And it just gets worse. . .

Today was Micah's transition day at Summit Speech School. He spent time in his classroom with Heather and the two children he will be grouped with. We arrived at school on time (for a change), Micah got to go with the school nurse to label his cot and see where he'll be having naps. I brought one of the hearing aid dehumidifiers and a blanket/pillow bedroll that Oma bought him last November at the National Lutheran Home Fall Festival.

While Micah was checking things out in the nap room I told the nurse and the school's executive director who also just happened to be in the room about our situation with Micah's transportation. Their faces just fell, even before they could get the Oh-Nos out of their mouths, I knew that this was worse than I had anticipated, and simply not an appropriate means of getting Micah to school.

That was bad enough. At noon the school district's case manager calls and leaves a message on our answering machine. There was a 'situation' on the bus - but no word on if it was specifically the one Micah would be riding or the details of what occured - and they now are rethinking how to get Micah to school (excellent) but they cannot get any new arrangements made by Monday (bad, especially since we've worked preparing him for his birthday and starting school for the past two weeks).

So this leaves us with me transporting Micah Monday, possibly sending him back to the babysitter's on Tuesday and me driving again on Wednesday. Summit School was very accomodating with this new development. Micah's sitter can take him Tuesday for most of the day, I'll need to cancel work on Wednesday if a schedule was put in for that date. The logistical domino effect just keeps clicking away, and what is irritating about it is that they have had more than adequate time to make appropriate arrangements. This was not one of those 'the IEP was signed yesterday and now the logistics need to be worked out.'

I won't even begin to whine about having made three trips to school in the past three days (one Wednesday, two today). That would be whining and I never do that. Ever.

Then in a further development we ran into the family of another child from the township who went to Summit School, who went through a similar situation with the transportation - and the child's mother said "oh, they tell you the others on the bus are eight to 13 years old, but they've been that age for three years or more"; most are adolescents or older, some have to be restrained (read: not just with a simple seat belt) on the bus and moan and cry for the whole hour's trip to school. Oh perfect. Not exactly the greatest role models for an impressionable three-year old.

So I have gone from we can give this a trial period and see how it goes to NOT MY CHILD. FIX IT. NOW.

This parent also told me that another township family retain the services of an attorney - so just when I thought we could forget about needing the special education advocate, the possibility of having to go that route is rearing its ugly head and aiming its fingers toward our wallets.

On the up side of this rather dismal day, I got some long over due errands done: returning a shirt that was purchased in a fit of 60s nostalgia that was just tragic once it was put on, getting Micah's birthday check from Oma into the bank as well as the contents of Thea's piggybank (so much for that vow that we'd empty it monthly this is the first time since December, I think), mailing off bills, picking up some pants at Target for Micah because all of his 2Ts are looking like capris on him.

Amidst our errands I wanted to go to Toys-R-Us to pick up a present for Thea to take to a birthday party tomorrow - and Micah has been nagging, nagging, nagging for Mavis, one of Thomas the Tank Engine's pals, so after returning the tragic blouse to Bridgewater Commons, I asked the GPS to find one.

And it did. It sent me to the Corporate Distribution Center in the middle of an industrial park in Somerset. So in addition to the school district's transportation department, the Garmin Nuvi is currently occupying a rather prominent spot on my sh*t list.

In between trips to Summit School, we had to return home for Micah's last session with the speech therapist. She brought Micah a really nice Thomas the Tank Engine puzzle, 24 very large pieces that he enjoyed playing with and talking about. Then we picked up Thea at school and went off to the bank - we bank at TD Bank not for its sound fiscal guardianship of the children's money, but because they have nice lollipops. They spent at least five minutes in the bathroom mirror admiring their green tongues and teeth before I made them brush and get ready to go out.

Tonight was Summit School's Family Fun Night. We went last year, and they seemed to have a good time, so I paid for us to attend at one of the Wednesday group sessions. We arrived on time, so we could explore, purchase tickets for the basket raffle (we won nothing), have some hot dogs and junk food. Thea loved the clown/magic show last year - and this year she was right in the front row, heckling the clown when he was trying to fool the audience.

We met a Summit alum who was on American Gladiator (though I am clueless as to what the show is exactly about) and went to a puppet show before settling in for the magic show. Micah's gastrointestinal tract chose this moment to blow; I got a whiff and when I lifted his shirt, the contents of his diaper were at the top of the diaper ready to go up his back. Ick, ick and double ick. And I had just used to diaper I had in my purse to change him when we got to school. So I had to hustle him out to the parking lot to do a major clean up.

