We met with the county people yesterday to see if the J-man would “qualify” for the school-system-run preschool. We had to take the J-man with us in an un-napped state, because the ONLY slot they had available was at 3 PM. You know, right in the middle of rest time. Good times.
The people were nice and all, and they think the J-man is adorable (because he is) but seriously, the woman who took minutes? Has no business ever writing again. And she’s a teacher. Also, the coordinator may want to re-think her strategy of “sharing” her monitor with me because obviously “sharing” is “inconceivable.” (“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”) Sharing does not mean briefly flashing the screen towards me, and then choosing what you think is best without consulting me.
Today I had to send the coordinator an email giving her all the errors in the reports and minutes. She was NOT pleased with me, and kept insisting that something had happened yesterday, when it obviously had not. Really, why would I tell you that my child knows his numbers, when he doesn’t? It seems bizarre, since from what I understand, parents should make their child’s issues look as significant as possible to get the kind of support actually needed. *sigh* We went back and forth, and finally she said she would just attach my corrections to the bottom of the report (where they are oh so likely to be read *eyes rolling wildly*).
Not exactly the way I wanted to start our relationship.
In completely unrelated news, my boss’s wife is in the hospital today being induced with their newest child. Last I heard, he was tracking the contractions via a spreadsheet. I seriously work for a geek. But a nice geek.