Finally, I’ve written a post that I find so unappealing and abhorrent that I’m being forced to post again less than one hour later to cover up my shame.
What else can I do?
Today’s second installment contains some of my youngest sons favorite songs.
The same child who inspired the description “he’ll either rule the world or watch it burn after setting it ablaze”
He’s got interesting taste.
Hey, at least my kid didn't destroy Tokyo....yet
Well ladies and gentlemen, yesterday all the players converged in one small conference room with all their thick reports and strange customs to talk about the big issue. Il Duce.
What this boiled down to was lots of advice, tons of useless jibber jabber, and ultimately, a woman wearing an honest to god Kate Gosselin coif telling me my son was the antichrist.
Because I was having a hard time not being distracted by her hair (did she ask for that cut on purpose?) I began to wonder if some of my sons attention issues were inherited directly from me.
The list of infractions was long but not suprising including things like stopping others at the threshold and screaming “no ticket, no entry” and “I am an Imperial Guard, you may not pass”. They did however confirm some of the sensory and executive function issues we had pretty much known about for ages and made some useful suggestions for OT and behavior modification.
Honestly, I preferred the warm less abrasive style of the nice lady that looked like my aunt Marion so I was leaning a little bit more toward her rather than the “shock and awe” approach of Kate Gosselin who gave a jarring stream of conciousness tirade of “ten minutes in the life” where she never failed to show her disdain for the tiny classroom monarch. When we asked if she, as a behaviorist, would help train a shadow to assist in the classroom she immediately talked about how she was “far too busy”.
They ended the session with a shameless book plug (yes, these two penned a book and they mentioned that it was on sale at Amazon!) and a handshake while we were left to sort through two massive reports, an endless list of specialists (none of whom, I found, are taking any new patients) and the cold sweats about the effect this is going to have on our bank account.
Now comes the long expensive road toward getting this kid the RIGHT kind of help.