I had a plan for the morning. After the kids went to school, I was going to immediately go to the gym and get in a workout before doing the morning procrastination routine (aka blogging and reading gossip websites) and a few hours of proper writing. I’m finally getting back to proper writing after an embarrassing long hiatus. I thought I would get the workout done in the morning, instead of later in the day when it often doesn’t happen at all.
But then Jonah’s school bus didn’t show up. It was too cold for the busses to work this morning. So, I had to drive him to school after Ian’s bus showed up. So, instead of calmly working through the checklist of chores before Ian got on the bus (breakfast, medicine, vitamins, teeth brushing, socks on, lunch packed, backpack by the front door, shoes tied), it happened more chaotically. I was locating my gym bag and my missing ear buds. I had to warm up the car. Jonah was stressing out about being late for school.
When Ian got on the bus, we screeched out of the driveway. After we finally got close enough to the school, I dropped him off, so he could jog past the traffic jam around the school and make it to his first class on time. I got to the gym and changed. Randomly, I decided to check my phone before I got on the treadmill. There was a call from school. Ian was having a meltdown, because he forgot his backpack at home.
I raced out the gym, located the backpack on the kitchen table, and dropped it of at school. I came home to send apologetic e-mails to the teachers. While I was at it, I sent the case manager another e-mail about summer school, the district’s new reading policy, and a much-needed team meeting.
With Ian making so much progress and participating in a typical public school classroom, I was starting to feel like a regular parent, not a special needs parent.
There were years when my life bore very little resemblance to the lives of other parents. I was always on call in case of an emergency. There were calls from the school nurse because Ian’s sensitive skin made mosquito bites look like the measles. Or he vomited in the school cafeteria, because he was grossed out by someone’s tuna fish sandwich. The nurse always made me come get him, because she was worried he had a stomach virus. There were stomach-churning notes home when he didn’t act appropriately. There was the research involved in finding after school programs, in comparing public schools to private schools, in finding summer camps that would support him. There were times when I had weekly meetings with the school to discuss deficits in their programs. It’s been a lot of work, and I’ve been in a three-month sweet spot that has involved very little work. I could put my brain to better purposes, like actually working on articles that have been swimming around in the back of my head for months.
I think I’ve excised the stress for the morning. Thanks for letting me vent. Proper blogging next.
Apt. 11d 
This sounds familiar. Now that Eldest is at university out of town, we’re only managing three bodies in the morning but woe betide if something goes awry. So far, in 2015, we’ve all been healthy and the buses have been running (remarkable in the bitter cold). Youngest should bring home her exam schedule soon which will shake up our late January/early February schedule. She can stay at home on her own for a few hours now. Good thing as we’re likely going to need her to do just that for a few days at that point.
It still can get my adrenaline pumping, though, to have a bad morning where we oversleep or the weather outside is particularly nasty or she’s just a little bit off-kilter. . . .
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