everything is a pea under miss a's mattress

As I type to you, Miss A is up in her room rather than at school. She woke up crying, then grew increasingly upset as I dragged her through the process of getting ready for school this morning. She had a headache. She thought she might have a fever. (Nope.) Her tummy hurt. She thought she might throw up. She had gym class today. If we let her stay home she would stay in her room and work on math all day long.

Eventually Jason took pity on her and let her stay home, telling her he'd take her to school this afternoon. He went up a few minutes ago and she tearfully begged him to let her stay home all day.

This weekend I had a handful of realizations about Miss A. I can't remember all of them because I'm so tired. But she likes school less all the time, she used to love gym and math and now they're her least favorite parts of the day, she is making herself sick worrying about school, she genuinely can't shake off stuff other people can, like being singled out for talking when she was answering comments or questions from other people. If I look at her insane behavior as a symptom of a disability (and I feel ridiculous using that term when she is able-bodied and able to control herself in public and able to perform at school, etc.) it is a lot easier to be patient and compassionate. But then sometimes I also feel like JUST FREAKING GET DRESSED AND GO TO SCHOOL BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT PEOPLE DO!

Yesterday we went to an open house at a charter school here. They have social and emotional counseling for emotionally sensitive children. Using the word "sensitive" makes me feel like I'm saying Miss A is the most compassionate person ever and woodland creatures flock to her as if she was Snow White. This is not the case. She's sensitive in the sense of "The Princess and the Pea."

The school seemed amazing aside from the counseling aspect, so we're applying for enrollment. Miss A started chattering about switching in the middle of this year. That surprised us, because we thought her attachment to current teachers and school friends would be too strong. Apparently not.

Tomorrow morning we have an appointment with her pediatrician to talk about what the heck we're supposed to do to help her. I'm hoping he can help us figure out what to do, or refer me to one of the exactly two pediatric behavioral health specialists in my insurance network (one of whom graduated from medical school in 1967 so he has to be around 70, right?).

I feel nervous about potentially sending Miss A to this amazing (and tuition-free) charter school, as if she is so incredibly special she needs a special school filled with other special people. She is special, of course, in the way people are special, but I don't know how to say to people, "It's not that she's so smart, it's that we're so desperate." And apparently charter schools are another thing, like "red-shirting" your kindergartener, that are a big hot button for people who are not me. So I worry I am offending Miss A's teachers or putting them in a bad position by asking them to write referrals for her application. And I'm almost over this one but I still have a slight feeling of, "Can't it just be easy?" Can't they all just go to the same school and ride the bus and come home and do homework and do activities that are not speech therapy?

But yesterday the pastor at our church gave a well-timed talk on how important it is to reflect on what is good before moving forward, so here's what's good:

• The pain and discomfort I dealt with during childhood now has a purpose that I can see, and it helps me have compassion for Miss A.
• God works miracles, and I can have hope for Miss A despite the failures of the schools, her doctors, and her parents.
• My boys don't seem to care or notice that people can't understand them well.
• The boys seem to get that something is amiss with Miss A and they want to help her.
• The boys have a great teacher this year and I don't have to worry about them.
• We have options about where we can send Miss A to school.
• We have the option to home school her.
• We make enough money that we can even consider stuff like sending the kids to therapy.
• I am able to work from home so we don't have to send them to school no matter what.
• Jason and I like each other and can laugh about this stuff together. 
• Had we continued to have babies (like I wanted), I would not be able to attend to Miss A like I can now.
• A handful of you guys have written me about school stuff and I like getting that insight from other people.
• Life is full of surprises. Which I sort of like and sort of don't, but I think it's good for me.