"Three of four marriages with special needs childcare situations end in divorce."
This is like the opening salvo in "special needs childcare" family counseling. I'd prefer not to be here. I have to take notes to force myself to pay attention. When the counselor sees me taking notes, she says, "You don't have to do that -- I'll just mail this information to you." And I want to explain that the note-taking gives me something to do with my fingers. But I don't explain that.
At times, I feel like Joe Biden, attempting to filibuster during my "hidden documents" investigation. I complain that there is no script for childcare. If someone had said, "The art of diagnosis is murky, and often we don't fully know what we're doing..." If the speech therapist had done her research before shooting down various therapies....
The counselor cuts me off. "That's life isn't it? You don't know things--until you know them. Let's move on."
I explain that the bus is a tricky scenario. There is bad behavior on the bus. I've devised a sticker chart. If I get a positive report from the bus aide....if the stuffed hippo remains in the lap and is never--never once--spotted in an airborne situation....if all parties can agree on a suitable sticker reward....
"Stop right there," says the counselor. "You're not on the bus. The bus is the bus aide's problem. If you're hearing complaints, contact the district. The board can pay for more support."
Chuckling, almost in a cavalier way, the counselor says, "It's great that you have money! People with money tend to do better in all these areas."
And the hour is over. It's time for a long walk and a stiff drink.
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