mickeym: (my friends have made my life)
I'll start this by saying I did my kid a huge disservice last semester, by doing a lot of his math homework for him. Even when he was sitting with me, watching me do the problems, I was the one working through them. I'm pretty sure the only reason he passed the 055 class (lowest remedial, basic math) is because his professor let him bring copies of two of the tests home to redo them -- and again, Matthew sat with me, but I did the bulk of the work.

He's in 065 this semester, which he has to have if he wants to pursue the diesel tech diploma, and if he wants to get a degree in either the diesel tech OR carpentry/construction, he'll have to go even higher. But I figure that's a problem for another day.

Right now, as of this date, in the 065 class, he's 100% on the homework and quizzes -- because they're online and at least in the case of the homework he can work the problems through until he gets 100%. The quizzes he's allowed two tries. With me helping, doing the bulk of the work, he's got the points there. But his first actual test grade -- even with two pages, front and back, of allowed notes -- he scored a 5%. Yeah. Five percent.

I told him from the get-go that if I helped him out with homework and quizzes, he still had to concentrate and get at least a 60% on each exam, in order to pass the class. That first exam score isn't exactly reassuring, and actually is going to make it harder, since he'll have to score even higher on the upcoming exams.

As far as I can tell -- and I plan to go to the school tomorrow to get Matthew and I in to see a guidance counselor to be sure -- if he pursues the carpentry/construction diploma he doesn't have to have any math beyond what he took last semester. This is what the checklist document says, when I pull it up:

Area 1 = Written Communication, Oral Communications, Humanities, or Heritage (3 credits)
Area 2 = Social/Behavioral Sciences, Natural Sciences, WPP 200, EFM 100, or Quantitative Reasoning (3 credits)

So, one class for each of those two areas, to be taken from any of the sections allowed. He could continue with math if he wanted, but it's not required.

He's struggling so much right now, and we're stressing each other out over and over with this. I've suggested the math lab for tutoring, or even the adult education center that he goes to for reading/writing stuff, but all he says is "I hate math, I don't want to do it". He doesn't seem to understand that if he won't do it, he's going to fail, and that will mess up his GPA and his chances for financial aid. I told him it's better to withdraw from the class now, than to get a failing grade. His GPA is a 2.0, but it wouldn't take much to nudge it down.

Am I wrong for suggesting he withdraw? I told him that if it turns out he does need the math, whether it's for the diploma track he's on right now, or if he decides to go for a degree, or whatever... he can take it another time.

I'm honestly starting to wonder if this was a good idea, pushing college. I don't know if he can do it. I'm not sure if he can. I don't want to sound defeatist or anything, but I'm sure feeling that way right now.

As always, advice, suggestions, hugs, whatever... always welcome.

ETA: Here's the checklist for the carpenter/construction diploma, if anyone wants to see it: http://apps.elizabethtown.kctcs.edu/advisors/docs/Construction_Technology/Construction_Carpenter_Diploma/checklist/checklist.pdf

fun times!

Jun. 1st, 2011 11:31 am
mickeym: (spn_there's no such thing as unicorns?!)
Whereby 'fun' is code for 'again? seriously?':

While watching television last night, one of the ads that came on was for the "His and Hers KY" (or whatever it's called). Of course that prompted the question from Matthew, "what's that stuff for?"


The next fun question came about an hour later, preceded by the hair-raising prelude, "Mom, can I ask you a personal question about sex?"

*mentally steels self* Of course.

"Why would someone think it's not...good, that they don't enjoy...masturbating?"

*raises an eyebrow* "Well..."

That led to a twenty minute discussion about why someone might not enjoy self-pleasuring, including feeling guilty about it. When I told Matthew that a lot of people feel guilty about touching themselves because they're raised to believe that sex/nakedness/whatever is bad or wrong, he said, "why would anyone think that?"

Oh, Matthew.

So he said to me, "is that why you always answer my questions, because you don't want me to think I can't ask something?" I told him yes. No matter if the questions are embarrassing to me, it's worth it if it means he's not going to grow up thinking there's anything wrong with something that's natural and normal. Which of course led to more questions and discussion about the Victorian Era, and how it's only been thirty years or so since Homosexuality was removed from the DSMV as a mental illness.

Randomly: how many Pirates of the Caribbean movies are they going to make?? There's another one coming out shortly. That makes, what, four? Five?

