Is there anybody out there who has experience taking care of special-needs kids who can keep Calvin alive for me on Thursday, May 21, 2015, between the hours of 3 and 6 p.m.?
I need a sitter, and not just any sitter will do. Because my child has autism, in case I haven't mentioned it. And make no mistake, I've been working for years to try and solve this problem so I wouldn't end up in these binds all the time so that I have to grovel all abject and pathetic for someone to help yank my ass out of the fire. But I have not yet experienced the glory of snagging that brass ring. Because, speaking of asses, it appears I'm the butt of some sick joke that someone in the vast machine that is public policy thinks is really really REALLY cute.
The way it works is this. They tell you that your child's severe disability means there are wonderful, humane services available to help you out here and there. And there are. You've seen them. They are not the mere stuff of legend. You have friends in situations similar to yours whose families have had access to these services for some time now.
But let's get something straight. You are NOT entitled to such services that would make life so much more bearable for your family. Someone tells you this right out the gate--so don't get cocky, cowgirl. The point is, though, they're out there, those possibilities of help, and you can find out if you're eligible for them, and then you can apply for them.
We won't tell you how exactly to do this applying thing, it's kind of trial and error. You have a decent chance of making it, though, kind of like the guys who found the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Nag Hammadi Library. But that's part of the magical adventure of it all, sort of a Pirates of the Caribbean meets Raiders of the Lost Ark deal. So just follow the yellow brick road, then when the road changes color with no warning follow that one, for a while until you realize it was the wrong one (no it wasn't, ha ha), so then of course you just jump in this here helicopter, make a left at the unicorn on the motorcycle, hike the Himalayas at dusk, straight on down the rabbit hole till morning.
Ok, fine, you can do that, and so you do, because you're a good citizen who follows all the rules, makes all the calls, fills out all the papers, goes to all the medical appointments, gets the mandatory special evaluations, then gets them again when the ones you already have are too old, goes to all the interviews, attends all the mandatory classes, then goes to new mandatory classes because the old ones don't count anymore (ha ha again, you silly), then you find out why your caseworker has disappeared, oh she's been replaced and no one told you, ok, cool, no problem, I'm easy, I got nothing going on over here, just everybody chill, take your time, no worries, I'm doing GREAT.
So you bust your ass, full time, year after year with that carrot dangled in front of you (the one that your child is not entitled to, please don't get the wrong idea), and the punchline is that you never ever fucking get there. At least that's where I'm at. Have been at. For like ever. Is that not a laugh riot? I am so cracking up. My whole family is. Most of all my boy, who works harder within the space of an hour than I do in a month even with all these fun hoops I get to jump through.
Nice, right?
Anyway, May 21. Anyone?
