I'm stressed. I didn't think I was - I really didn't! But, I've been having trouble sleeping (both going to sleep and staying alseep) which means I'm stressed. Even if I didn't know it.
First there's Elliot. He's a great, bright, funny kid. But he's got some mild sensory integration issues that I don't know how to handle. Well, that's not quite true. Within our household, we adapt to his needs pretty easily. What stresses me out is dealing with the school system. His issues aren't severe enough to warrant a special ed plan, so schools aren't (in general) going to go out of their way to accommodate him. Not when there are *so many* kids out there designated "special needs" that the schools are mandated to accommodate. That's fine for kids with true special needs, but I don't like it when kids are labeled as such just for a different style of learning (which definitely happens around here). It seems like any child who doesn't conform to the narrowly defined "normal" is put on a special ed plan because the school systems, and the state, no longer allow teachers the flexibility to treat all their kids as individual learners with unique (but still normal) ways of learning.
I think Elliot has some sensory issues, but not enough to require special intervention by the schools. Which means he's going to be on one of those margins where the schools aren't mandated to do anything to help him, but we'll all be miserable if they don't. So we're at the mercy of individual schools and teachers. And I hate that. And I don't know if a private school would be better suited for him (though that would mean me going right back to work instead of back to school first). I don't know what to do.
And DH is working insane hours (home at midnight or later) so I've been a single parent - even more than usual - this week. At least his deadline is over with next week and then his time should loosen up again.
And then there's me. I'm facing skull surgery this summer because my tumor (acoustic neuroma) is growing faster than expected. I knew this was coming, but I thought I had more time to decide what to do. Which meant I could ignore the whole thing and pretend it didn't exist. But now I can't. Until last week, I could avoid thinking about *surgery* and what that means for my boys, even if everything goes as well as possible (I can't even contemplate what happens if things don't go well!). And I know we have tons of family and friends who will all generously be there to help with everything (babysitting, groceries, laundry, errands, etc.) during my 6 week recovery. But it's still scary. I mean, this is all because I have a tumor in my head! (Well, technically, in my ear canal but growing into my head.) Not something you like to think about. And now I'm being forced to.
No wonder I'm taking a Benadryl to help me sleep at night. Sheesh.