Okay. Back to writing. I *will* finish this story today, or die trying. *nods determinedly*
mickeym: (spn_jared bearded and beautiful)
Was sitting at the kitchen table with my son, going through the course selections for next year. His JUNIOR YEAR IN HIGH SCHOOL.

So, after that moment of freaking out, we got back on track. Next year's class choices/requirements: English III, Geometry, Chemistry, US History (those are the requirements). Electives will be Shop (large engines), Military history (modern), Team Winter Sports, Computer Tech and Emergency Procedures.

A rather eclectic group of classes isn't it? I wanted him to do JROTC since he talks quite a bit about wanting to join the military, but he said he doesn't want to have to "spend" the whole year. (Each school year at his school is divided into three terms; the JROTC class would be what they call an A/B/C class--all three terms. The required classes are all A/B, and most electives are either A/B or A OR B.)

Anyway. Junior. I'm feeling kind of old tonight. o_O Hopefully some of y'all are too, those of you who remember me talking about having to change the baby *g*
mickeym: (spn_jared seriously?)
Matthew informed me last night, as we were watching television, that Jo (Harvelle) and Kono would make a really hot, really awesome couple. Then he said, "you should write that".

Yeah, let me get right on that. *headdesk*

Why is this my life, people? Seriously.
mickeym: (misc_calvin is horrified)
'This' being the chance to laugh at me *g* I know [livejournal.com profile] raynedanser is probably still snorting and giggling.

The latest in the serial of sex-and-Matthew: )
mickeym: (misc_uniparent: what's your super power?)
I'm so tired I opened up the "post an entry" page and then just sat here, staring at it. Yeesh.

Day started out with Matthew telling me -- AS WE WERE GETTING READY TO GO TO THE POST OFFICE -- that one of the kids invited/coming is allergic to chocolate. Please keep in mind that Matthew has known for a *week* that I was going to make the Texas Sheetcake for him...and they don't come much chocolate-ier. So after the post office, back we went to Kroger, to get a cake. *headdesk*

Of the 11 or 12 kids invited, five showed up. Several more had told Matthew they were coming, but didn't. And no one called my number to RSVP. Does no one do that any more? Or am I just old enough to think people are being rude if they don't, when asked?

One girl, of the three or four who were invited, came. Poor thing, I felt bad for her, because the boys were all "let's wrestle! let's toss around a football! Hey, isn't XYZ video game awesome?!" She held her own in Balloon Volleyball, though *g*

The one boy who came who is NOT a part of the gruesome threesome (Avery, Justin and Eric)...well. He's a sweet little boy (and I'm not kidding when I say 'little'. If he's five feet tall, I'd be surprised, and he was telling the other kids he weighs about 80lbs -- and he's 15). I've met him several times before; Matthew's had special ed classes with him since the 6th grade. I don't know what his diagnosis is; I know he has a severe speech impediment that makes it really difficult to understand him, and he's hyperactive in a way that reminds me of Matthew, when Matthew was like, five or six. Anyway. Sweet kid, but he can wear on you after a while because he is so *in your face* about everything that it gets to be wearying.

Matthew's really good with him, though he did come to me once *quietly* and say that he was getting to be too much, so I said I would have him call his folks in another 10, 15 min. Meanwhile, Justin starts making some not very nice comments about the kid's speech and hyperness, and man. That shit just ain't gonna fly. Not in my house. (There were a few times the question of 'gay' came up, because Justin and Matthew joke constantly about being the other's boyfriend, etc., and C would yell, "that's DISGUSTING!", and I told him that wasn't allowed in my house. He could think it if he wanted, I have no control over that. But it's not disgusting and I won't tolerate that being said.) ANYWAY. Justin made some comments, so I had to call him in to me and tell him that was uncalled for and equally unacceptable...not to mention just plain NOT NICE.

Tomorrow, we will have a longer discussion about accepting people as they are, and not making fun of any physical or mental challenges they might face. Justin's told me he feels safe and comfortable at my house, and I need him to understand that I want all of Matthew's friends to be able to feel that way here.

Mickey wasn't able to make it after all; she's had uber-bad sinus problems this week, and she ended up getting a really bad noseblood while at the pharmacy picking up prescriptions for said sinus. She called me to tell me she had to go home to change, and by then it was already close to 2:30 -- I told her at that rate it'd be nearly 4 before she got here, and why doesn't she come down tomorrow instead, since we're ordering WWE's Survivor Series pay-per-view (Matthew's bday present from me).

