Just a wee vent... this has been the *worst* week in memory, even stretching back to the worst of the difficult child days. It's all little stuff, most of it your basic problem solving kind of thing, but I seem to be severely impaired. Boo's script not signed by doctor, changes at work that are making me absolutely *nuts*, Boo with- skin breakdown on toe that I suspect is a bolt (s-c-r-e-w gets censored, LOL) working itself loose from surgery a couple of years ago, idiotic school issues with- Boo that are not actually school issues but them yet again crossing the line and "addressing" things that are none of their business thereby *further* handicapping my son, mysterious phone call from Residential Treatment Center (RTC) that I somehow missed about an "incident" with- thank you, letter from IRS advising husband that he must now file W4 as single/zero exemptions due to mega major W4 SNAFU that his employer did last year and that *we* tried to fix 3 times, and finally (do remember, today is only Tuesday) Boo's hysterical nurse screaming at bus driver and 4 or 5 other students on their bus because they're being just vicious to Boo. Plus, with- husband not home, getting Boo in bed is all on me and... well, we're not having fun. Wait... I take that back, *Boo* is having a blast. So... I mailed in unsigned script to rx company, hoping they're as dumb as husband and me and won't notice script isn't signed, while also placing a call to the rx line with- doctor for a new script. I think it's 50/50 we're going to make it until medications get here (epilepsy medications, makes me nervous). I emailed my resignation this evening. appointment tomorrow with- orthopedic surgeon (*not* the rocket scientist who did the original surgery) so he can hopefully - send up some good thoughts - tell me it's not the bolt but just funky joint deformity just because, and no more surgery needed, though given this week, I'm certainly not counting on *that* scenario. I'm ignoring Boo's school and thank you's Residential Treatment Center (RTC), though I did leave msg with- thank you's therapist yesterday. If the Residential Treatment Center (RTC) issue is seriously serious, she would've called me back so it was probably just run-of-the-mill junk. I did call IRS because they scare me - once husband returns, I can have him sign copies of returns and paperwork ad nauseum and hopefully we can get it straightened out. I did talk with a very very nice lady there... pretty bad when the highlight of your week is talking to an IRS person! And after having given serious consideration to the bus situation, having already had to call the company to tell them it is highly inappropriate for other students to be loading and unloading my son to/from the bus, I am simply going to call sped director who contracted with- this bus company and tell him that the harrassment/bullying/unsafe activities stop immediately or I am going to have to once again pull out my certified letter receipts and slap them once again with a discrimination complaint (not that OCR will do a dmn thing about it, but perhaps the cc: to local TV station who is friendly to disability issues will do the trick). Heaven help me, I just want to survive the last 3 years of Boo's oh so special noneducation without having a nervous breakdown, but I cannot, will not allow my son to be subjected to this. Bus driver is a joke. Bus company already knows this. They obviously don't care. With my beloved Weeburt's help, we are getting Boo in bed. Haven't talked much about Weeburt lately, my kid who for a while I was afraid was going to be difficult child#2. He's simply amazing now. Transitioned to middle school without a single solitary hitch, no more homework battles, pulling straight A's, is in the math bowl (meaning he's one smart kiddo), is *happy*, is just plummeting into puberty with- the squeaky voice and mustache, is about 5'6" already, and ... he's just fabulous. Helpful, considerate, *wickedly* funny with a sharp biting humor, very quick wit. I just realized while singing his praises that probably the reason he blows me away so much is that he is my first typical kid to hit this age. It's really amazing to see how he's growing and changing into a young man, physically *and* emotionally. Anyway... in case you ever have to move a large extraordinary unhelpful person while at the same time protecting 2 herniated disks... he sits at the edge of his wheelchair, I sit at the edge of his bed, I give him a big bear hug (which he doesn't/can't reciprocate) and I just kind of gently fall back and to the side on the bed. Weeburt moves the wheelchair away and then lifts Boo's legs onto the bed (aka on me, LOL). Boo laughs, I try to breathe, and I'm sure Weeburt is just *awed* at what a goofy family we are. Diva pops in every once in a while to make sure we're all still okay, LOL. Well... if you've gotten this far, thanks. I have to admit I feel *so* much better... venting can be good. Beats the heck out of crying, which I didn't dare do because I just wasn't too sure I would stop. I have to keep my priorities straight and my priority is my kids. They're a great group, each as different as can be, but... they're really quite spectacular in their own ways. No matter how no good, rotten, horrible my day is, a couple of minutes with- them and it's not so bad. Sigh... onward. husband comes home in a couple or so days... the man is going to pay.