Uncle Brennan (Captain America to some of you) sees Baby D as a football player or wrestler. D is just, as you know, always in the middle of the action.
Our Chief Babysitter "Andy" is on the wrestling team. I don't get it. Andy is a smart, well-versed, positive, interesting kind of kid and yet he's starving himself to meet his weight so he can roll around on a mat with another sweaty, hungry kid. I was in the wrestling annex in high school. I remember the smell. Yuck. Really? I'm not a huge follower of football but at least they are outside and have helmets and stuff. The smell sort of dissipates in the fall air.
I need another cup of coffee.
We were at school yesterday for Colin's "staffing." This is where we meet with Colin's entire team. There's the speech therapist, occupational therapist, social therapist, special ed coordinator, the principal, and his teacher -- who is "Andy's" mom, by the way. It's always a good meeting. They do awesome work in our school district, and we really couldn't be more pleased. Colin has worked with several of these people for his entire school career. He's had the same occupational therapist since preschool and she will be going with him to middle school next year. They are always full of high praise for Colin and even though I get misty when I have to sign the paper that says I understand that he's in special ed, I know that what they are doing is working. We are so proud of the hard work Colin has done.
I have to admit, though, that I can never get used to the tone of the meeting -- and now I understand this is the nature of the process -- in which they explain my own child to me. "Colin gets anxious over this . . ." As though I didn't know.
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