And then I made a sammich. It was good.

I tried to post, really, honestly, I did. But they turned out something like this:
*clears throat*
I got up. I was tired. I slept for shit. I ate a hot pocket. It was good. But hot. And a pocket. At the same time. Wow. My head still hurts. Ow.
*bows*
Someone told me that no one cares what you had for lunch (which is actually on its way from the Amazon Fairy!) so you see, I didn’t abandon you. Really, if you think about it (and not even real hard), I did you a ginormous favor. It was best to just put those posts out of their misery and move on.

And now, Jim… The Sports.

My body is trying to break the world record for Most Snot Ever Out of One Small Person. I’ve gone through more kleenex than a junior varsity cheerleader with no boobies. The Hunk, God bless ‘im, went out into the snow and sleet to get me a box of Puffs with Vicks and Lotion with Aloe to prevent what could have been a very serious partial amputation of the nose. Pretty soon, all the goop production is going to dehydrate me and I’ll have to get some IV fluids. Damn winter and its damn head colds.

And now, Mitsy… The Weather.

We’re still battling with DHS and Hawk-i, and The Rockstar is unmedicated. And? Kind of like The Tazmanian Devil. The Wonderful Fifth Grade Teacher That I Am In Love With In A Totally Non-Lesbian Way (hereafter aka WFGTTIAILWIATNLW… aw hell, how about just Wfgt) had to send me an email today re: my Rocky/Taz completely losing his brain, and, I gotta admit, I did not have a heart attack and die from this surprise.

Now before you read this email… aw, crap, wait… what if she sues me?! Wait again! I have NOTHING! Save for the lint in my pockets and some furniture that Goodwill won’t even take, a few dented vehicles, and some refrigerator items that may or may not have lethal bacteria.

And. Don’t you go dissin’ on Wfgt. Because I will totally Kick. Your. Ass. I’ve got the boots; don’t make me use them.

——————–
Subject: Rocky
Date: Wed, 5 Dec 2007 15:49:17 -0600
From: Wfgt
To: Dory

I know that it will come to no surprise to you that Rocky has been having a lot of difficulties now that he has been off his meds, and it is increasingly getting worse.

I have been cutting his assignments down since I know that focusing is so difficult. [this is clearly a woman who knows how to choose her battles] But, it has gotten to the point that he is not completing ANY of his assignments, he was unable to do his math test (even with me sitting next to him prompting), and he is very disruptive to the class.

We are trying to make adaptations and looking for solutions (any ideas!) but I was wondering how long you think it might be before Rocky is back on his meds. Also, if there is anything that we can do to help facilitate filling Rocky’s prescription let me know. I know in the past, our school nurse has taken a role in this for others.

The problem with email is I hope this isn’t misconstrued as desperate… like I will do ANYTHING… please…. help….. duct tape, etc. It really isn’t like that!

Let me know if you have any suggestions!

Thanks, Wfgt
——————–

And here is my response:

——————–
Wfgt,

Hang in there with me, please please please! We’re having such a time with DHS and Hawk-i, I can’t even begin to tell you how frustrated it makes me. I got a letter 10/28 from DHS that since Hunky got a part time job, now we have to have Hawk-i. It said we wouldn’t have to do anything, we would be cards in the mail. Well, mid-November I called (oh, and anytime I say called, it’s really a relay call which moves approximately at the speed of erosion) Hawk-i because I hadn’t gotten cards yet. The gal said, “Yeah, we called your DHS worker and told them we needed more info on 11/2 and they didn’t do it.” So I called my DHS worker and she said, “If I had gotten a message, I surely would’ve acted on it.” And both… what are they, they’re not companies… slimy squid-like monsters said that it was not their fault and there was nothing they would do. Then last Friday Hawk-i said that we would be getting the cards in the mail in 3-10 days. At one point, we bought Rocky 5 pills just to get us through until we thought the cards would be there, and that cost $43 and came out of grocery money. And stupid DHS says that we make too much money to get food assistance! Me, on unemployment, and Hunky, on a part-time job, make too much money for assistance. It boggles my mind. And we get to do it all over again (oh the joys!) because I’m about to get my last unemployment check, which changes our income level, and I guaran-friggin-tee that Hawk-i will bounce us back to DHS and sure as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, so help me, they’re going. to screw. it. up.

*blink*
*blink blink*

Anywaaay, I didn’t mean to get off on that tangent. I talked to Rocky tonight and told him that he was going to have to put some more effort forth even though he doesn’t have his pills, I know he can do better than what he’s doing, even med-less. He agreed with me. So he’s going to really try much harder. Tomorrow I’ll check with CVS and see if they can just talk to Hawk-i and get the pills without the card yet. I know he’s really very challenging and difficult, believe me; it’s literally driven me to tears at times. Do me a big, huge, fat favor. Any teacher you’ve EVER heard utter the words, “Drugs aren’t what’s best for ADHD kids; they’re for parents who need their kids sedated because they don’t want to handle them” or any variation thereof, and I want you to go get them, and bring them to your room, and watch Rocky for one hour. There will be much groaning and sobbing and gnashing of teeth, but don’t let that scare you. Because one week after he’s back on his meds, you herd them all up again, and you bring them to your room (heck, use a cattle prod, I don’t care) and you have them, again, watch Rocky for one hour. You’ll make converts of them all. It’ll be like a big ol’ revival right there in school. Make sure you take up a love offering, because it’s best to hit them up when they’re all emotional.

Damn it. Tangent again. *shakes head vigorously*

Oh, and don’t think for one second that I have never considered duct tape and a large oak tree.

Highest Regards,
Preachin’ to the choir in Cedar Rapids
——————–

There’s not many perks to being a parent. So sometimes, God gives you a teacher that gets your kid. He’s cool like that.

Rip it, roll it, and punch it, dude.

Author: Dory

Believer. Wife. Mom. Deaf chick. ADD-addled. Photographer. Graphic designer. Blogger. Guano whacknut. Not necessarily in that order.

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