking about).  He began to hate his device when he began to hate speech -- also not so coincidentally, but that's another story.

He did, however, sit with Speech Aide C -- who may not be returning to our school next year due to budget issues -- and do actual speech with her for nearly 20 minutes, quite happily.

Ironically, she sends everybody else she works with into a tailspin meltdown.

Also, once upon a time at our school, there was a boy named MF, as opposed to MW.  MF, because he is extremely intelligent, was moved to a more challenging program.  Every time -- every time -- I have seen MF this summer, walking to or from the bus, some aide has been leading him BY THE HAND.

Grrr.

I had MF one summer for summer school -- I think he was in first grade at the time.  I didn't lead him by the hand then.  He knew where he was going.

Grrrr.

Of course, I also can't figure out why former student J (the one who was legally blind) is coming to school every day with someone who I assume to be her mom, using a white cane, only to have her mom take the cane home with her every day.

So, we have my brain struggling with: (1) Hooray!  She finally got a cane! and (2) Um...canes only help if you use them...in this, you know, unfamiliar, crowded environment.

Bwuah?