The good news is, Maura has the same teacher as last year. So she is wise to my ways, no warning is needed.
However, I can admit, I am thaaaaaaat parent.
Which is different from THAT parent.
Let me explain…
THAT parent is a term in the special ed world for those parental units who come in with their heads slightly spinning, flames shooting out their ears, quoting educational laws while working very hard to refrain leaping over a table or saying “Are you fucking kidding me?”
I’ll admit, at one point in Maura’s educational career, I morphed into THAT parent. But I earned that title when the special ed director told me she didn’t need my signature on the IEP, I didn’t have to sign it…after a long year of this woman treating me like I was demanding unicorns and limousines for my daughter when I asked for seizure training for staff (who were like “Um, yes, please”) and a proper emergency health plan.
I know. I’m so unreasonable.
So yeah, I turned into THAT parent. It’s a bit like Bruce Banner going Hulk. It’s ugly and not fun for anyone involved, but sometimes, it’s necessary.
However, I’m really more thaaaaaaat parent.
Let me explain…
Thaaaaaaat parent is the one who has been in the world of IEPs and interrupted sleep and has watched the same episode of The Muppet Show, with very special guest star, Sandy Duncan, about 389 times that week.
You’re tired and maybe a bit socially awkward, and definitely hopped up on the caffeine of your choice. You’re not quite fit for human consumption, and you toy between realizing you’re in desperate need of getting out into more normal company and knowing you probably shouldn’t be allowed in polite company because you might talk about poop or your theory about Dora the Explorer.
After years of jumping through flaming hoops and having nonsensical arguments with your offspring over underwear, thaaaaaaat parent has definitely cracked up a bit. Add some natural sarcasm and lack of organization, and I’m sure I’m a joy to work with for some school staff. I mean, I’m the gal who at the last IEP meeting spilled an almost full grande latte across the table. I did manage to only get myself, and restrained myself from sucking the coffee out of my jeans.
And when presented with 193 school forms to fill out every year, I get ridiculous. I may also want to see who’s paying attention, or give them a laugh. Because if we can’t laugh at the sometimes ridiculousness of our lives, well, what’s the point.
That’s why, in filling out an information form for Maura, I did this –
See? thaaaaaaat parent.
Meanwhile, as I was trying to organize my kitchen/dining room yesterday, I found a crumpled up sheet of paper with words on it. I smoothed it out and saw it was the “student technology equipment user agreement”. You know, the form I sign to allow the school to give my kid a laptop for the year, promising we won’t swim with it or eat the keys, and if we do eat the keys, we have to pay for the cost of new keys? The form I totally signed for one child?
I looked at it and thought “Hmm…I bet this is Maura’s.”
I checked my email later on that day and find a note from Maura’s teacher about how she sent home a new form, can I please sign it and return it so Maura can get her laptop?
I replied with “Hey, found a crumpled up one just today myself! Haha! I’ll send the form back in tomorrow.” Took the form out of Maura’s backpack, along with her student planner they give every student and we use for communication.
This morning, I go to sign the form…and can’t find it. I check around, and still can’t find it. I do find the crumpled copy though, and went “Well, it’ll do.”, signed it, stuck it in Maura’s folder, which I then put in Maura’s backpack…and wondered “Hmm…planner’s missing…”
But since we’re playing “guess how early the bus will be today?” this week (13 minutes from time we were told, four minutes earlier than yesterday) I threw the backpack at Maura and she ran to the bus. Emailed the teacher from my phone that she was getting the crumpled version back because I lost the new form.
Then sat down at my desk. Checked Facebook. Sipped on coffee. Moved my keyboard a little. And found the form and planner just there. Under my keyboard. Where I’d surely notice it.
So yeah. I’m thaaaaaaat parent. I warn the school I’m thaaaaaaat parent. Not that they couldn’t guess after I showed up at the IEP with green hair, spilling coffee everywhere.
It’s okay. Better to be thaaaaaaat parent than have to be THAT parent.
Post script – I love Maura’s school and the people who work with her. They are not only great with her, but great with me, lol! We’re very lucky to be in such a fantastic situation.