Mental Vacation Needed-(Rant Warning)

STRESS.  Not a fan.  What can I say?  It is never ending.  Some is eustress--you know, the crap they teach you in health class about how some stress is good and keeps you motivated. Most is just capital S stress.  The kind that leaves you wandering around the house aimlessly, hopping in the minivan and leaving to "return a video" (it was three weeks late and not even good.  Thanks for nothing Time Traveler's Wife) only to get into the van and burst into sobs.  I. HATE. STRESS. 

This post has been over a week delayed.  Cameran's party was the 20th.  Her birthday, coincidentally World Down syndrome Awareness Day, the 21st, the 22nd her 12 month check up=shots which make me nervous, the 23rd her Interventionist appointment, and the rest of the week a blur.  No, there are no party pictures yet.  Yes I have them thanks to Emily, who graciously took them, but no to actually uploading them.

This post is supposed to be uplifting and happy and in rememberance of Cami's first year.  But I am a dweller.  And ever since it has been suggested that Cameran's "head butts" aka "hiccups" might actually be seizures by her PT I have been a mess.  At least when she went to her check up and didn't even have one Dr. W still said it was curious and set up a consult with a neurologist for this coming Tuesday.  And I know that "What will be will be" and that "God doesn't give you more than you can handle" and "Stop worrying, she'll be fine"---but seriously?  Unless you have spent the last year in this mama's shoes, then no advice necessary, I will do my best to keep an open mind for those who solicit advice but don't have a child with special needs.

 It's hard enough having accepted that Cameran will be working twice as hard to do things that are natural to most of us, but she does NOT deserve to have more crap piled on top.  Delays I can handle.  Delays I have accepted.  Does it suck having to spoonfeed your kid her "Smash Cake" when she should be digging in and putting her hands to her own mouth?  Yep.  Does it sometimes cause heart pangs of jealousy when I see the other kids in her room at daycare crawling and even walking at less than 12 months. Yep.  But I am good with that.  I accept that.  I do not accept her PT telling me she needs checked out because she is a pseudo-neurologist.  Not when this mama already has enough to deal with. 

Then there are my students.  Now don't get me wrong; I love like teaching.  Once upon a day I lived and breathed Scholastic catologues, pouring over them in search of the perfect books for my future classroom.  Now I spend my days doing my best to get them to proficiency which translates to=I do my job while trying not to resent about 3/4 of them for having God-given intelligence and not using it.  Maybe they aren't up for trying their best, but hey, who cares?! There's always tomorrow. I find myself so often wanting to shout at them and tell them that Cameran is going to have to bust her tail to do her best while they can do it almost effortlessly but choose not to.  It sucks and it hurts.  I know I can't personalize and internalize, but it sucks.

There.  I ranted.  Writing is supposed to be therapy, correct?  I came. I wrote. I conquered.  Next time I will come back with happy tales of Hawaii, luaus, and leis. (Pictures too!)  And if all goes well, good news from the neurologist!