And now? I'm going to take some benadryl to insure I don't wake up until like, NOON, and go to bed. Because I am DONE. Stick a fork in me. I will answer comments tomorrow, too. But first, sleep. Goodnight, LJ.
mickeym: (misc_i heart somebody with aspergers)
One way to ensure me freaking out is to text me an unintelligible message, asking 'what do I do mom', and then NOT ANSWER WHEN I CALL YOU BACK.

I've called him three times, I've texted him twice, I've called Doug's phone twice and got voice mail, and I've texted the gf's phone. NO ONE IS ANSWERING. ANYWHERE.

No love,

Your very worried mother

Fuck me, I do not need to be panicking at 12:30 in the morning when it's most likely nothing worth panicking over.

And yet.


ETA: Oh, thank God. Matthew texted me again, and then called and everything's okay. *collapses*
mickeym: (spn_silly boys)
Matthew's copy of "Halo Reach" arrived via Fed Ex this afternoon. He managed to make it almost 45 minutes before caving in and opening it. I predict I won't be seeing much of my child for a while.

Ah, the lonely life of a mother of a gamer. ;)

(Also, I am so very, very behind on answering comments, but I will get to them. THANK YOU to everyone who cheered for/with me.)
mickeym: (misc_i heart somebody with aspergers)
Overslept today -- as in, forgot to set my alarm. Matthew woke me up at 730, because Justin called him saying "where are you?" Thankfully the bus doesn't come until 740, so we had time to scramble for meds, clothes, shoes, etc., but OI.

I went back to bed and really kind of wish I hadn't. I had the most horrible dream about Matthew. First, he was in school and I was meeting with his counselor about classes, and he had no friends and was struggling with classes. The counselor said to me, "he has zero percent in [whatever in the dream, I can't remember now what it was] and I'm so sorry we missed this, we have to fix it". The it morphed, as dreams do, to him being taken in by cops for questioning for violating a restraining order (?!), and it morphed again and suddenly he wasn't a teenager like he'd been, but a little little kid that the cops were still looking at like he was something they'd find under their shoe. I said something about Aspergers, and one of them says to me, "you shouldn't have said that to us, now we HAVE to arrest him", and gah.

The dream was awful, with my hysterically trying to get ahold of my mom, and keep hold of Matthew who wanted to explore this house we were in, and I was afraid he was going to break something (breakable things everywhere) and then we'd both be arrested. Ugh. I woke up all panicked and freaked out, and still kind of feel that way.

I'm also still really sleepy -- having a hard time waking up, period -- and can't decide if I should go downstairs and load the dishwasher, or if I just want to crawl back into bed and sleep (hopefully withOUT awful dreams!) for a little while longer. Three guesses which way I'm leaning; the first two don't count.
mickeym: (misc_mother and child)
I came across this link while reading my flist -- thank you, Carys. I'm actually still crying a little, eyes still tearing up, not only because a child, little more than a baby, is dead...but for the societal contributions to the man who killed him.

What it Says About Us When a 17-Month-Old Boy Is Beaten to Death for "Acting Like a Girl"

It's still early in the investigation and there are naturally more questions than answers at this point. Doubtless, facts and details will emerge about Pedro Jones along with the very real possibility that he endured horrors of his own that helped craft what he later became. It's too early to paint him as a monster, or at least as a one-dimensional monster. With few exceptions, monsters are made, not born. They are still monsters, but they are carved with the hurtful blows of many sharp chisels, over many years.

At the very least, his own violent psychopathology notwithstanding, someone, somewhere, taught Pedro Jones that the worst thing a little boy can do is act like a girl. In the end, it matters precious little when or where he learned it, because a 17-month-old toddler ultimately paid a terrible price for that lesson.

On Sunday night, his little body wracked by agony, blackened with bruises, beaten within an inch of his life, gasping for breath in a world suddenly full of more pain than he could bear, his little light flickered and vanished into the darkness.

