Things

Some good things: I survived my very first IEP meeting. It wasn't bad, but the mom didn't come and I have a feeling I left half of what I would have needed upstairs, but she didn't come so oh well.

The weather has cooled down, probably because of two hurricanes in the area of north america, but I'll take what I can get. I spent the evening on the front stoop watching the kids play and ride their bikes back and forth. It was very nice, I wish I had a real porch that I could put a glider or something on . . . might invest in a glider anyway, they may be cheap at the ass-end of summer.

The car is driving well and despite blowing a wad of cash on vehicle related nonsense I think we will survive until pay day. My neighbor who gave me so many rides seems to be relived to see cars in my driveway. Its like living next door to your uncle or something. Fun. Good place to be.

Some bad things: I slept for crap and a half last night. I hope to sleep better tonight, but I think its a brain chemistry thing and to get things mellowed out I need to go back on the Concerta for a couple of weeks. I hate being defective, and I hate feeling like all my fire has been drugged outta me. But between stress, emotional nonsense, and plain old brain chem, a self feeding cycle of no sleep, bitchyness, and impulsivness gets started. Better to cut it off at the pass.

GOD I hope I'm not bi-polar. Evidence suggests otherwise. Don't argue with that, its my head, I live here, I know how it can get.

Gideon, took him to see his therapist today. He mostly needs assistance with school and will be attending SEKA, similar to Challenger from Pittsburg. An after school program that allows kids to work on social skills and positive behaviors. But he sees the guy every now and then until things settle down. Tonight Gideon was wound for sound. Climbing on chairs, playing hand puppets around corners, demonstrating what a dead penguin looks like on the floor of the waiting area, hiding behind chairs in the therapists office, sitting upside down and sideways in the chairs, not sitting still, covering his mouth and getting so wound he giggled himself to the floor, in other words, he was a hilarious little mess of a person. The guy looks at him, looks at me (wiped out after being at work all day) and asks "still opposed to medicating him?"

Its his brain, his beautiful, wonderful, creative, difficult to handle, refusing to comply, brain. In a lot of ways I like him just the way he is. Medicating him would make him easier to be around, but I love that biting spark in him. I don't want it to go away.

Some so-so things: Got my updated contract for this year, the old one was based on last year's numbers. I officially make over $40K/yr. That's an almost scary amount of money to me. Why? Because I've always been poor white trash. I've always been the one with envy in her soul when she watched you at the mall, or in your house . . . . now I'm the one making good money. I know it isn't retire rich money. It isn't even buy what ever I want money. But its still a hell of a lot more than I was bringing in a right after I left Shane. I almost think that was a different person who slept on her father's couch in his frigid house. Who lay awake in public housing, was that me?

I still don't have a phone and probably wont until after payday . . . . and its damned inconvenient and driving me nuts.

Most of my clothes are too big . . . sounds like a good thing, but when you already look young and work at a high school, there is an advantage to dressing up. In over sized clothes I look sloppy.

I'm outta stream. And still have lots to do. One thing about the internet, you really can work from anywhere.