The trials of Having a Special Needs Child

So I am going to entitle this blog The trials of having a special needs child. I have already spoken to most of my dear friends on what is going on, and I wasn't going to blog about it, but in the off chance someone needs help with what I have been dealing with, I thought I would put it out there... So here goes...

As read in my previous blog, Dakota has been suffering with toxic synovitis. I decided to send him back to school on Wednesday, after a week and a day of rest. I felt he was able to resume normal activities enough to go to school. And since I would be volunteering at the church that day, I knew if something went wrong, I would only be 5 minutes away. So I drop him off and start explaining to the teacher, whom we shall refer to as Ms. D. and his Asst Teacher whom we shall call Mrs A. As I begin my story to them, Ms. D, rudely shouted to Mrs A to get the kids to the table and feed them breakfast, and she will listen to my story. This rudeness actually rendered me speechless. So i took a second to collect myself and resumed my story, pivoting both to Ms. D and to Mrs A. I personally felt that both teachers should hear what has happened so they both know how best to deal with my child's injury. I specifically told them, he is okay to resume normal activities, but wanted them to keep an eye out for a specific child who pushes others down. I didn't want Dakota pushed down onto his hurt leg. Mrs A even went as far as to ask me if he could go onto the playground and I said yes. So, I left feeling confident that they heard and understood me. So I got in the car and headed to Walmart to grab a soda before headed to church. I called LJ to tell him how rude Ms D was to Mrs A, and how I was slightly offended they did that in front of me. No sooner did I hang up with LJ the school nurse calls and my heart fell to my feet. I thought immediately something happened to Dakota. But I was so very wrong. The nurse says she just got a call from the teacher stating that Dakota couldn't be moved, touched or held, and she was gonna need a doctors note to allow Dakota back in school. Say WHAAAAAT?!?! I never said that! So she said there must be some form of miscommunication. At this point I was angry, I was angry from them fighting in front of me and angry that she didn't hear a word I said. So I asked to be patched over to the principal. I left a voicemail addressing my concerns.
Fast forward to the end of the day. I still ha vent heard from he principal so I marched up to the office and demanded to speak to her. She wasn't available but I go the Asst Principal, which was fine by me. SO i told her everything that had happened this morning. I felt confident that my voice was heard. Onward to pick up Dakota. He was laying in his cot, like everyone else. So I grabbed him and went to go get his backpack from his cubby outside the door. Mrs. A, the assistant followed me. SO i asked her how his day was .... drum roll please... "Oh he did good, HE WAS STRAPPED TO HIS CHAIR ALL DAY" Ohhhhh MYYYYY GOOOOSSSHHHHH. I about fell on the floor. I repeated, " strapped in his chair??" Yep, she said. She said she tried to move him and Ms.D said be careful how you move him, if you break his leg it will be my fault. As I removed the knife that she had just stabbed in my chest, my face started getting redder and redder, I was sooooooo MAD. So i grabbed Dakota and ran to the car to call the Principal back, I left a very very nasty message.
Fast forward to the next morning.I decided to confront the teacher about what happened yesterday and give her the benefit of the doubt. I calmly asked her int he classroom if I can speak with her and she said yes. So I asked her where the miscommunication occurred yesterday. And she said what do I mean. And I said Well I am pretty sure I was clear when I said Dakota could resume normal activities. And then I get a call from the nurse saying he cant be touched moved or held. And she said oh I never said that, THEN she started walking into the hallway, to get the therapist to back her up. The hallway where my already loud voice is amplified, mind you. So she said to the therapist, I never said that right??? The therapist had no idea what was going on and looked like a deer in headlights. So then I asked her, was my son strapped ot a chair all day. And her reply... Who told you that... hmmm she never said NO. I said a few people told me that... She said well who, and I said I'm not going to tell you. So she started panicking. She said her 'supervisor' told her Dakota needed rest. I told her Dakota had a week of rest, I TOLD you he could resume normal activities. And she kept saying her supervisor this, her supervisor that. So I knew a this point it was going no where. I ended it and started to leave... then I heard click click click, I look behind me and the therapist is chasing me down the hall in her heals. She asked if she could speak with me, I said absolutely. She said that in fact, Ms D DID tell her Dakota could not receive therapy due to the fact that he could not be moved held or touched. Now I ask you, Moms out there, if your child could not be moved held or touched, would you send them to school?? I mean do I have idiot written on my forehead?? seriously?? So again I placed another call to the principal.
Fast forward to picking him up that day. As I enter the kindergarten pod, one of the other teachers stops me and says, they moved Mrs A. NOW i WAS REALLY MAD. That was Dakotas favorite teacher of all, he only went potty for her, and he only took naps with her. Now he is in a class room with Liar Liar Pants on fire and some lady he doesn't even know taking Mrs A's place. So that teacher says, don't tell anyone I told you.. and I said no problem. But really I am thinking, "Am I on a hidden TV show?" "Is this really happening??" So I go to pick up Dakota and sure enough no one I know in there except for Ms D. I grabbed Dakota and left. Again calling the principal. I called my mom on the way home soo very upset. And she said enough is enough, call the the superintendent. This was also the advice of my aunt, who had to deal with similar issues when her kids were growing up. So i did. I called Julie Jannessens office the second I got home. She said she would get to the bottom of it.
Fast forward to 8:30PM. I finally get a call from the principal. Her question?? "whats going on?" Oh yeah, I let her have it, I spilled every detail. She said she was aware of the rudeness going on in the classroom, which is why She move Mrs A. She said she was having someone from the state come down and observe the class on Friday. And she said she would be popping in there more often. She also said she was there the day Dakota was strapped in all day, and she said the three times she went in he was not strapped.. I am still not convinced.
Fast forward to the next morning, Friday. I walked in and Dropped off Dakota. Ms D, finally introduced me to her help. ~ Hi nice to meet you, in my so not enthused tone.~ Gave Kota a ton of kisses and left. Fast forward to picking him up. The state worker was there, she came up and introduced herself and mentioned that I had concerns for the class, and that she would like to call me. PERFECT, someone who wants to listen to me! So she is supposed to call me this weekend. Then Dakota comes up to me and sticks out his tongue. For those who know him, he does this when there is something in his mouth, or teeth or on his tongue. So I look in there, to see.. normally its dirt or a hair or a toy. I see blue in his teeth. My first thought is that they had blue cookies or cupcakes or something and its stuck in his teeth. My hear fell when I looked over and everyone was playing with play dough. So i asked, did Dakota eat some play dough. Immediately Ms D said no, he wasn't even near the play dough table. SO i look again, I again said He has blue play dough in his teeth. So Ms D counteracts with ohhhh, he tried to get it, but I got it in time... SO i laugh and say AGAIN... you were unsuccessful HE HAS PLAY DOUGH IN HIS TEETH. SO the new asst says ( to try and lighten the mood) I don't know about you Dakota,, but I prefer red play dough. OY. Get me outta here.

So as it stands right now, I am awaiting a call from the state worker. And I have to keep an extra close eye on my son. he cant tell me what is going on, so I have to be Sherlock Holmes and try to get clues. What kind of life is this??

Motto for this story: Parents, be your child's advocate. if you don't, then who will. Don't be afraid to speak up. The squeaky wheel, will eventually get the grease.