G wet through his overnight diaper. Again. I strip the bed and gather all the laundry from his room. I walk to McK’s room and grab hers along with all visible yellows. Those things need to be cleaned. It all gets tossed into our giant front loader washing machine. It’s 9:30 AM.
It’s the end of the day. One child is in bed and the other is stalling with requests for the bathroom, her song, and just one more hug. I am emotionally exhausted. This last push before spring break has taken its toll on me. My house looks like a tornado went through it. G-man has discovered the joys of the Tupperware drawer and McK has every doll she’s ever played with on the floor.
I teach students with multiple disabilities. Some are more complex than others. Today I was working with a 6th grader I’ll call Jessie. He’s a cool kid who uses a wheelchair to move about the building. Jessie has a lot to say but has difficulty actually saying it. You see, even though he is very vocal, his actual voice doesn’t work the same as yours or mine.
He’s been a beast to get to sleep lately.
Back in my younger days, I spent Parade Day…yes, capitalized like a holiday…running around the Southside wearing my Irish sweater and probably some sort of shamrock beads. I would be with a group of friends drinking…and throwing up…green beer. Using disgusting port-o-potties was a luxury because you usually copped-a-squat wherever you could. Meandering up and down Western Ave was a right of passage.
Did you ever just have a day? When everything that could test your limits just blew right past them?
That was today.
Little man has been waking up at 4:00 AM all week. My alarm goes off at 5:15 so I’m pretty much running on empty by the time I wander into the house at 9:00 PM or so. Classes have been extra stressful the last couple of weeks and I need to pass another certification test next month on top of it.