Okay, friends. I am going to indulge in one brief moment of venting, and then I will move on. Please excuse the unhinged stream of consciousness that is about to ensue. In 3...2..1...
Gah. I am feeling very discouraged and worried today. As is the grand tradition of this time of year, PJ is sick. My poor dude has a terrible cough, a streaming nose, irritated eyes and has been running a mild fever. I cancelled his Early Intervention therapy today and yesterday because he's sicky and I don't want to risk his therapists passing germs to other kids and/or getting sick themselves. It's his second disruption to his therapy in as many weeks, as "Superstorm" Sandy kept his therapists off the roads for a few days. It is additionally frustrating because we only have a few days of therapy left before he starts school! I am nervous enough about the transition without adding extra to it!
We also have tickets to take him to see Thomas the Train, in person, this Friday! As in, he gets to climb on board Thomas and ride a real, life-sized train! He gets to meet Sir Toppem Hatt. Pete and I seriously discussed waiting until after this trip to potty train him because, when he sees a real, life-sized Thomas in front of him, he is going to poop. his. pants. I bought the tickets in August and have been dreaming of this trip since. PJ isn't yet able to process future plans, so he really has no clue! But, I do, and if we have to cancel this trip, I will be broken-hearted.
And school. School is starting in less then two weeks. So, of course, the news is filled with stories of school bus crashes and teachers sleeping with students and a bus aide tightening the straps on the seat of an autistic child as he cried out for help, leaving him with bruises and worse, too frightened to go back to school. And in two weeks, I am supposed to kiss my toddler goodbye, load him on a bus, and just hope that the people in charge will care for him like I do. Right now, PJ isn't in a place yet where he could tell me if something was wrong. I just have to blindly trust that the people whose hands I am leaving him in won't hurt him. And seriously, I know it's insane. I know I am a crazy, over-protective psycho mama but I am so scared. I am not ready for this. If PJ didn't have Autism, he would be home with me for at least another year before pre-school. I don't usually have these feelings anymore, but right now...I feel like I'm getting robbed. I am angry and frightened and a little overwhelmed.