When Matthew was born, I bought him toys I thought he would enjoy playing with. I didn't care if they were gender-specific or gender-neutral: he had trucks and stuffed animals, a couple dolls, books and games. I was looking to stimulate his mind and help him grow, not worrying about if he "should" or "shouldn't" play with something. When he cried, I comforted him. He had a pacifier until he was nearly three, and I only got rid of it because I was more concerned with it affecting his teeth than if it made him seem "weak" "babyish" etc. He still has a blankie, and stuffed animals on his bed. When he was four or five, Matthew started being interested in cooking and "house stuff". Doug grumbled, but we bought him one of those little play kitchens, and a toy vacuum cleaner. I found a high chair for one of the dolls, and for a couple of years Matthew cooked and cleaned and fed his baby -- in between racing remote controlled cars with his dad, or smashing hotwheels together, or playing good guy/bad guy. I remember very distinctly sitting at the dining room table during a visit with Doug's brother, and Matthew telling Uncle Dan that he loved him, and wanted to marry him, and Dan saying something to the effect of "boys can't marry boys" -- and me telling Dan that Matthew was a very young child who was just expressing his love for his Uncle, it had nothing to do with being a boy, etc. He said the same thing once about a little boy he was friends with in daycare -- and I practically had to gag Doug in order to explain that Matthew was just expressing he liked his friend; it had nothing to do with anything else -- and SO WHAT IF IT DID.

I've never told my son, "boys can't do X" or "only boys should do X". When he said to me once that he shouldn't cry because he's a guy, I said that was BS. Crying happens if we're hurt or overwhelmed or happy -- and emotions aren't limited to gender. If you need to cry, cry. There's nothing to be gained by not crying, and feeling like you can't do it because of your gender? Stupid. As is anyone who tells you you can't express yourself by crying.

I am so saddened for the young woman who lost her son to a brutal attack that happened because our society is so hung up on gender, and what's appropriate or not for that gender. How do you even assign appropriate/not appropriate to the behavior of a 17mo old child? How the hell can ANYONE say a child that young is acting "effeminate" (or masculine, or anything else)? At that age, most kids are just starting to put a couple words together, and are still happy with big, colored blocks, or balls, or Barney the Dinosaur. They're BABIES. There's nothing feminine, masculine, etc., about a child that age. They haven't developed enough to show those traits.

I'm going to read this article to Matthew later, and then I'm going to hug him tight and be very thankful he's alive and well, and comfortable enough with himself to still snuggle with his blankie, or cry in front of me when he needs to, and to confide in me the couple of guy-crushes he has. And I'm going to say a prayer for the children growing up in this world, that we're able to change ideals and thinking before it's too late.
mickeym: (pop_a group of pretty boys)
Matthew is playing Nsync music vids on YouTube right now. Of his own volition, no encouragement from me. (Currently we're listening/watching "God Must Have Spent".)

He played "Tearin' Up My Heart" a few minutes ago, and when seductive!jailbait!Justin came on, Matthew sat up straighter and said, "Hello!"

Hah. At least HIM perving on 16yr old Justin isn't illegal :)
mickeym: (misc_i heart somebody with aspergers)
Update on the sunburn: it's actually a lot worse than I initially thought. I mean, it's healing now, not as bad as it was Thursday evening/night, but if I had to guesstimate, I'd put it at somewhere between first and second degree burn, probably edging close to the second degree. At least along his shoulders and at the top of his back. I noticed tonight, probably because I made him kneel down so it was easier to put lotion on him, that the skin there is actually bubbled a little. Not full-on blistered, but damn close, and I'll be keeping a close eye on it. Meanwhile he's taking cool showers, and we're alternating solarcaine and lotion applications, and alternating tylenol and advil, and the kid is probably close to drowning, I'm pushing so much water and gatorade on him. He's sleeping a lot, too, which is good. (It kind of freaked me out Friday, he LAID DOWN FOR A NAP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE AFTERNOON. O_O)

I told him it's critical that he stay out of the sun probably for the next week, because any more burn on top of what he has probably would result in blisters. "So?" he asked, and I told him blisters can break and leave exposed raw skin/open sores, which can lead to infection. He didn't like the sound of that. He also didn't argue with me, so I think...maybe...he's learned a lesson from this.

Also, the job interview went well enough (have I mentioned lately how much I loathe group interviews? Or committee, whatever they're called? Ugh). I have another one Monday, different office (different county, even).

Because of all the assorted uncomfortable topics flying around LJ and fandom this past week, Matthew and I had some incredible conversations. )
mickeym: (misc_smiling cat you should be scared)
I have a job interview tomorrow. Or, well, today (Friday), at 11a CST. Which is...a little less than nine hours away.

Why, you might ask, am I not sweetly sleeping in preparation? Because my child chose today (er, Thursday) to decide I knew ABSOLUTELY nothing at all about spending time in the sun, and resultant (often bad) sunburns.

