How It All Went Down

So. I got a call from The School mid-morning. One of the director’s assistants said that the director wanted her to schedule a meeting with us for next week.

“Does that mean that D. was accepted?” I asked.

“I’m not privy to that information,” she replied.

“OK, well, can you tell me what the meeting is about?”

“No, she just said she wants to meet with you.”

O-kay. So, I get Mr. WG’s attention and we decide on Monday, deciding in the process that D. will miss his school trip. Fine. But after the phone call ends, Mr. WG says, “I want to know what the meeting is about before we go.”

I called The School. “Can I speak with the director?”

“Um, she’s in a meeting.”

“OK, well, I need to know if my son has been accepted.”

“Well, hold on a moment.” I wait. She comes back and tells me that she just spoke with the other assistant who is surprised that I am calling and asking questions since she already scheduled a Monday meeting with me.

“Yes,” I say, “but she couldn’t even tell me what the meeting was about. So, I would like to know WHY we are meeting, and I would like to know whether D. has been accepted.”

“Oh. Well, I can certainly have the director call you.”

Shortly after lunch, I took D. to speech therapy, at The School. I figured the therapist would tell me what the decision was, even if she had to do it off the record. Well, I got there, and she points out the director and someone else making their way towards us. They sat in on the first part of the session to talk with me.

“My assistant told me that she had set a meeting with you for Monday but that you were very anxious to know our decision and that you requested that meeting be moved up to right now,” said the director.

“Um, no, that’s not exactly what I said.” I relayed the conversation.

“Well, the meeting is to discuss our decision. I’m sorry that was unclear.” You know how sometimes people say they’re sorry, but what they mean is “I’m sorry you’re A MORON”? Yeah, that was the kind of apology she offered. But anyway.

“So, at the meeting,” she says, “we had many people present.” She names them all – which was just plain weird, since she prefaces most of the names with “You’ve never met so-and-so” – whatever. “And we just feel that the ratio, ten children in the classroom, that’s a lot for D. right now.”

I pretty much stopped listening after that. She babbled on about behavior therapy groups and maybe we could try again in a few months and we aren’t closing the door, and have I looked into the special needs program at the JCC?

Oh, you mean the one FOR AUTISTIC CHILDREN???

“Oh, really? The children are all autistic? I didn’t realize what children it served.”

So, she thought it would be a good fit based on the fact that we are Jewish? What IS that?

OK. So. After she left, the speech therapist made it clear that she felt the decision was the wrong one, and she strongly encouraged that we work towards reapplying in October.

And then I came home and fought with my husband, who apparently thinks I should NOT homeschool, who thinks we should put D. at the DaySchool with the other kids and hire a full-time shadow for him. Apparently, he also thinks we have become very wealthy. (We have not, in case you were wondering.)

In any case, I am most appreciative of all of your kind comments and notes and I am SO TIRED, and I will try hard to finish this story tomorrow, but realistically it may have to wait until Sunday.