Recently, I’ve realised how hard it can be to do all the things. I have lists of things I have been staring at in a state of almost-horror, and the longer the lists get, the more I hide from them. It has taken me a while to realise that the reason I am not getting ‘things’ done – is because we’ve stumbled into one of those times when busy takes over. It’s not just the Christmas season, though that’s usually enough for me to go into full-on hide in the cupboard mode.
We’re also in the middle of psychometric testing again, this time for my daughter. I’m almost an old hat at this by now, as it’s our 4th time through the full assessment process, which is probably why my brain keeps insisting that it’s ‘not a big deal’ and ‘we can do all the other things as well’.
You see, I’ve forgotten how many times I’ve filled out behaviour checklists / other paperwork (I think we’re at least in double digits by now.). I am deeply familiar with these forms, and I’m not yet sure that’s a good thing.
For the intake assessment, I think I also might have intimidated the psychologists. Pulling out a folder 2 inches thick with medical records and paperwork was probably a little intimidating. (That’s just one child’s medical folder and neither tomes include the two other equally ridiculously huge folders full of recommended home therapy instructions/information). But I think they might have quaked a bit when I pulled out my observation records for my daughter that goes back to when she’s four days old plus a folder of work/art/drawing examples showing her fine/gross motor capabilities. Yeah, I think I’ve done this one too many times. The first such ‘appointment’ was before J was born, so I know what questions they’ll ask and what records I should keep, much to my personal, disorganised heart’s horror. Fourth times the charm, right?
Some days, it would be nice to not feel a sense of extreme familiarity with the ASOS, or know that the BASC-2 is the best instrument for assessing ASD with giftedness, or to wonder if they’ll be using the Burger-Veltmeijer’s Dimensional Discrepancy Model this time. . . yeah, I think my desire to know everything is catching up with me.
Maybe it’s OK to hide in the cupboard sometimes. Maybe it’s OK to not be surprised when (for the fourth time), the assessors ask for more time to test my kids. Maybe it’s OK to feel both stressed and comforted by how familiar I am with these assessments. Again. I’m not sure. I’m sure it’s possible, right?
It’s been one of those crazy weeks. Sometimes I wish, just a little, that the crazy weeks weren’t becoming routine. But eventually, I know the dark tunnel of mental and physical tiredness will turn, and I’ll have a moment to be crazy-spontaneous, to say, the hell with it, let’s all go to the park, or the zoo. To not have to plan around medical appointments and decompression time after a stressful visit to a doctor or specialist. I live in hope. And occasionally, you will find me in the cupboard. And I think that’s OK.