So all in all this was a totally karm-less day.

Suboptimal

The school district's transportation department will not be making it onto our family's holiday card list. We did get a call on Thursday, but Micah will be riding a van with a driver and an aide AND four children ages eight to 13 with development disabilities.

(Read in my mommy subtext: four children who are at least twice as big as my little peanut, and whose behavior could be questionable. With a three-year old strapped in a car seat like a turkey on a platter - if the turkey could wear $8K of microelectronics on its missing head.)

I am NOT pleased. And when Steve called the transportation person, even she admitted that this was not the ideal situation, but it's what was available. . . .and she tried to sugar-coat it by telling him that the bus driver and the aide have been working together for nine years, as if that would somehow make it fine. "Your child is being put on a van with a bunch of behavioral unknowns, but the warden and the guard of this little rolling prison work well together"-type stuff. Bite me.

I am at a loss as to what to do: Allow it to go forward and see how the first day goes? Raise hell and wind up with no transportation? If he does go on the van Monday, my car is going to be fired up and ready to go and I'll be driving as if attached to its tailpipe by an umbilical cord.

The last week of almost three. . .

Sunday the wee beasties and I drove to Easton, PA to visit the Crayola Factory and National Canal Museum again. The day started grey and rainy, so it was a good day to get out of the house and avoid all the tidying up it so desperately needs. The kids had a great time with the various art projects - the model magic clay was probably the biggest hit this time. I liked the triarama (a triangular diarama).

Micah got his sleeves thoroughly soaked pushing his canal boat through the locks at the Canal Museum. The upper floor was closed off so the display where the flow of water can be manipulated by putting up various walls and dividers wasn't accessible, which was a bit disappointment.

Overall they were really good, with Micah only pitching a fit once when I wouldn't buy him this hideous stuffed cow. He had to be hauled out screaming, "Want cow, I want cow!" I wasn't going to buy it mostly because the evil clerk said she was closing the shop and it was only 4:50 pm (closing time was listed as 5 pm). We went to the Crayola Store to see the world's largest crayon, blue - Thea's favorite color and with a 'birthday' two days before hers, October 11, 2003.

Monday night I called our case manager at the school district with the "I know the transportation office has done this plenty of times, but this is my first and only preschooler who is supposed to be going to school on Monday and I haven't heard anything about how this will happen" routine. Got the polite phone call back, someone will call on Thursday or Friday, but she did leave the name of the person to contact, so she will be getting the same version of Monday night's phone call. I don't mean to be a jerk, but until proven otherwise and worthy of my respect, I am not giving my trust to these wienies on spec.

Two has been relatively easy, but the early stages of three are going to prove life-threatening for one of us. Micah's become much more stubborn, willful and naughtier - he hears better than ever but isn't doing a great job listening.

Done. . . .

The IEP has been signed and hand-delivered to the CST office at Orchard Hill Elementary School. Unfortunately, the IEP got rained and snowed on in transit from the car to the office. Since we arrived at the school around 2:45 pm, the front of the school (and all the parking close to the entrance) was restricted to school buses only. So Micah and I had to break out the umbrella and walk the length of the building to the entrance, IEP in hand, hence the soggy document we turned over to the CST secretary.

Done. Finished. Minor sensation of good triumphing over evil. Impending feeling that we will be using the word 'transition' in past tense soon, as in we have transitioned to preschool.

So now, will someone from the school district's transportation office please call me? I would like to know the whos and hows of Micah's getting to school, and since we had to be fingerprinted multiple times, scrutinized and interviewed to become his parents, I want to know that the persons accompanying him to/from preschool have undergone the same type of microscopic examination.

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Today was Micah's next-to-last session at Summit School. It was a day for the parents to observe the kids from behind the one-way mirrors, so I took a minute to stop by the school nurse's office to hand in all the forms that she had given to me over the past two weeks. She uses an incremental approach to giving out the forms 'so as not to overwhelm' new parents. I would recommend getting a read on the parent and then deciding; I would definitely prefer to have been given every last thing I had to read or fill out in one serving.

After completing my sacrifice to the gods of bureaucracy and on the way to the observation room, I met the principal in the hallway. He offered to have Micah visit the classroom he'll be joining for a short period while we were there today. So Micah missed out on finishing the project on textures to go to Miss Heather's room for her session with Ava and Tom. After doing such a good job separating from me the day of his interview, he seemed to want me to stick around.

