In the doldrums

Tonight is the first night in 5 that anyone in my house has gotten a full night's sleep. If I ever needed reassurance that we do not want another child, it came this week.

Elliot has a raging ear infection. His right ear is oozing puss, and hurts so badly that touching his outer ear to wipe it, or even brushing against it when changing his clothes will yield the most painful cry he can muster. The good news is that it's in the ear he can't hear with (the right one) so at least he can hear. We have to be extra with-it around these ears.

For the last four nights, he has not slept. At all. We were poised for the emergency room yesterday...shouldn't the antibiotics be helping by now? There's nothing more we can do for pain than tylenol/motrin? But his on-call pediatrician and ENT both urged us not, recommending instead simultaneous doses of acetominophen and ibuprofen, and a super-dose of his ear drops, that also help manage the pain. And yes, he's slept soundly, but in a moment of panic I did wake up and make sure he wasn't in a coma. Poor guy. I hope he sleeps for a day. He certainly needs the recoup.

Of course during this sleep free marathon, he was the bright spark...happy all day. I was the over-tired, touchy grump. His ear infection comes during my own cold, and on the heels of Ana's week-long battle with strep throat. She now has something else (a cold?) even though she's just finished her round of antibiotics. Exhausting.

In the middle of this all, we have begun the process of looking for schools for Elliot and Ana. Next fall, Ana becomes eligible for pre-K, and Elliot loses Early Steps (in-house therapy) and will have to receive services through the public school system. This double whammy has me piqued to say the least. Here's what's guiding my process/anxiety:

• It would be ideal if there were a learning community that both my children can attend.
• I know there are "super-teachers" out there for children with special needs. Of course, we want one of those. Many of these loving professionals exist in schools that are lackluster. The word in the special needs community is, "you have to get in X class." I'm not feeling that. I want a super program, where the principal/director espouses a certain attitude of inclusion that is pervasive in all classrooms and functions with the whole staff.
• I don't think I want Elliot in a special class all day, and not included with the general population.
• Elliot doesn't need to go somewhere else. We can bring him to a public school once a week or a couple of days a week, and he can get these services and we can bring him back to AH. But if there's a good place out there for him, I believe he should be there all the time.

Yes, now we are dealing with the next phase of our life in learning about special needs. One of the neurologist's prophecies come true: He may be in special classes.

And yes, I've shared a life with this little person and see him for who he is, but here comes the part in his life where he gets some label that is supposed to communicate who he is to all of his teachers. Here comes the part where he is separated, quite possibly with children having severe special needs who may not be able to socialize with him in the way he craves. Here comes the part where he may be teased and hurt because he is different. Here comes the part where I really have to let go. I'm wondering if I can.

Excuse me while I vomit.

And before my best friend interrupts this blog with an important message about children with special needs and how it's not really like I just described and how he'll be fine (just like he's always been fine), and need to make clear: I know what a really good school can do. I also know that there is no substitute for good parenting. So it is with equal parts hope and resignation that I begin this process of finding a place. A place where my children will spend many hours, where they will learn more about grown ups by what they don't say, and where, if we play our cards right, they will get a hand up.

So in this process: ISAS schools, catholic schools, public schools, magnet schools, charter schools...you name it. My first flirtation with finding a school they could both attend didn't go so well. I went to an informational meeting for ISAS schools, and when I raised my hand to ask the panel about children with special needs, I was met with a look of half-fear and half-confusion by the admissions director. Yes, there are learning specialists to help children with dyslexia and all that. At which point I felt like standing up and saying loudly, "No. That's not what I mean. What about kids with cerebral palsy? Who need therapy? Who can't walk?" Blood rising in my cheeks, I bit my tongue. This is clearly not where he belongs.

And is that where Ana belongs? Does she need to be in an environment where everyone can do. What will she learn about inclusion and children with special needs from her school, even though she doesn't need the services? What attitudes will she develop from her school? Do I need to let go of the idea that the perfect school for each of them might be different?

After the presentation, the director of the Parenting Center confirmed my assertation: The ISAS schools (as a whole) are not poised to serve children with special needs. It seems like public schools are the way to go. What does that mean exactly? I think I'm about to find out another good reason to live in Jefferson Parish. Wish me luck.