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First Day of School

Ben and Logan had their first day of school today. Sean starts on Thursday for staggered entry for Pre-K students. Ben's bus was too late for us to wait for it, so after 50 minutes of waiting impatiently, I drove him to school. It was so easy, it made me think about making that one mile drive each day. This year, I am trying out a new plan. I will pick Ben up from school at 3:15pm every day to give him  time to eat and use the bathroom before therapy. In years past, it has been a mad rush to get everything done and if the bus was late, it was stressful. Logan and Sean need to be picked up at the same time Ben is "supposed" to get off the bus. By doing it this way, Ben will get to walk with me to Logan and Sean's school to pick them up. I think he will enjoy being a part of this ritual. Hope all goes well for your first days of school!

Bury the Hatchet

During a conversation with another parent yesterday about the best way to work with the teachers and principal at Ben's school, she said that she was ready to "do battle." I was glad we were talking on the phone because she could not see my reaction to her declaration. I vehemently disagree with this method of advocating for your child. Using a fighting mentality to get what you want for your child may only get you a reputation for being a difficult parent, that could potentially follow you around from school to school and agency to agency. (The special education/exceptional child field is small.) The results may be that your child's needs are never met. Here are a few ideas that came to mind as I thought about this situation with this mom and how she discussed her relationship with the school and the roadblocks she encountered. Hopefully, you may be able to put a few of these to good use: Be an advocate. When I looked up the definition for "advocate" a

Pay It Forward, Again

There are not many times when Ryan and I are both left speechless, but it happened one evening when we were out to dinner with the boys. It was our last night at the beach and a thunderstorm was threatening to hit. We chose the covered porch area because the wait for an inside table was over 30 minutes long. I realized too late that the outdoor dining also served as the smokers' hangout. With the Olympics playing on the TV, the big storm hovering above and three rambunctious boys, conversation with the revolving door of smokers came easy. Our food took awhile to arrive and Ben became fiercely hungry. Ben's mood was not at its best - he was tired and hungry, never a good combination for anyone. One of the quieter smokers brought us out popcorn. He mentioned that things were a bit slow in the kitchen. We thanked him, and assumed he was an owner. After we ate a delicious dinner, the waitress came over to tell us that our bill had been paid. My husband tried to guess who our th