This morning I woke up from a terrible dream. I dreamed that I had run away from my family. My husband had also run away, sort of with me, but I guess we had agreed to take these particular journeys separately because he was there, but not with me during my struggles. A bunch of random high school classmates had convinced me to run. We're turning 40 this year and our kids are driving us crazy, so let's get out of here...now!...to Maryland. (I know, random.) So there I was in Maryland, completely lost. Not physically lost. I was in Annapolis, but with nowhere to turn, nowhere to go, and no money. I tried stealing soup from a fancy Italian restaurant and then found myself wandering through a fancy department store slipping through elegant clothes made of silk and sequins wondering if I'd be good enough to work there, wondering if I'd be good enough to work in that fancy restaurant where I tried to steal the soup, but chickened out at the last minute.
Then my mom called. She had my boys. They were scared. They were wondering where I was. When was I coming home? It was time to grow up. I hadn't even said goodbye. I wasn't coming home until I figured my life out, what I wanted to do. I was standing on a filthy Chesapeake Bay and a storm was whipping up. I could hear their voices and noises in the background, and though I so deeply missed them, I hung up the phone and then woke up.
That was probably one of the most unsettling dreams I've ever had. Yes, I've daydreamed about running away plenty of times, but I've never once dreamed of leaving my family. They've always been apart of my escape. We escape together to a new life with no worries and leave behind all that is bad. I was so sad this morning. I missed my kids so terribly even though they were just a hallway away. I felt like I had betrayed their little souls.
I don't set much store on dreams. I have them. I tell them to my husband. We laugh or shiver, depending on the dream, and then move on. Today I've been pondering this one...a lot...too much. It was just a dream. I've gone through all the scenarios about how I might be secretly wishing to abandon them all and run, run away fast. I have promptly dismissed them all. I love my family. I think this dream was just a re-commitment to them.
My oldest son is going through a child study team evaluation for an IEP. He has selective mutism and was recently diagnosed with central auditory processing disorder. (I'm sorry if I've explained this all before. It's been awhile since I wrote consistently, and I can't remember what I have and haven't shared. And I'm too lazy to go back and reread my posts. Well, I shouldn't say "lazy". I'm pressed for time...and in the time I spent to write this little note, I probably could have gone back and skimmed through some old posts.) I expect him to be Twice Exceptional (2e for short). It's when a "gifted" child also has a disability. I'm hesitant to use the term gifted. I believe that we are all gifted in different ways and working with so many students from so many backgrounds, I believe gifted goes beyond an IQ score. That said, I do feel my son has above average intelligence. This makes my husband roll his eyes. He thinks we have just a regular old average kid, and while I'd love to say that was true, especially when we are dealing with very expensive therapy and a gambit of neuropsychological tests, he isn't a regular old average kid and his disabilities prove it.
This in and of itself is enough to make any mother crawl under a rock. We are also dealing with a short-sighted school district whose principal is an arrogant, hostile ignoramus who doesn't allow us to have an intellectual, problem-solving conversation about our children without him becoming defensive and argumentative. A lot of parents go through this with public school districts. Navigating special education is never easy. On top of this, our district is a failing district, and our community doesn't want to accept this. I went to a board of education meeting to express my concerns and the board president threw a hissy fit, saying I didn't know what I was talking about, and literally threw the state report on the floor and said that's what she thought of its results. Parents are afraid to speak up. Parents are afraid to rock the boat. They are content to be a bunch of sheep, except for the ones who do see the problems and those just put a "For Sale" sign on their front yard. I want to move so desperately, even before all these issues with the school arose.
I don't believe our district will qualify my son for an IEP, and even if they do, I'm skeptical as to whether they'd actually be able to provide the services he needs. So, yeah, after several hostile meetings with school administration and no support from the community, I've pretty much at the running away point--but like I said, with my family.
I have decided to no longer fight for my child's rights at the school. No, I'm not giving up. But, it takes so much energy to do so, energy that could be spent towards researching homeschooling and homeschooling groups. Energy spent researching things I can do at home to help with the processing issues. Energy spent on formulating and coordinating our goals for the selective mutism. Energy spent reading Harry Potter every night instead of passing out before the kids when the worry and anxiety had become too much that day. The school's issues are robbing me of time with my children in one way or another, from excessive homework to hour long meetings that go nowhere, and I no longer am going to allow that.
In my first four years of teaching I attended a retreat and we learned about the circle of control. Picture a small circle in the center of a page. A slightly larger circle is around that and then an even larger circle around the two. The inside of the center circle is, obviously, the smallest of the circles and that is what you have complete control over in your life. (We learned about it terms of teaching life, but it applies in all aspects of life.) Beyond that, our ability to control diminishes. The next circle we have a great ability to control certain aspects of life, but complete control is out of reach. The circle after that we can affect change with effort. The circle after that we must accept we have no control. Unhappiness lies when we get the circles confused, when we don't have the ability to see or accept what we can and cannot change. In teaching no matter how much I wanted to save my students from abusive homes, it was not in my power to do so. I could be a light in their world, and maybe make a few phone calls if it was really bad, but beyond that I had to let it go because what I identified as abusive and what our government identifies as abusive are two very different things.
I thought affecting change in our tiny district and community that flaunts how close it is would be somewhat within one of my control circles, somewhere. I was wrong. Maybe I made some ripples. Maybe I got some teachers thinking. Maybe. But for myself and for my children, I'm not going to see the change I want for them no matter how hard I fight. There's no one standing up beside me, and with public education, you need a force of parents. So I'm turning my attention to those two inner circles and putting other things way on out of them, like off the piece of paper.
It's the end of January. I have failed at my goals, sort of. (I blame the puppy.) I'm getting back on track again. While I didn't get the cleaning done that I wanted, nor did I stick to the schedule, I was looking around my house and realizing that I did better than I thought, especially considering the puppy. She kind of forces you to pick up things and keep them up. We're also keeping her on the first floor of the house, so I've been forced to spend a lot of time there as well because, damn, if you take your eyes off her for one second! I managed to finally clean out my boys' projects from last school year and put their new projects in the bins. (I take pictures of all their crafts and make little photo books for them instead of saving every craft that walks through the door.) And the dining room table is pretty well cleaned off. I can easily run a dust cloth today and vacuum and feel that I've accomplished something for the month. (I don't want to talk about my basement!)
I've kept up with my reading. Check!
And the groceries...ugh! It could have been worse. It could have been a lot worse. My dog died. My son was practically threatened by our school's principal. I got a new puppy who chews EVERYthing. I was $400 over budget. I know that's a lot, but when I was working full time, it was close to $1000 over budget. The fruits and veggies? The strive for 5? I'm more like two. I made sauteed spinach the other night and it was gross. Well, to me it was gross. I don't like sauteed spinach. I like spinach in things, like a vodka sauce over Parmesan shrimp topped with cheese (a favorite dish from a local restaurant). I do not like just spinach. I'm trying. I'll need to step up my creativity a bit on that one.
And there you have it, January is a wrap and I have not run away. So, no, I haven't failed. Not one bit.
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