Beyond Ridiculous

Y'all know I've had a...dramatic...class this year.  Bulldozer, Superhero, and PH have been the main contributors, with M thrown into the mix too.

I know there have been days when the rest of them would've cheerfully pitched Bulldozer into the dumpster, especially after another hour of endless wailing.

I know there have been days when Mr. Voice was scripting at 90 decibels, Superhero was giggling the bad giggle, and Bulldozer was howling like he'd had an arm amputated.

(I even had to buy and $8 knock-off of these for poor M.)

But this is just...digusting.  The poor kid.

(By the way -- I have had an epiphany about PH.  He can still be a royal pain in the butt, and there are frequently times that he can be...well, not the nicest person around.

But the other day, he was so upset about being ignored by his whack-job mom that he made her a card that said "I miss you."  To the mom he freaking lives with.

He still drives me nuts...but I finally found the hook that enables me to have more empathy for him.)

That's Disney For You

It amuses me beyond measure that the store opened before the ride.

Sad and Amusing

Please don't hate me because I find this blog very, very amusing.

Especially this one, since it's a formal thing from a school.  If she's still living (I got a Christmas card from her either this year or last year), Mrs. Sylwester is exploding steam out of her ears at this very moment.  If she's not, she is spinning in her grave.

And this one, 'cause it's freaking tatooed on your body forever.

Something Random

I could rant.

I won't.

(Although Program Specialist SBS got some of it, and was suitably shocked about M, Bulldozer, and Superhero all being taken off direct speech services.)

Instead, I'll say this:  a few weeks ago, I had lunch at uWink.  It is definitely for the techie crowd, but it's fun.  The food is pretty good too.  :-)  It's not, say, a special steak and eggs at Brent's, Knott's mashed potatoes, or a Red's salad, or even a Bear Pit sandwich.

In other words, it doesn't taste like one of those unique, local places, but it is good mainstream restaurant food.

And, yes, I eat at Knott's for the mashed potatoes and not the fried chicken.  So sue me.

Squee!

I am either very tired, or very weird, but I find this very, very amusing.

Done

Okay, so the only goal I'm not too sure about is the math one -- I'm worried that Superhero's mom will think it's a step back, but it's not, really -- it's a functional skill that our CAPA testing showed that he's totally missing (counting dollars to buy something -- he can count, but when asked to apply it, he so couldn't).

Also, still no speech goal.

Anyhow, it's times like this that you think back to when he started -- as much as there are drawbacks to having kids for three years (I think, as much as he wants attention in general, Superhero is done with elementary school), it makes times like this kinda fun.

Like, when I was writing that he's not only completing familiar tasks by himself (his first year's goal was to complete 1, and his last year's goal was to complete 5), he's asking to and preferring to try things himself.

I stop and think of the -- very, very cute -- little 9-year-old who thought that if he just stared at me with that adorable grin, I'd think he didn't know what he was doing and do his work for him.

I think of the first day he finished his -- then very simple -- journal by himself.  All he had to do was color a picture, circle the matching one, cut a rectangle, and glue it in...but it was his Everest.

He may have driven me crazy this year, and I know teachers aren't supposed to say it, but that guy's one of my favorites.  Much as I adore Elastigirl, Superhero's got a special place in my heart.

Something's Fishy

More on Superhero.

So, I'm a procrastinator.  I'm okay with that.  In fact, I work best to a deadline.  Superhero's IEP is tomorrow.

But adding to my foreboding that DFT is going to either attach herself to a goal of mine (which, by the way, would be fine, as what he needs to work on in speech is exactly the goal I wrote...except that she didn't ask) or try to put him on consult is...he has no speech goal.

How do I know this?

Well, it's 8:53 p.m. and she has not added her goal to his IEP.  (An interesting side benefit to this whole online IEP thing.)

(For the record, all I have left is the math goal, which I'm floundering about....)

3 Years

...for three years I warned you this day was coming....

Oops.  Shut up, quote brain.

I'm writing Superhero's last IEP (for me).  I'm strangely not freaked about it -- mostly 'cause Mr. Voice's tri is next Tuesday, wherein I'll be yelled at for another three hours, and I know that Superhero's mom likes me.

However, I am gleefully (bad Spoowriter) anticipating her reaction -- as a Regional Center Case Manager herself -- to what I suspect will be Speech Person's DFT's attempt to take her son off of speech.

Her son, who is currently having behavior challenges because he can't communicate efficiently enough to interact with people to get enough attention from them.

Yeah.

I should not be jazzed about that.

But I am.

Does that make me a bad person?