She stood next to me, "Well how is she today?"

In that condescending voice that made me wanna hurt somebody.

Miss C had had a day straight out of hell the day before, again. It literally took two people to grab her by her arms and legs and drag her up to her classroom. She ripped my necklace, bit my arm and scratched at my face like a rabid cat. I decided it was in my best interest to pick her up instead of letting her get on the bus, and it was a good call, since when I got there, she was still rabid.

Her teachers are concerned; they need an emergency meeting with me. Fantastic. I’m all for it.

Flash forward to this morning again:

So, the Autism Program Director was waiting for my answer…

“She’s good, she’s happy”.

“You see, we are concerned. Something needs to be done”.

“I’m working on it. I’ve been all week hoping from office to office, trying to get her back on track, on Monday I’m seeing a specialist about some natural supplements”.

“I’m sorry, even though I do respect your opinion; I do think that Miss C is in need for something more serious”.
“Such as?”

“Well, you know that 90% of the children in the Autism Program at this school are medicated”.

90%!!!!!!!!!!!!! I thought.

“Well, I am her mother and I am looking out for her best interests. I will try to use all other options before medicating her. She doesn’t have any therapies lined up, since all her therapists have resigned due to lack of payment on the Department of Education’s behalf, she’s in a group with more children, it’s a hard time for all of us. Her behavior isn’t horrible every single day…it’s just very inconsistent”.

“Well, I believe you should see a neurologist about some meds”.

“First of all, her neurologist doesn’t believe she has anything to begin with, and now I have a crappy government medical insurance that is a bitch to get into any specialists”.

“Well, fact is, she is disrupting our class, and it’s intolerable at times. I know she has great potential but...”

“But she should be numbed out? Because your staff, that is supposed to know how to deal with these kids, can’t? I am not knocking out the possibility of meds, but for now you need to let me do what I’m doing, because believe me, I’m not sitting at home watching novellas. It is hard on us all and if I had a magic wand that would make it all go away I would, but I don’t. Have a little patience; because I know that once she gets her therapies started and some supplements going, things will change.”

She added: “Well I need you to work with us, we are using a little chart, and you can ask the teacher…”

I interrupted…

“A behavioral modification chart, with prizes? The same one I brought to school to use in Kinder that everyone loved?, the same one I used for toilet training almost 2 years ago?”

“Um, yes”

“I know the chart, I have three of them at home…”

Uncomfortable silence.

“Well then, if you need anything...”

“I know where to find you”.

She left.
The nerve.

I’m not the lazy sit on her ass mom. I’m out there, writing letters, calling/visiting offices, talking to specialists, teachers…with my limited time and income, I’m still doing what I need to do, so don’t tell me you prefer to have my kid medicated just because you don’t wanna deal with it. Our kids ain’t perfect and not everything is gonna run smoothly every single day.
My kid will get better and I’m taking all the credit.

And for once in my life, I’m gonna get churchy and over all diagnosis, over all suggestions and words of you folk (you ‘specialists’ at school), I’m putting the mother of diagnosis over it all, the diagnosis of my Lord, my God, our God, the one who put his son on the Cross not only so that we can be saved, but so that we can be healed.

So take that lady…and RESPECT the MOMMA!

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