Omg, why is preschool more expensive than college? Obama, wth?
Autism Update!
Wow. So. My son is fully included in this kinda preschool place. …It’s not much of a preschool. More of a daycare. I really thought it was kinda semi-structured, but now there is a CAMERA in there and even the NT kids spend an awful lot of time spinning in circles all by themselves. What the heck.
So, I went into Mommy Rage mode and made an appointment with the prestigious looking For Real Private Preschool right next door. I toured it with Wylie and he was kinda cute, even though he was a little overwhelmed and had a hard time following all the questions the staff asked him. It was a beautiful school, and absolutely worth the tuition. But I don’t have that kind of money. Heh.
So, that was the first time in a long time I felt a little helpless.
I talked to my dad about it. “You gonna put Wylie in that other school?”
“Nooo. It’s way too much. It costs as much as we take home from work.”
“So what are you gonna do.”
“Well, I’m not gonna pay for him to sleep all day. And he needs some support. I gotta do something.”
“Kindergarten next year.”
“Yeah, but we were hoping, you know, he’d be normal by then. He isn’t, so he needs some support.”
“Well, he’s autistic, he’s not gonna be normal. He’s not stupid. He understands things. A lot.”
“I know. He doesn’t talk. And he plays by himself all the time.”
“Well. We’ll have to work on that, and he will probably struggle. You struggled. We put you in everything. Do you remember? Gymnastics? Tap? Ballet? Soccer? Daycare? Sticking you around other kids never solved the problem.”
“You don’t know. I was weird, but I had friends. I struggled, but I did okay. Maybe I’d be weirder if I never had any of that.”
“Honestly, I think Wylie’s fine. I’ll think he will do fine in kindergarten. For most kids, that is their first exposure to a classroom environment. Wylie has YEARS on them. He’s outspoken and clever.”
“He’s loud. And bossy. And doesn’t understand the concept of personal space.”
“Um.”
“What?”
“Well…”
“What?”
“I mean. You’re his mother.”
True dat. …I’m pretty loud and bossy, myself, tho. Dunno if I should be in charge of Manners 101. That’s why I sorta wanted to hand him off to professionals. Damnit.
Wow. So. My son is fully included in this kinda preschool place. …It’s not much of a preschool. More of a daycare. I really thought it was kinda semi-structured, but now there is a CAMERA in there and even the NT kids spend an awful lot of time spinning in circles all by themselves. What the heck.
So, I went into Mommy Rage mode and made an appointment with the prestigious looking For Real Private Preschool right next door. I toured it with Wylie and he was kinda cute, even though he was a little overwhelmed and had a hard time following all the questions the staff asked him. It was a beautiful school, and absolutely worth the tuition. But I don’t have that kind of money. Heh.
So, that was the first time in a long time I felt a little helpless.
I talked to my dad about it. “You gonna put Wylie in that other school?”
“Nooo. It’s way too much. It costs as much as we take home from work.”
“So what are you gonna do.”
“Well, I’m not gonna pay for him to sleep all day. And he needs some support. I gotta do something.”
“Kindergarten next year.”
“Yeah, but we were hoping, you know, he’d be normal by then. He isn’t, so he needs some support.”
“Well, he’s autistic, he’s not gonna be normal. He’s not stupid. He understands things. A lot.”
“I know. He doesn’t talk. And he plays by himself all the time.”
“Well. We’ll have to work on that, and he will probably struggle. You struggled. We put you in everything. Do you remember? Gymnastics? Tap? Ballet? Soccer? Daycare? Sticking you around other kids never solved the problem.”
“You don’t know. I was weird, but I had friends. I struggled, but I did okay. Maybe I’d be weirder if I never had any of that.”
“Honestly, I think Wylie’s fine. I’ll think he will do fine in kindergarten. For most kids, that is their first exposure to a classroom environment. Wylie has YEARS on them. He’s outspoken and clever.”
“He’s loud. And bossy. And doesn’t understand the concept of personal space.”
“Um.”
“What?”
“Well…”
“What?”
“I mean. You’re his mother.”
True dat. …I’m pretty loud and bossy, myself, tho. Dunno if I should be in charge of Manners 101. That’s why I sorta wanted to hand him off to professionals. Damnit.