Because Micah's IEP paperwork is complete, the principal offered that Micah can come visit his class a few times before he actually starts school on March 2nd. Now I need to find the time in the schedule to squeeze that in - and email the teacher to find out what times work for her schedule.

GPS Update: Today we dropped Thea off at YingHua, and since I'd put in Summit School's address, I decided to let the GPS plan the route. Bad idea, bad, bad, bad. I have a route that I'm used to (206 to I-287 to I-78). That thing had me taking 27 to a bunch of po-dunk roads to 22 and on up. The only good thing was there was a D-n-D with a drive-thru and the request for an extra light coffee came out just right - though it was miles beyond where I would have normally stopped. And driving up Route 22 and seeing signs that we were 14 miles from Newark was not terribly helpful, I'd rather NOT know how far of a trek it is.

Micah's PPD is placed. . .

. . .I had to take my big girl pill to get Micah's Mantoux test placed. It involves taking 0.1 cc of tuberculin purified protein derivative (PPD) and injecting it subdermally in the forearm, raising a little bleb. The babysitter dropped him off and I recruited one of the medical assistants and one of the front desk staff to do holding down part, and I agreed to do the deed. Every one loves the little stinker, so no one wants to be the mean person wielding the needle.

Unfortunately the MA was taking care of patients, so Earla and Mike, the husband of our assistant office manager who was at the office to finish painting, got roped into the job, Mike holding Micah on his lap and Earla holding Micah's forearm.

I actually stuck a needle into my little boy's flesh. I could have never done it to Thea (though now that I've done it to Micah, I could probably place hers.) Micah didn't cry but he had this sad, crestfallen look of "but Mommy, why?" a la Cindy Lou Who in How the Grinch Stole Christmas. The quivering lip just about did me in. Then he had another roll of Smartees from the medical assistants' snack stash and he promptly got over it. Ah, the curative powers of simple sugar with artificial colorings and flavorings.

And as of Wednesday morning, nothing's happening at the injection site. No redness, no induration, nada. 24 hours more before it can be read.

One More Hurdle Cleared. . .

Micah and I went to Summit School Tuesday for his candidacy interview, and today when we were leaving school after group, Dr. Helfman (the principal) stopped me in the hall to say that Micah's acceptance letter was sent to the school district. He's going to be in Miss Heather's classroom with a former parent-infant group friend, Ava.

So now the school district has to accept the acceptance and do whatever paperwork that entails (which should follow as a matter of course since the district set up the candidacy interview for us) and the issues of getting the paperwork processed and signed in time so that his starting date would be right on his third birthday, then setting up the transportation to make that happen.

And I need to get a Mantoux test for him, which I am not looking forward to - Micah and Thea both had BCG while still in China so there is a chance their tuberculosis tests will produce false positives which will mean that both will need chest x-rays to clear them. Thea's school hasn't made an issue of it, and it's been almost five years since she received the BCG. For Micah it's been less than two years, so he's more likely to get the big welt on his arm.

And as we're on the road to preschool, we're also working on the potty training thing. He's three for three for sitting on the potty and delivering the goods at bedtime. I'm still clipping diaper and pull-ups coupons, but I am more hopeful than I once was that Micah might get through this milestone earlier than his sister did.

The Countdown Begins. . .

Monday marks four weeks exactly until Micah turns three. Today is two weeks since we had his eligibility meeting with the Child Study Team at Orchard Hill Elementary school - and since we signed off on the 'wait and consider' portion, it's time for us to sign the official documents accepting the placement at Summit Speech School's preschool. Of course everything from the speech therapist coming this morning, taking another Friday train ride with Micah (more on that below), grocery shopping and getting my car's front tires checked out got in the way of calling the case manager until just a moment ago. And since it's Friday, the CST staff probably blew out of there the moment that the school day was over (and I don't blame them), so the voice mail will wait for Monday.

On our rides on the Dinky to Princeton Junction, Micah has positively drooled over the double-decker trains that come through on the Northeast Corridor line, so today I thought we would venture a little bit farther afield and ride from Princeton to Princeton Junction and transfer to a train going to New Brunswick and then return. NJTransit trains run fairly frequently, or so the online schedule shows.

This was the first time at the Princeton station that we actually had to wait for the Dinky, and naturally it had to be the coldest, grayest of all the days we've gone for train rides. It was a good lesson in keeping back away from the edge of the platform. ("Big owwieeeee, Mommy?" Yes, big owwie, of the Humpty Dumpty sort.) Our 'usual' conductor was back this week - he indulges Micah by giving him used tickets and encourages him to ask the driver for a chance to toot the horn.

