Despite starting out with a most unfortunate meal, and missing the blood-red lunar eclipse due to cloudy skies, Wednesday night’s pumpkin-carving activities were good fun for everyone. My favorite of the night? The collaboration between the little man and my velvet vamp, Zophia. He drew the face on, and she carved it (pictured below). Many thanks to her for hosting the messy event (upon my suggestion…after I invited myself over). And extra mad props for her safety-conscious pumpkin carving tip. Cut out the bottom instead of the top. You’ll be glad you did.
Thursday. Three spider-mans. Two princesses. Two power rangers. But only one crappy homemade ghost costume. Still, it’s what the little man wanted, and I think he looked awfully danged cute. But I’m his mom so what do I know. Well, I do know that yesterday was exhausting from start to finish. In the morning I hitched a ride in on the school bus with my boy, which he thought was great, and I got to see the roundabout route he takes every day. It’s a long one. Then I spent the half day following the lad around the school. Sure, it was a little out of the ordinary. They don’t regularly go trick or treating, but I know that managing that group of young’n’s must still be a handful every day. Don’t know how the staff there does it. When we got home I was ready to pass out, but just a few hours later we headed right back…for the first meeting of a support group, for parents of pre-school age children with special needs. There are 980 such children enrolled in our district. Only parents of 12 of them showed up. Just 12. I understand that time is in short supply for many of us. The husband was unable to attend because of his work/sleep schedule, and I’m sure many others are in the same boat. But of the parents who showed up, many were like us. Floundering. Our kids are most at risk. One of the social workers imparted some alarming information, about the path that special needs kids often follow…starting with low self esteem in grade school, early ostracism causing them to be social outcasts in junior high, leading them to hang out with “the wrong crowd” in high school, and culminating in incarceration. Cheery. Makes me want to home school the little man, but we won’t be able to protect and shield him forever.
An aside: listening to Elliott Smith’s posthumous release, as much as I may like it, only dampens already soggy spirits. Lunch with friends and an evening out at the local NaNoWriMo kickoff should help turn things around some.
