Home » School » Three things cannot be long hidden: the son, the moon, and the truth. (with apologies to Buddha)
Three things cannot be long hidden: the son, the moon, and the truth. (with apologies to Buddha)Posted in School By Single Dad On April 15, 2010
“Courage has its rewards” was the fax a dear friend sent upon hearing of the pregnancy.
I have a son. He was born 843 days after Pearlsky. I love him. I miss him. I don’t know him.
He is as severely disabled as Pearlsky, if not more. He is in a residential program about two hours away. His mother sees him often, she was not able to deal with him at home, and at the strong encouragement of the person she married, my son is in this program. I did not object simply because it was, and is, not logistically feasible for him to live with me and his sister.
The program is one of the best. It costs over three quarters of a million dollars per year. Yes, you read that right. And they cannot keep me informed. They forget to send me copies of documents. They forget to send me meeting notices. On his IEP only his mother is listed under “Parents” and I am lucky to be on the cc list. I gently inform them, and I am back on, for a short time.
Turns out there is a care plan meeting tomorrow. How do I know? An email from my ex, to the new case manager today, saying “You should cc his father on all emails.” This in response to him sending her a meeting reminder and some pre-meeting paperwork. Ok, she did something right.
The guy sends me and my son’s mother a one sentence email:
I apologize for the miscommunication. I’ll make sure you both receive all emails from now on.
But I am rip shit. It was a bad morning anyway, and now I find out with less than 24 hours of a meeting that there is no way I can get to. Pissed, I (guess what I did?) write an email to my son’s new case manager. And I copy Steve, a big shot there who I am very friendly with.
“Miscommunication” is when there is a failure to communicate clearly. You failed to communicate at all, not even an attempt, as a matter of fact. Apparently I have been removed from a mailing list.
I resent it, yet again.
And since you were notified of the omission, I still have not received any information or letter on said meeting.
He sends some sniveling apology, and the paperwork. I then send Steve this email, one line:
No, but he has been brought up to speed since I read your email. My first thought was OH NO! NOT AGAIN! Then I was just overcome with laughter ’cause he really should have been prompted. You’re right, very unfair to the new guy. He said that on your son’s floor, when he asked about the father, one of the Nurses said, “Mom takes care of everything.” He’s learned his first lesson. He’s a good man (reminds me a little of a young Richard Dreyfus.) I cautioned him not to use “!!’s” frivolously. Otherwise I hope all is well with you. You are probably aware that the last case manager had a stroke last month; I’ll assume there were no emails from you that coincided with that event. Only kidding, it’s good to hear from you and it’s always exciting.
Yeah, $750,000 a year.
And what do I have against my ex’s new husband? Nothing besides the fact that he was the main influence on my son being sent so far, nothing besides the fact that he is afraid of my children and has NO interaction with either one, nothing besides the fact that if I die, he is the primary influence on their surviving parent, nothing besides the fact that he insisted my son and his mother move across town as opposed to the two blocks away they lived when they got engaged (years before my son went to the residential program).
Hey, some good news? I needed a new nanny for Saturdays for Pearlsky. Remember, the weekday nanny has been a licensed masseuse and a chef, well, the new one is a bartender! Food AND drink! Here’s to Pearlsky …