At PJ, we climbed down the stairs, went through the tunnel under the tracks, with Micah hitting every small puddle along the way, climbed all the stairs back up to the northbound platform and waited for a few minutes for the next train. Unfortunately not a double-decker, but he seemed content to be on a new train, though confused that Mr. Usual Conductor was not the one to take his ticket on this train. The trip to New Brunswick is all of 14 minutes - which works nicely when you have the attention span of a house fly.

At NB, we had to skip the ever so convenient elevator because a man with more luggage than Ivana Trump and a nice case of psychosis to boot was unloading his ten or twelve full-size suitcases. In the station itself the escalator was out of service, so we had to schlep down the four sets of stairs, climb back up one set to go through the tunnel to get to the southbound side, and then once more get in touch with our inner mountain goat and make another trek back up. Only to find out that it was 12:20 pm and the next train wasn't due until 12:43 pm. And the Dunkin Donuts and the coffee that would keep my fingers from freezing off was back down those four flights of stairs and back toward where we had just come from.

The cool thing was that two or three Acelas and a couple of generic Amtrak trains came through the center tracks while we were hanging out, and that kept Micah occupied. The bad thing was that just as we got on the train back to Princeton, one of the double-deckers pulled into the northbound side and Micah was transfixed. He wanted to ride a B-I-I-I-I-G train, as judged by either height or number of rows of passenger windows. By his estimation a B-I-I-I-I-I-G train was not one with eight passender cars (as compared with the two car Dinky, which usually has one car closed off during the times we're riding). Size does matter, if you're Micah.

So he asked if he could ride a B-I-I-I-I-I-G train with Daddy later, as we were getting in the car. Sure, maybe Steve can deliver the goods, I'm done with trains until the temperature hits a minimum of 60 degrees Fahrenheit. I still haven't thawed out yet.

Meanwhile, at our pre-train trip run to the post office, it looked like one of my car's tires was going flat, but it was hard to tell since it was sort of parked in a puddle. At the Princeton station parking lot I was pretty sure, and by the time we were in the ShopRite parking lot I was darn sure - and the car seemed to be pulling toward the side with the bad tire. So rather than go home to have naptime for rail-riders, we had to make a run to the tire shop.

Lunar New Year - The Real Thing

The holiday on Monday was not celebrated in the traditional fashion, no hong bao (red envelopes), no new clothes, no traditional Chinese cooking, and most of all I did not bust my behind cleaning the house to welcome the new year or burning up the Kitchen God so that he would ascend to heaven and give a good report on us.

Thea did have the day off from school, so she got to hang out with Micah, Ela and me for Micah's session. She was resonably patient with Micah and only a little bit bossy (to both Micah and Ela).

After that the three of us struck out for MarketFair to have lunch and see the movie 'Hotel for Dogs' - I thought Thea might like it, and because it had dogs in it, I also thought it might hold Micah's attention for more than a few minutes. The Regal Cinema at MarketFair has stadium seating, and this became a blessing because Micah seemed to wander checking out almost all of the seats, except those occupied by two other patrons; Thea only wanted one change in seating to go up higher. My prediction that Micah would eventually fall asleep thanks to lunch and the two hour session with Ela did not pan out, not even close.

Thea liked the plot, but got a little bored thought the middle, and I think if I'd offered to bail out, both would have followed me. But for $7 a ticket for me and $6.50 for Thea (Micah was a freebie), we were sitting tight until the end. It was cute, but not exactly something I am going to rush out and buy when it's released on DVD.

By evening Thea had a little bit of a sore throat, so she got to have a mug of tea while sitting in bed listening to Chapter 15 of The Penderwicks. That was probably the best part of the day for her. Micah also seemed like he's fighting off something, he got a session with Mr. Nasal Aspirator since trying to get him to blow his nose doesn't seem to working. He makes the sound effects orally but doesn't push the air out through his nose.

This weekend we're going to try big boy underwear to try to win him over to the world of those of us who don't wear port-a-potties on our privates. He likes being naked, so maybe this will feel more naked than diapers - but he also likes going commando which is not going to happen. If I take off his diaper and turn my back for one second, he's taken to scooting away and pulling up his pants and doing a little free-ballin' happy dance.

Micah and I are going for his intake interview at Summit Speech School on Tuesday, February 3rd. The case manager/social worker from the school district called and said that the school offered three dates: 2/3, 2/5 and 2/12. I picked the first date just to get it over with - and as dumb luck would have it, the case manager (who doesn't need to be at the meeting) isn't available that day. Works for me, even though I will miss a morning at work.

