What Would MacGyver Do?

At least once a day, I feel like I am banging my head against a brick wall.  Taking care of my children is my job, and I don't mind putting in a hard day's work.  What I do mind is being paid lip service. Being told things are in motion, when in fact they are at a standstill.

I mind, for example, that we are well into the second week of school, and nothing has been arranged for the Peanut Butter Kid's homebound schooling.  I'm winging it here with her education.  I've got a workbook, a paper clip, and an Internet connection: I'm like freaking MacGyver.  I'm teaching her math and science and "good citizenship" (a Texas requirement) but I don't know what the heck I'm doing.  And my math skills totally suck.

The district is supposed to provide a tutor for four hours a week.  That's all I'm asking for.  I filed the paperwork, correctly and on time.  Our pediatrician has signed papers and made phone calls.

And yet, nothing.  Or rather, almost nothing.  Here's what's been accomplished so far:

✔ Schlepping of paperwork by yours truly.

✔ Reading Comprehension Class = help Mommy assemble the closet organizer.  I figure if she can follow those crazy instructions, she's learned an important life skill.

✔ Science Class = lesson on condensation.  Involves me chasing kids around with ice-cold Diet Coke can and wiping the condensation on the backs of their necks while they scream "Condensation!"  I bet they will never forget what condensation is.

✔ Math Class = If I put out three pounds of grapes in front of four children, how many grapes will be left in fifteen minutes?  Can you give the answer in metric?

✔ Foreign Language / Culture Class = What is the etymology of the phrase "Mochaccino Frappe"?  Do you think they actually drink 600-calorie coffees in Europe?  Discuss why or why not.

✔ A meeting that included myself, the Peanut Butter Kid, and six teachers and administrators.

That meeting dissolved because the district and the school could not agree on whether the PBK requires a psychiatric evaluation.  Personally, I don't care whether they give her a psych eval or not.  The thing is, I don't think she needs one, but there's certainly no harm in having one if it will result in these people getting a move on.

I, however, am definitely going to need a complete psych eval, and possibly an inpatient stay at a nice mental institution spa by the end of this thing.  Example: The school asked our pediatrician change what she wrote on the form.

I'll let that sink in for a moment.

The pediatrician politely declined, citing the need for "accuracy."  I know.  Doctors are such sticklers that way.

Here's another reason I will need additional medication: all material provided by the classroom teacher is supposed to be funneled through the homebound schooling coordinator, who works out of a different school.  The school is not supposed to just hand me stuff for PBK to do. Okay, fine.  Except there's a stack of lonely schoolwork that's sitting in that other school, and a six-year-old sitting in my house, and no one seems to be able to get the two together.  We did get worksheets on the Down Low from a classroom teacher after our debacle of a meeting.  However, it seems she's been instructed not to provide educational materials to a child to follow the rules.

Here is exactly what I look like trying to resolve this problem:


As an added bonus, the latest reason for the hold-up is that they bickered for so long about the psych eval, that now the pediatrician's original paperwork is out of date.  I was asked to get new paperwork from the pediatrician.  I pitched a nutty.  I am not taking my health-compromised child to the pediatrician's office to pick up more germs along with more paperwork that I filed correctly the first time.

Also, it is not in my children's best interest for me to annoy the pediatric nurses to death.  As we all know, the schedulers and nurses at our pediatricians' offices basically have us by the, um, calendar.  They have power.  And I want them to like me.  I want them to squeeze me in when someone's got a fever on Friday at 4 p.m.  I don't want to piss them off.

After I ranted on the phone for a while, the homebound coordinator agreed to fax the pediatrician the form herself.  But of course now we have to wait for the 24 36 48 hour turn-around time for forms at the doctor's office.  I expect that time will get longer and longer each time I follow up on it.  I think I'll wait for this form to be done before I go back in asking for the 504 Plan letter for the Pork Lo Maniac.

I bet if the pediatrician's office staff had known what they were in for when I first called them, they would have told me their practice was full and not accepting new patients.