His back and shoulders right now are fire-engine red, poor kid. His chest, belly, face and forearms aren't quite as bad, but still red. He's complaining of nausea and a headache, and I've been pushing fluids all night--finally went to Walgreens a couple hours ago and got some solarcaine (gel AND spray) and a load of gatorade. He got some sun Wednesday; not a bad burn, just enough to make his shoulders twinge if he moved too fast or bumped against something. I told him not to go out in the sun again today; if he went to the gym, to stick with working out inside and not go to the pool.

Did he listen? Oh, hell, no. Not only did he not listen, but he didn't reapply sunscreen as often (or well) as he should've, and he was at the gym for four hours. Probably most of it outside. *headdesk*

I told him I love him, but he's an idiot *g* He said "I was stupid, doing this." I said I wasn't going to disagree, and that I hadn't spent the last week or so expounding on the damage too much sun can do just to hear myself talk. NO ONE used sunscreen much when I was growing up, and even in Phoenix I seldom used it, my teen years. There were many days I had to wear my swimsuit under my clothes to school, because I couldn't put a bra on over the burn. I had sun poisoning at least twice, probably three times. I've had a burn once that was bad enough it blistered (you would think I'd have clued in sooner, and you would be wrong). My aunt and my sister have both had "suspicious" growths removed from their skin; I've been lucky so far.

Matthew's miserable enough right now that I think -- hope -- he's learned his lesson. He's an awful lot like me, though, and often I've had to repeat the same painful lesson more than once before finally getting it. In any case, I told him he's not going outside, period, until at least Sunday--and even that's not a guarantee.

I'm going to see how he's doing in the morning before I head off to Grayson County. I don't want to have to ask to reschedule, but if he's too sick, I'm not going to leave him here alone. With luck he'll be okay enough that it won't be an issue. *crosses fingers*

And now I think I'll head to bed. Sleepy :)

*Bonus points if you know where I got the 'Ladles and gentlemints' from :)
mickeym: (misc_i love you)
Anyone who reads this journal even semi-regularly knows my stance on talking to my kid and sharing information. I keep it to small bites at a time, since his attention span is only about <> big, and I keep it age-appropriate, but I feel -- always have -- that I'm not doing him any favors by shielding him from stuff, no matter what that 'stuff' might be, or how unpleasant it might be.

I sat down tonight with Matthew, and talked to him about what all went on this weekend, and why I was inordinately cranky and withdrawn. I'd flip-flopped on whether or not I was going to say anything, but one of the skits on RAW tonight (yes, wrestling twice a week *g*) involved one of the wrestlers getting up into a woman's face and doing the whole physical intimidation thing. The woman is not a popular character (most people boo and yell whenever she appears), and there were no doubt a bunch of different things the writers were intending to get a reaction for, but after an entire weekend-plus of discussions and comments and posts about non-consensual things, and sexual assault, and survivor stories... it was too much. Add to that was Matthew sitting there chanting, "do it! do it! do it!", and I told him to turn off the TV and get comfy, because we were going to talk.

I laid it all out for him. Gave him the background info, explained the differences between professional conventions and fan-run cons, and about safe fannish space etc., and then told him what went down, as people pieced events together. Explained to him how I wouldn't bring him with me any more, like I did in '08, because he's too much a guy now, and I wouldn't do that to my fellow con-goers. I told him about my experience with sexual assault and why I'm so adamant that he needs to wait a while longer yet before having sex. I told him I expect him to be a responsible, caring person if he ever EVER sees a woman (anyone really, but the focus of this conversation was women, natch) in trouble or if he suspects she might be in trouble. "I don't like to get involved in stuff that's not my business," he said, and I told him it was his responsibility in certain situations TO get involved. Call the cops, make sure the people don't leave. Whatever it takes.

Asked him if he would get involved if it was Ruby or Sophie (his cousins), and he said yes. I said that every woman is someone's sister, cousin, aunt, mother...and every woman deserves nothing less than to know someone will come to her aid if she needs it, and not just if someone is taking advantage of her sexually, but in any way. (Had to tie it back into why the skit on RAW upset me so much.) That it is NEVER OKAY for anyone to intimidate anyone else, or make them feel afraid or uncomfortable, and unfortunately it happens a lot with guys intimidating women.

This wasn't the first time we've discussed this, and it won't be the last time, but each time I think he gets a little better understanding (I hope) of what it means for a woman to have to navigate her way through what is still, in so many ways, a man's world -- and the dangers we face every day, doing so. I'm hoping to instill in him a sense of responsibility to look out for people in general, because it's the right thing to do.