Could it be this EASY?

The IEP that was written by our school district recommended sending Micah to Summit Speech School's preschool program. I saw it, in print.

I was there for the bottom line, having read all the reports, but to get there we had to hear a verbal recap of all the testing that was done from the speech therapist and the social worker/case manager, then they got down to the nuts and bolts: Summit's program is the best available for Micah's speech delay and hearing impairment.

Duh, duh and double duh. I've known that for about eighteen months, and have been having angst for at least the last six months over Micah's aging-out of the services he receives through Summit.

But the case manager did say that, of course if we wanted to keep Micah in district that they would make every accomodation for him. Right. That would be like choosing between Disneyland and the rides at the county fair, and I don't even like or ever want to go to Disney (and that's a subject for a post of a different kind. )

So to make it look like we weren't pouncing on this IEP we signed the "we've received this and have 15 days to respond" section.

And the social worker/case manager said that she knew from the first meeting that he would be going to Summit. Way to work the poker face, lady - the line I got from her was that "the district is more than able to meet his needs." Which I interpreted as, 'Bite me, you greedy fools, and abandon any hope of sending him out of district." Silly me.

So now I need to regroup, make plans that Micah will be on his way to preschool on March 2, and rework the timeline for getting his CT scan and follow-up appointment with Dr. Choe scheduled to allow him to get adjusted to his new routine.

And some poor special education/disabilities lawyer will not be getting our business.

Which as the Visa commercial says is PRICELESS.

IEP Eligibility Meeting

Today, at 11 am. The Child Study Team presents its reports. Which basically say that Micah is a sweet, inquisitive average child with a speech delay due to a conductive hearing loss.

Duh, duh and double duh.

Then we get to ride the Dinky, which is turning into a regular Friday thing.

Life is a Box of Cracker Jacks . . . .

Friday the social work at OHES left a message for me while Micah and I were out riding the Dinky and doing errands. I didn't think too much of it, so I put her on my Monday To-Do List and in between taking Thea to school and Ela arriving to work with Micah, I'd call.

She beat me to it, as I was sitting at the computer updating my Half.com account (I'd just mailed out an almost 20-year old Naguib Mahfouz paperback for the princely sum of $1.00 plus postage and handling) the phone rang.

Here's the stun gun part: She asked me if I would be willing to consider going to Summit Speech School for an intake interview for Micah. (For the bored and curious, http://www.summitspeech.com/)

Say whuh?

That's what I've wanted all along, but since the Service Coordinator at Early Intervention fired off that first horrific salvo in the battle to get Micah into the right preschool (aka "the parents want an out-of-district placement" debacle), I've been going along and getting along figuring that I'd save the going ballistic for the IEP meeting.

And here, before we even have the meeting to present the findings of the CTS testing, I'm being offered The Prize.

I was shocked. I promptly called the Parent-Infant Group coordinator at Summit to give her the news - but the district had already called the school, so she knew about 30 minutes before I did.

And - here's the punch line, the OHES social worker said to the school's executive director (Dr. Pamela Paskowitz) that Mom might take a little convincing to accept the placement.

Say whuh?

And when I talked to Miriam at Summit, I asked, if this has all be put into words, can it be taken back? I don't want to have the The Prize snatched away at the last second. She assures me it won't happen, and that if the district is placing him at Summit School, the cost of transportation will also be underwritten.

So Micah will be riding the bus (van) five mornings a week to/from Summit. Lucky for us, he's a seasoned car traveler.

I spent the morning practically spastic from joy, relief, whatever. Fortunately Ela and Micah had there own agenda so I was superfluous anyway. They made a photo book (from pictures I was up until 2 am printing, must find better photo printer), played with trains, made patterns while I fluttered in and out with supplies (tape, glue stick, paper).

Fingers crossed that I didn't wake up in some parallel universe where everything goes right, and tomorrow I wake up back in regular old New Jersey.

Wednesday

Today Micah and I are going to Summit School for group, and then on the way home we are stopping at Orchard Hill Elementary School so the Occupational Therapist can do her part of the Child Study Team evaluation schtick. This should be interesting, because he's usually asleep during the drive home, and he's not the speediest as waking up and being congenial.

Still no word on the second BAHA. I called to check on it yesterday and the audiologist said they had gotten a shipment in but she still hadn't had time to go through it. I was hoping for a message on the answering machine when I got home from work, not today. If it has come in, I'd love to be able to get it ASAP, but I don't know how that will fit with going to Summit, back to home to stop by the school, and then over to Edison. Got to check that out on randmcnally.com.

