I have no excuse

7 Jan

But I was relieved to see that my last update was in June, as I was quite convinced that it had been a year.

In July we relocated Mishegas Manor to my dream rental.

I have, it turns out, very modest dreams.  I don’t dream about living in a great McMansion in a gated community in California, because what fun would that be without a staff?  No, I’d need an awful lot of assistants to keep up with a place like that.

And while the wildlife that lived among us in the last Mishegas Manor certainly kept things interesting, and, you know, unsanitary, I wasn’t sad to bid them an unfond farewell.

But let’s not dwell where we don’t dwell.  The new Mishegas Manor is a very modest 3-bedroom townhouse with a lovely tile kitchen and a big bathroom upstairs.  There’s a tiny yard and just enough space in front for me to plant a tiny flower garden, which I did, back when it was warm.

So far, Flower really loves her new school.  She has a one-on-one paraprofessional, and is in a regular, mainstream class, but goes to the special ed room for academics.  The neurotypical kids in her class are really good to her, and Flower loves them.   They fight over who gets to sit next to her, and who gets to accompany her to social skills group.  (She gets to bring one friend.)  The Bishop and I went to her school for her birthday.  We brought cupcakes and the Bishop brought his guitar.  We could tell that Flower was really happy and well-liked.

One day Flower was out-of-sorts because her regular para was out.  It was time for her to go to special ed, and she didn’t want to go.  Her regular ed teacher told us this story.  Flower started to cry because she didn’t want to leave her friends.  “So,” her teacher said, “We all went.”

Yes, her teacher packed up the ENTIRE CLASS and they all walked Flower to special ed.  Flower was satisfied with this solution (I should hope so!) and stayed in the special ed room and the teacher and class went back to the regular room and I was pretty much weeping at this point in the story because it was such a wonderful, creative, perfect, accommodating thing for her teacher to have done.  Just breathtakingly kind.

There’s that.  Curly is Curly.  He still goes to his old daycare, because he likes it, and it’s not that far away, and he’s still his curly self, except for when he’s Batman, of course.


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