Woulda Coulda Shoulda

So after one glorious week of “SCHOOL IS AWESOME!” and “THIS IS THE GREATEST SCHOOL EVER!” I had finally begun to unclench, a little.

Turns out that the honeymoon ended this week, though. On Monday, Monkey came home a little less excited than the previous week, and suddenly he was listing various transgressions he felt had been committed against him, and noting that “some of these kids really seem to have some problems,” which, you know, Pot, is terribly interesting about Kettle and all, but….

And then yesterday I got a phone call. As soon as I realized it was school, I’m pretty sure every muscle in my body just seized.

“We are only calling because Monkey really wanted to, and I hope that’s okay,” the voice on the other end of the line told me, as I could hear Monkey sputtering with rage in the background. (more…)

Last night as I got ready for bed, Otto took Licorice outside for her last trip of the evening, then headed upstairs to put her in Chickadee’s room. Before coming back down, he must’ve stopped in his office and checked his email.

“We have an email from Teresa*,” he said. [*Teresa is not the Hippie School owner's name, but as I'm starting to think of her as our family's very own personal Mother Teresa, I thought it would make an apt blog name for her.]

“What does it say??” I asked, already fighting against a small, dark voice in the deepest corner of my brain that was only too happy to suggest that yes, on 10:00 p.m. the night before school starts, she’s decided that Monkey will be too much of a handful, and she’s very sorry, but would we mind very much just not showing up?

“Oh, you know,” he said, “mostly that she’s glad that Saturday happened and she’ll see us tomorrow.” He went off to brush his teeth. I went and grabbed my laptop to read it for myself. (more…)

Several of you looked right past the story of how I nearly didn’t recognize my parents’ dog when they so-sneakily showed up last Sunday to surprise me, and went right for the more important issue, which was: How did Monkey do with meeting some of the kids he’ll be attending Hippie School with? (I would like to buy some proper syntax for that sentence, but I’m too lazy to fix it, so just pretend it wasn’t the most awkward and rambly one you’ve ever read.) Last Sunday we had just two of his classmates here (along with a younger sibling and the younger sibling’s friend), and despite three being a not-so-magic number when it comes to play dates, the boys did great. A good time was had by all, and aside from a couple of minor skirmishes (only one involving my own kid, even), all was calm and delightful.

Monkey couldn’t wait to start school. Every day he’s been asking IS IT MONDAY YET?? and every day I have assured him that school will be here before he knows it. So when we got an email on Thursday letting us know that there would be a school-wide pool party today, I thought this would be a good way to say “Here’s everyone, and also now it’s nearly Monday,” and I put it on my calendar.

But then yesterday Monkey voluntarily went to bed early, which is never a good sign. (more…)

Yesterday we got to go to the middle twice; first, for Chickadee’s 8th grade orientation, then later, for Monkey’s 6th grade one.

I took Chickie in the morning and marveled at how different it was, now, from her first foray into this building two years ago. She met up with friends easily, ran to greet and hug favorite teachers, and then parked herself at the brief assembly with her buds, leaving me happy to catch her glance now and then from the row behind them.

We picked up her schedule and discovered she hadn’t gotten a couple of teachers she’d wanted. Worse, it appeared many of her friends had the classes she didn’t. I braced for her disappointment.

And it didn’t come. (more…)

To recap: Monkey had to leave his social skills group last week, but this week he was allowed to return for the last session. There were apologies all around and he made a special effort to play nicely with the kid he clobbered last week, and as it was the wrap-up and party I think we were all happy to be able to end on a high note. But all was not sunshine and rainbows; he did end up under a table for part of the time, demanding that his therapist “just please make him shut up” (referencing a chatty kid who was getting on his nerves), and although SuperAspieDoc assured me it was fine and he handled it well—”He didn’t get violent! He asked for help!”—it only added to the growing knot of fear in the pit of my stomach.

We used to say that these episodes were so unlike him. More and more, the hyper-irritability and bursts of aggression ARE like him. Crowding out the clearer parts of him; dulling the brighter ones.

We still don’t know what we’re doing about school, with just a week left before classes start. I said to SuperAspieDoc “I know you can’t tell us what to do, but I kind of wish you would just tell us what to do.” And she acknowledged that she can’t make that choice for us, but did say she thinks it’s time to reevaluate his medications. (more…)