Tuesday was not a good day, Micah was upset for the last part of the drive to the babysitter's, wanting to go to "Mommy's offisssssss" - he's still in a snit that Thea went to work with me on NYE. He wants to go to "Micah school" - and the concept of tomorrow just doesn't figure into his mindset.

Coming up on the 16th, the Child Study Team is going to present its assessment to us. . . . .

Micah's CTS Evaluation (or the Non-Event Event)

Today was the 'big' day: Micah meets the Orchard Hill Elementary School Child Study Team. Going against our usual modus operandi, we were early, and left to freeze outside because the receptionist who buzzes people into the building was away from her post.

When we went to the CTS office, the secretary seemed a little surprised, not an auspicious sign, but I think they were hoping we would forget about the meeting - and they tried their best to help this along by not calling to confirm it.

Micah went off with the speech therapist and the psychologist while I got to answer the questions from two evaluation questionnaire - one of which re-asked all the questions she should have already had the answers to from our initial transition meeting. (What do you know about Micah's birth mother? What do you know about her prenatal history? With the two big, fat ZIP, ZERO, NADAs that she got there went two entire pages of one form.)

The occupational therapist was away today, so this part needs to be rescheduled, so it isn't over yet.

But today it finally seemed to dawn on the social worker, who is sort of functioning as the cog in the wheel of the evaluation process that Micah's third birthday is March 2. So instead of thinking that we have January, February and March to get his IEP up and running, the light bulb finally went off in her head (almost visibly) that we have two months NOT three. And she now has to get most of the report finished before the winter break.

Since the social worker has a newfound sense of urgency, she said she won't be able to go observe Micah at either his babysitter's or at Sound Beginnings at Summit School. I was pushing for her going to Summit, which was met with "I always get lost going there." A most lame excuse. Use MapQuest or get a GPS, dimwit.

Anyway, it's over - save for the OT portion. Micah seemed unperturbed by it all which is the most important thing to me. I think the report is going to be extremely interesting since no one familiar with hearing impairment is having any input, so even a relative novice like me should be able to dissect it easily.

Christmas is in the bag. . . .

. . .the forces in the universe, Santa included, have come together, albeit somewhat more slowly than last year, and the word from our service coordinator at Early Intervention is that Micah's second BAHA has made it through the approval process and is on its way to getting the check cut for JFK's audiology department (the audiologist will then order it from Cochlear). It may actually be on Micah's head before the end of 2008! Improved sound localization here he comes!

This is the silver version of Micah's BAHA Intenso. BAHA's are manufactured in four colors to attempt to(roughly) match the wearer's hair (for those who use it snapped onto an abutment implanted in the bone behind the ear.) Micah's BAHA is black. We aren't using the softband from Cochlear, but have a mesh headband with an adapter made by Forwerd (http://www.forwerd.net/) .

It is appropriate that the SC comes through with the good news this week - Thursday is Micah's evaluations by the Child Study Team, and the SC opened her mouth and inserted my foot when she said to the CST social worker that "the parents want an out of district placement," thus giving away our intention way before the game even had begun.

Games the School District Plays. . .

I posted on Tuesday that the school district called on the absolute last possible day before it would be out of compliance to schedule Micah's evaluation. The message was from Sharon and she left her phone number/extension and instructed me to call back and confirm that her message was received.

And so as not to appear too eager, I waited until Thursday and called. Amazingly, I had the phone number in my head and was sitting at my desk with a semi-idle minute so I dialed.

She picked up promptly, I told her I was calling to confirm the date and time that she had provided for Micah's CST evaluation.

Insert sounds of me twiddling my thumbs while being placed on hold.

And then she came back on the line and said, "Oh, but you haven't turned in the form giving permission for the evaluation."

Huh????? My jaw dropped. The form that Micah and I dropped off at 1:15 pm on October 29, 2008, handed to the receptionist (whose name I noted on my copy of the form with the date and time.)

Once the shock abated. I recapped that SHE had called ME to schedule the evaluation, so that must mean that the school is in possession of the signed form.

Insert more sounds of me twiddling thumbs while being put on hold, yet again.

Then she came back on the line and confirmed the appointment.

This is an example of a person I am supposed to entrust with the care of my child.

Fat freaking chance.

One More Hoop. . . .

