Four of the Five Stages of Grief

This kid is impossible. He is. He is maddeningly cute and funny and maddeningly destructive and disruptive.

Yesterday, I got another call from the school nurse. This was the fourth time in five school days that I had received such a call. To say that I was beyond weary of them is a gross understatement. The story was the same: "Hem, hem... (if you've ever read Harry Potter, this nurse reminds me of Professor Umbridge in a big, big way) Mrs. Hernandez, this is M, the nurse at (Your kid's) School". As if, by now, I didn't recognize the phone number on the caller id or her wanna be six year old voice.

"Charles fell down in lunch again today" Silence on my end...

"He fell backwards off the bench" Silence...

"There was no one around; no one pushed him, he just fell" Crickets...

"Mrs. Hernandez?"

Me: "Is he hurt? Is he bleeding? Does he have any bumps?"

Hesitation... "No"

"But, Mrs. Hernandez, I can't just let this go!"

Ummm, why?

Let's pause for a moment, shall we?

She has already established that he is not hurt, so why is this a medical issue? Shouldn't it now be a disciplinary issue? He is being disruptive. He is doing something that could cause injury to himself. Where is the medical issue? AND WHY THE HELL DO YOU KEEP CALLING ME????

Back to the conversation:

Crazy, evil nurse:

"Mrs. Hernandez, have you ever considered a helmet for C?"

Maniacal laughter on my end, followed by an uncomfortably long pause...

Me: "Um, NO!"

Crazy, about to get fired for being an idiot nurse: "Well, do you have any suggestions?"

Oh...I had a few...

How about:

take some people skills classes

take some social skills classes

read about Down Syndrome

look at the calender; it's 2010, not 1950

stop giving it so much attention

take a flying leap

have you looked into muzzles for yourself?

and...breathe...

The only one I could suggest was the one about not giving it so much attention. I mean, she is doing exactly what he wants; she is paying attention to his acting, she is letting him lie down with an icepack, she is giving him time away from class, she is bringing up the possibility that maybe I need to come and get him... I mean, what kid doesn't want these things? Who hasn't wanted to get out of class/work/jury duty/phone calls with people who complain the whole time from time to time?

He is working the system!!!!

Don't you get it?!?!?!?!

No. She doesn't.

And then, I had to go to work.

Once I got there, I began the Five Stages of Grief.

Actually, by the time I got there, I was up to number three; Bargaining.

Numbers One (Denial) and Two (Anger) were pretty much covered by the time I parked my car and walked into the building.

Denial: A HELMET?!?!?!? YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS THAT YOU ARE SUGGESTING THIS?!?!?!? Charles is fine, he's just acting out, being silly, etc., etc...

Anger: I vented to my Facebook friends and to a close friend who totally "gets it". I wished all manner of terrible, terrible things to befall this ridiculously clueless woman. And, then I vented again.

So, we were up to Bargaining. "If I could just get him to listen! What consequence will he care about?" This was a tough one, because, what could I say? I had everything to lose and nothing to gain from this. Charles holds most of the cards in this situation. The only lousy card I have is "T.V. and Wii restriction"...Big Whoop.

On to Depression. This could take a while...

"Why?" "Why does he do these things?" "Why do I have to be called out and embarrassed on an almost daily basis?" "Why is he giving this stupid woman any power?" "Why am I?" "Can't he just go to school, have a good day, come home, THE END?" "WHY DO SOME PEOPLE JUST NOT GET IT???!?!?!?!?!?????!?!?!?"

So, I'm here looking at Acceptance. I've accepted my kid. I accepted him before he was even born. I accepted him with all of the faults that we could see on the ultrasound (the major heart defect that would need two surgeries and of course, the Down Syndrome.) I accepted these "bad" things because I wanted to learn all the good things about this kid. This kid has shown me love, empathy, laughter in the face of obstacles, a whole new world of friendship, understanding, belief in the human race... so, so much.

I'll be DAMNED if this person won't accept him as she would any other kid.

So, I accept my kid, with all his faults and misdeeds and quirks and sillyness.

I DO NOT ACCEPT THIS WOMAN. I don't accept that she "doesn't get it". I don't accept that she would have made the "helmet" comment to a parent of a "normal" child.

I accept that it is my responsibility to see that C stops this behavior.

I accept that I need to go to school and talk about all of this.

I accept that I need to be part of the solution.

I do not accept this woman's ignorance.

I accept that I must teach her what it means to have the privilege of working with my son.