Oh you going to school and riding the bus

Never Argue Book Cover

This post contains Amazon Affiliate Links and Images.


This is an excerpt from my next book: Never Argue: 2014 Edition. I wrote Never Argue with an Autistic Child and other Special Tales, which detailed the last 6 months in 2012 of raising special needs kids. I should have started one for 2013. I am thinking about doing a giveaway for the book soon.

Brad at the Houston Zoo for the Walk with Me (Easter Seals)

I wrote this morning about Brad not wanting to get up and go to school.

This morning, Brad did not want to get out of bed and he definitely did not want to go to school. I woke him up at 7 am, as usual to shower. He got up, walked to the door, but did not leave the room. He went back to bed. At 7:30, I woke him up again and opened the door up for him. He took his shower, dried off, and went to play on the computer and tablet, as usual. At 8, as usual, I told him to get dressed. His bus comes around 8:30, but I like to be downstairs around 8:10 to 8:15 because of the time window (8:20 to 8:40). The bus has came at 8:20 once. If he misses the bus, I don’t have a car to get him to school. My mother gets home from work between 7:30 and 9:00, depending on traffic. If she gets home after 9, then he would be late for school. The traffic by Walters Road is AWFUL. There are three schools near Walters: Brad’s middle school, an elementary school, and my church’s school, which goes from pre-k to 8^th grade now, I think.

Brad riding a horse at Itz Willowbrook

The point of the bus is to get him to and from school. I did not sit in the IEP/ARD meeting, for my health, not to have him catch the bus. Brad was previously homeschooled for about a year and a half. I got tired of homeschool for various reasons:

• I got tired of him being at home
• I got tired of doing his work for him. His school knew Brad could not read or write, but wanted work turned in weekly. Most of the work was my handwriting, either hand over hand, or myself doing the work. His artwork was his and his alone. Scanning in a week’s worth of work on Friday did not help the case for homeschool either.
•  I got tired of live classes. Since it was homeschool, I wanted to work on my own schedule. Getting up extra early was not one of them. During the first year, I did get up at 8 or 9 am to go through the work, with him done by 1 pm. With the second year, I was too tired from dealing with two, active kids to get up by 8, unless it’s a doctors appointment or church. I wanted to start his work after 11 and work through the afternoon and part of the night. We also did work after midnight, if he did not want to go to sleep.

When I started the process to get him back in public school, one of the administrators told me since Brad did not ride the bus the year before, we had to have an ARD/IEP meeting for Brad can ride the bus. So to conclude, his butt is riding the bus to and from school each morning.

Relating to my grandma

My grandma, Areletha, was a mean witch, when she was living. She died the day (November 8, 2000) before Brad was born (November 9, 2000). I can’t think about her for personal and spiritual reasons, but she does pop up in my thoughts, every now and then. I probably inherited some of her traits: mean-ness and cleanliness (at times). One thing, I appreciated when I got older, was her stance on school. I had no issues with going to school. I loved it. Areletha believed if you could not go to school or church, you could not go anywhere else. If you wanted to go to the mall or hang with your friends, it’s a no, if you did not go to school for legitimate reasons. Brad did not want to go to school. He rather play with his devices. He misplaced his socks. He took extra minutes to put on his pants because he was watching Umi Zoomi on the tablet. He put his shirt on backwards. He took extra time putting on his socks and he definitely did not want to go downstairs to wait on the bus.

Yet, as the bus pulled up, Brad jr. gave me a hug, before he walked to the bus. I hope I don’t have to go through the drama when Kalen goes to school in May, but I will take the hugs.

Maternal Notions

I am not naturally maternal. It took me years to learn to like and love my oldest. I had to work hard to like and love my youngest during my pregnancy. I did not have too many maternal role models growing up. My mother was passive and let my grand mother do the raising and discipline, though we lived in the same house. I fear and respect my grandmother for her leadership, even though I did not appreciate it until after she died. She was worst than I was. She fussed, she cussed, she disciplined. and she blamed others for her mistakes. I remember once she accused me of stealing her jewelry. I don't wear a lot of jewelry. I don't care too much for jewelry. I never stole anything from her in my life (to my recollection). I fussed at her because I did not do it. Might not been the best move, but she was wrong. She eventually found her jewelry in the spot she left it in. No apology. She was silent. I never understood some of her actions when she was diagnosed with cancer. She quit her job, with good insurance BEFORE the chemotherapy began. I think she quit the same week she was diagnosed. I felt she should have worked until she could not work anymore. Cancer treatments are expensive and her diagnosis was not a preexisting condition. I think she was diagnosed in 1997 or 1998. Trying to get insurance after diagnosis is hard. Mama Areletha died the day before Brad was born (November 8, 2000 and Brad was born November 9, 2000).

I feared and respected my great-grandmother for her leadership and punctuality. She was never late to an appointment and I try not to be either. She died in 2000, while I was 4 months pregnant with Brad.  I do not fear my mother. She does not have excellent leadership. She never disciplined us. She is more like a sister or aunt, rather than a mother. I do have resentment towards her because she never stood up for her oldest kid (me), while other relatives picked on her. If you don't try and protect your kids, when others do them wrong, my mind can not process that. I am not the best mother in the world. I still have a lot of issues to work on, but I hope my kids do not feel about me, like I feel about these people I am related too. I just don't have a lot of love or respect for most of my biological family.  If I die today, send my kids to their father. I don't even trust them to watch, protect, and love my kids.

Why?

My oldest is autistic. My family does not treat him well. They blame him for everything that breaks, that ends up missing, etc. Some members have told me that they can not wait for Brad to go back to his daddy for the summer. My child grew up in Georgia, raised by me and his father and his father's family. He is not used to my side of the family. It has only been less than a year since Brad has been here and I don't feel my family is more accepting of special needs. My mother would not even accept my gift of a "proud grandma of an autistic boy" license plate cover. My uncle Eugene thinks autism can be cured with a belt and all his issues is not mental. No one has even offered to keep Brad for the night or day. He is not potty trained. He breaks things. He has melt downs and temper tantrums. They all seem to show favoritism towards the baby. Either you keep both or keep none. Not going to have Brad wondering why his brother went to an aunt, uncle, cousin house and he was not. I want him to feel welcomed where ever he goes and so far I am not getting that. Can't wait till I get my own place. He will always be welcome there. I don't want to die and have Brad here, and they treat the baby 100x better than his oldest brother because Kalen 'normal'. On the other hand, what if Kalen has a learning disability/disorder because autism may be genetic. I definitely do not want my children to suffer at my family's hands.

On the other hand, even though Kalen and Brad have the same father, Brad Sr. do not claim Kalen. I don't want Kalen going to his father, only to be treated badly. Whether my kids are with my family or my ex's family, I don't want them to be treated unfairly. I also don't want them separated (one child in one state and another child in a different state). I want the brothers to grow up and be raised together.