. . . . yesterday the audiologist at JFK called. She is providing her part of the paperwork that will result in Micah's second BAHA, if all goes well and the approval process doesn't go beyond March 1, 2009 when Early Intervention washes its hands of us. And she needs a copy of the "Medically Cleared to Wear Hearing Aids" prescription from Dr. Choe. The one that I sent to our service coordinator more than a week ago. Don't these people talk much less share information?Sheesh.

Fortunately I am extremely neurotic about that sort of thing and I still have the originals as well as copies so I could fax it off this morning. And I've already called JFK to confirm that the fax arrived (missing the cover memo, but at least the important stuff made it.)

I am hoping that Santa Claus is going to bring us a second BAHA since it's about the only thing I want for Christmas, but I don't know if my patience is going to hold out, especially if any more roadblocks are tossed at me.

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And today the school district called (on day #19.5 of the 20 calendar days it had to respond) and left a message on our voice mail to schedule Micah's evaluation. December 18th at 10:30 am. I am wondering if the Child Study Team is hoping I'll say 'no' since I think they were told I work Tuesdays and Thursdays, and it's one week before Christmas.

Fat freaking chance, let the games begin.

At least I'll have something to talk about at group tomorrow. . . .

A Slice of Life

Tonight the kids and I were going to be on our own for dinner, and since Kraft Macaroni & Cheese (aka Kiddie Crack) two nights in a row would not be a culinary high point, I decided that we would make chicken vegetable soup tonight.

We went to the store and picked up some chicken, a bag of egg noodles and a few vegetables, to be supplemented with stuff already at home. It was going to be a group project.

Until Thea got bored with being on the sidelines because chopping celery and carrots is a Mommy job. So I thought, she's been cooking at the stove (with supervision) for more than a year, how about some simple chopping? She was interested in stepping up to the big leagues and we made it through more than half dozen carrots (the baby peeled variety) before the knife met the finger and bloodshed ensued.

She was pretty calm about it, we rinsed it, elevated, wrapped it up in a couple of bandaids and she gamely went on to cut a few more before deciding to hang her knife up and move on to sauteeing the chicken.

We changed the bandaid after we got done cooking, and it was still actively bleeding and I could see it was a small flap-type cut. So I started wondering if we should go to the Fast Track at the ER to get a little Dermabond or whatever type of skin glue that is used on kids. At the mention of the ER/hospital, Thea completely lost her composure, so I really bandaged it up well in the hopes that we could at least make it through dinner. The back of my brain was still thinking we're going to need to go to the ER, wailing or no wailing.

Needless to say, Thea didn't eat much of her soup, and resumed wailing once I again mentioned that if she was still actively bleeding through the bandage, we're going.

Fortune smiled on her and it looked pretty good. Even after peeling off three bandaids it wasn't even oozing, so we all got a reprieve. And thanks to all the emotional trauma she was falling asleep on the sofa at around 7:30, but revived after the move upstairs to our bed where she managed to watch Word Girl and Cyberchase before going to bed. Since Thea still likes one of us to stay with her until she falls asleep, Micah was left on our bed, singing himself to sleep.

Meanwhile, earlier in the day, I stopped at FedEx/Kinkos to copy the form to begin Micah's evaluation by the Child Study Team at Orchard Elementary, then handdelivered the form to the school. Ela suggested registered mail, but since we were coming home from Summit School and going right down Route 206, why give the business to the USPS? The clock starts ticking, the CTS has 90 days to schedule all of his evaluations.

We survived Round One of Transition, etc.

It was sort of uneventful, other than introducing Ela to the group. That part was sort of like bringing in the scruffy, wrong-side-of-the-tracks boyfriend to meet the upper-crusty familiy. Nothing overt was said, but the members of the Child Study Team sort of had fake, frozen pleasant expressions on their face. I was told that I could bring any material along that would help the CST understand Micah's issues. So what if the 'material' was a person?

Ela drilled them as to whether they had a Teacher of the Deaf consulting with the district on its deaf and hearing impaired students. (No, but we could get one. A non-answer, IMHO.) Ela emphasized that all the evaluations on Micah thus far have shown no cognitive or motor delays, his sole issue is the hearing impairment and its impact on his language development. (Read: don't stick Micah in a room with behavioral or physical disabilities and expect this child to emerge with a life-long love of learning.)

The same social worker, who at the end of our in-home meeting said, "Oh, he has ATRESIA, too?", was again stating that they are familiar with Micah's conductive hearing loss. That was about the time I pulled out my fake, frozen smile and just screwed it on. Yes, you deluded twits are experts based on your N=1 sample of children with atresia/microtia, and you need to know nothing about the auditory/oral program he's been in for the past year because you know it all.

