It's always something. Yesterday I completed my nervously anticipated interview with the social worker on my son's child study team with flying colors, leaving her the impression of a great kid and a happy family, and when we were done I walked down the hall to drop off some paperwork with the child study team leader. I was surprised but happy to see my daughter's aide in the office there with her, because I rarely get a chance to speak with the woman and had a couple of things I wanted to mention. But alas, the aide was in that office because she was unhappy with what was going on in the classroom, concerned about the directions the teacher was giving her for working with my daughter and unsure about things she was being asked to do. Plus, now, panicked that it might be perceived that she was taking a secret meeting with me. You know, me, the parent, the one that must by all means NOT be allowed free and open communication with people who work directly with my child. The horror!

 

We talked for a while, the three of us, with frequent nervous glances at the open door, and I heard things that annoyed me -- requests I thought I had communicated clearly being completely misinterpreted; things that concerned me -- the kind of excess help for my daughter that I had again and again and AGAIN asked that she not receive; and things that made me think that all of this really had more to do with classroom politics, personalities and the mismanaging of inclusion in our district and state than it did with my actual child and self. I'm clinging to that last one, because it's late in the year and I really don't want to have to start ticking people off again now. Can't we just get through fourth grade? Please? I can only handle one set of stressful Child Study Team interactions at a time, and this year it's my son's turn. But as we know, in the land of special ed, Nothing Is Ever Easy.