And now, I think I'm going to go collapse. What a bunch of days this has been, hasn't it? *dies*
mickeym: (misc_jeff hardy badass motherfucker)
On my kid. God.

He says to me, "I'm going to go for a walk outside and cool down" -- it's cool(er) and breezy outside, so fine. Checks his pocket, says "I have my phone" and then grabs something out of his desk drawer. I get a glimpse of something small/red and ask him, "what's in your pocket?" He says "my wallet". I ask again, he says, "just a note from Mallory I'm going to read". I tell him I know it's not wallet or note, what's in his pocket. Turn his pockets out. He stands in the doorway saying, "it's nothing, it's nothing, it's nothing". I reached in his pocket myself and fished out a lighter.

So, asked him where the cigarettes are and he says "I don't have any". I told him I don't believe him -- and I don't. When he came back in, I made him turn off his phone and his computer -- he lied twice, so he gets two items taken away. He sat on the couch and pouted and tried to tell me that he would've gotten in trouble regardless, for having the lighter. I said all I would've done was make you throw it away; it's the lying he's in trouble for, and then he growls, "that's ME, you can't change ME". *headdesk* Then when I asked him to "throw your trash away" (from dinner) he looked at me and said "no". So I told him again to do it, and then sent him up to his room.

The funniest thing is that we went to the bank earlier, and on the way home he says to me, "have you noticed my attitude lately?" I started laughing and said Oh, boy, have I noticed his attitude; it changes so often I'm surprised he doesn't have whiplash. Absolutely, I notice his attitude, it's in my face all the time. Grrr.

Infanticide is still illegal, right?

oh, my GOD

Apr. 24th, 2010 07:57 pm
mickeym: (spn_there's no such thing as unicorns?!)
I hope there's someone out there in LJ-land who will come bail my ass out of jail when I KILL MY FREAKING KID.



I've said no more overnights for a while. I got roped into having Avery here last weekend, and told Matthew afterward that was it until further notice. So what does he do this weekend? "Can Avery spend the night? He's already here and it's raining out." "No." Two hours later, "Can Justin spend the night? (Avery's gone home) He's stuck here from the rain." "No." "PLEASE?" "No." "Why not?" "The reason hasn't changed; I don't want anyone spending the night." "PLEEEEEEASE? I don't have anyone to talk to, nothing to do but my playstation." (Meaning no XBox Live since XB is broken.) "NO. OMG DON'T BRING IT UP AGAIN YOU'RE OLD ENOUGH TO UNDERSTAND NO." "Oh my god FINE."

Jesus. KIDS.
mickeym: (misc_i heart somebody with aspergers)
These aren't the greatest pictures -- I took them with my cellphone -- but they're pretty good at showing the ginormous kid he's turned into :)


Two more behind the cut. )
mickeym: (misc_hardy boyz facing off)
Oh, funnest moment I've had in AGES: making Matthew go fetal and whining through his teeth while I name the wrestlers I find hot ;)
mickeym: (Default)
Man, I'd forgotten how YOUNG both boys look in S1. I'm just today catching SPN on TNT, and it's the season ender...and wow. So young, still so innocent and unaware of what's coming. *pets boys* Interesting, too, how Dean says to Sam, "I'll be the one to bury you," when he's calling Sam on how bent on revenge Sam and John both are. Makes me wonder if S1!Dean would've made the same decision to sell his soul as S2!Dean did.

In other words, [livejournal.com profile] kaiz, I made an appointment. Tomorrow at 1030a. I really don't wanna go, but I promised, so.

Had Matthew's IEP meeting today. I had no idea, but Kentucky public schools don't require foreign language as a graduation requirement. Thank GOD. He has enough trouble with English. Oi. Still having trouble getting him to accept/use some of the things he could to make things easier on him (and everyone else). He doesn't want to use the Alpha Smart keyboard--doesn't want to seem different or stand out, and I get that, but. So, we're going to talk again; couldn't do it in the meeting because wow. Get my kid in a room with me and several teachers, and no more happy-go-lucky Matthew, I get sullen!boy.

We have to start talking about his classes for next year, because he has to pick them at the end of this month (ALREADY??). His spec ed case manager is suggesting he take a semester of JROTC, since he's expressed some interest in the military. It'll be a good way for him to suss out if the interest goes deeper, without, y'know, having to enlist for several years.

And now to start answering comments and emails. :)


mickeym: (Default)

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