Oh, just bite me or kiss my cellulitic pink tushie and we'll be done with it.

The next step will be to have the child study team evaluations done, once I sign the permission - then the school has 15 days to get the evaluations scheduled and ninety days to actually complete them.

The CST, of course, wants these done as close to his third birthday as possible, even though research supposedly shows that it doesn't make that much of a difference overall.

Considering Micah hadn't napped on the drive from the sitter's to Orchard Elementary School, he deserves points for not having a meltdown, and at the least I deserve chocholate or a pedicure with blue nail polish for maintaining the facade of cooperation - which will remain in place until we're presented with the IEP (if the IEP doesn't offer us Summit School).

Addendum: The FDA ban on importing the BAHA processors (from Sweden) has been lifted. A post yesterday on the BAHA Yahoo group passed that very, very good piece of information along. Of course I haven't heard from our Early Intervention service coordinator who I emailed a couple of days ago about Micah's second BAHA.

Addendum #2: I forgot to add that Thea survived her first visit to Dr. Andy the dentist for a filling today, which he was described to her as 'cleaning' the tooth. She's only had visits for cleaning so far, and with any luck this will be the only filling for awhile. It wasn't an actual cavity, per the dentist, but a softer area that could develop into one. Daddy did dentist duty, which Thebes will tell you is alliteration.

Addendum #3: This is a rare week because I worked a half day this week and 2/3 of Friday in addition to the usual Tuesday/Thursday. I hope the office hires a new full-time provider, NP, PA or whatever, soon. Since we're in the home stretch of Early Intervention, I am not feeling kindly toward anything interfering with Micah's services.

Fingers-crossed. . .

. . .or whatever offering of positive thoughts you would like to send my way tomorrow. It's the day Micah and I meet with the local elementary school's Child Study Team to begin the transition from Early Intervention into an IEP, if he's deemed eligible. I just hope I can be as eloquent as possible about his hearing to begin convincing them that the local preschool/disabled program is not the right fit and that the district should cough up the $55K to send him to Summit. And if that fails, say an incantation that I don't beat them smartly about the head and shoulders with the two-inch thick binder I have of Micah's reports, audiograms, hearing aid information, atresia/microtia information. I am going for that illusion that I am very well-prepared, and thankfully I'll be coming from work so I won't have on the usual schlubby-mommy clothes that I'm usually in on Wednesdays.

I am hoping that Micah will be sufficiently comatose from a shorter nap than usual so that he won't be displaying his 27+ month language ability. Tonight in the car he said "I think the horsies are sleeping. . ." If he pops a series of that sort of sentences out, we're screwed.

2 pm Wednesday. Don't be late for holding a good thought for the two for us.

My Baby is 5

This was my first birthday on a school day; last year her birthday conveniently fell on a Saturday. Thanks to Leap Year, we missed having a second weekend birthday.

Monday mornings are Ela, so after dropping Thea off at school Micah and I made a quick run to McCaffrey's for CakeMate icing. Damn cupcake icing, I forgot to put sprinkles on while they could adhere, so Plan B involved writing HAPPY BIRTHDAY THEA on them. Except that I had nothing to do that with, so time to do a drive by to the closest grocery store.

So while Ela was talking with Micah and playing with the farmer, animals and tractor, I was finding that my ultra-neat printing does not translate well when I am writing with frosting.

The best news of the day is the Ela is going to come with me to the initial meeting with the school district about Micah's transition to pre-school. Ela rocks, she truly does. It will be great having a teacher of the deaf give her perspective as to Micah's needs in a classroom. And this is the only meeting I can invite someone to attend with me, not that the school district told me that. They seem to want me alone and as unprepared as they can get me.

After waving good-bye to Ela, Micah and I loaded up the cupcakes, did a quick diaper change (made quick because I found once of the purple kitty diapers so there was no arguments; we are now fussy as to which Blues Clues character is gracing our privates), and zipped off to school. Steve, Micah and I got there as the kids were eating lunch and after everyone was finished, Thea got serenaded with Happy Birthday, first round in English, second in Chinese. Then we had cupcakes and juice pouches before they went to recess. The party bags waited until the end of the day. All in all, an easy birthday.

Tonight Thea picked roast chicken for her dinner, so she kept me company while I was finishing dinner. Oma called to wish her a happy birthday, and when they were done talking I heard Thea say to her, "Would you like to talk to your DAUGH-ter?" Five is a riot, so far.