I’ve heard this phrase quite often, especially after I became a mother. Parents with children older than mine would sigh, look down and say, “Oh…just wait… little kids, little problems. Big kids; big problems.” I did not like when that was said. Depending on my mood, I would respond, “Have you met Thomas?” Other times I would say nothing and walk away rolling my eyes upside my head.

I learned to be a very outspoken mother when Thomas was younger. When he was 3, he was evaluated by a physician who wrote that my son was “mentally retarded” per Thomas’ IQ. I had not read the eval yet when the psychologist on the team, before the team meeting quietly warned me that that was in that physician’s report. This was Thomas’ early intervention exit meeting. I was furious that the physician didn’t tell me this himself. I’ll never forget; I was by myself at this meeting. When we sat at the table I aggressively told the physician I thought he was wrong and I wanted an addendum written that I disagreed. The physician was arrogant and sputtered and argued and I stood my ground. Weeks later I realized I never received the amended report; called the early intervention center and asked why it wasn’t done. The receptionist became quiet, then told me the physician had died. Oh. Didn’t I read about it in the paper? He was very important, the head of this center, blah, blah… All I could think of was how cold and arrogant he was. I said, well did he write my addendum? I received the amended eval a week or so later.

This is one of the many meetings I sat in for Thomas. I was at every IEP meeting. Never over the phone. I wasn’t working outside the home so why shouldn’t I be there? The table was full of attendees during those years. And I would go alone. One time my wonderful friend Diane drove in from Long Island to come with me. It was great! She wore a red blazer and is kind of tall and everyone was soooo interested in who she was. Good times.

It was very frustrating that every professional evaluation until Thomas was about 6 years old would state his IQ level, the various testing methods that were performed, that he was speech impaired, mention the aggressive behavior at home, but never any kind of diagnosis. He saw many doctors. If I thought a specialist could help him, we were there. If they took our insurance it was a bonus. When Thomas was almost 6 years old I found a specialist psychiatrist in Manhattan. No he did not take insurance. I didn’t care. For the first time in my life I drove to Manhattan by myself. Definitely a milestone. This doctor diagnosed my son and he began medication. We stayed with this physician until Thomas attended residential school the first time.

When the girls were younger yes we had a few problems that commonly occur to younger children. The most traumatizing; lice! After many rounds of “that” shampoo, coupled with a few physician endorsed home remedies, Alyssa and Lelly learned real fast not to hug friends or put their heads close together. Nor hang their jackets at school one on top of another in a stupidly crowded coat closet. I actually had a heated argument with Lelly’s 5th grade teacher, that she was not to keep her winter jacket in the crowded closet with everyone else’s. I very sternly told my daughter to put her jacket in her book bag or in a large plastic bag that I provided. The argument with the teacher reached the Principal’s office. So insane. The solution? Omg, they cleaned out a closet in the classroom that was being used to store supplies and Lelly was to use that closet as her own personal coat closet. Yes, they did. Anyway I won and my daughter escaped lice that year.

No such thing as little kids little problems; big kids big problems. Nope.

The school I work at is a 12 month program. September to June same as regional/schools that teach neurotypical children. Then the beginning of July to approximately mid August. I believe 30 days/6 weeks, is the length of summer session. I’ve been working at my job for 7 years. Everyone who knows me, knows I love what I do. The decision to work summer has not been a difficult one to make. In years past the atmosphere and overall mood is lighter, there is a theme; this year was the Olympic Games of course. I can say I have not disliked working summer since I’ve been hired. Especially the past few years working together with Meg, my awesome co-worker/nurse/incredible friend. She’s the type of nurse whose way of thinking is, “let’s just get it done.” Never saying, “that’s not my student” or if she’s finished with her work; sit and watch me run around like a nut. Btdt with other co workers it’s not good.

When I was asked if I were working this year’s summer, I didn’t think twice and said I took this job to work, and to be honest summer money is good as well as loop the people. The hardest working teachers and paras are at my school. It’s always said that hindsight is 20/20. I really dislike that it is so so true.

I did not have an all too pleasant summer working. One could say well…it is *work* what did you expect. I know how hard my co workers and I work. I know we are unintentionally hidden from the majority of the public who aren’t even aware that my school and so many others like it exist. That our fragile students actually attend school and are able to learn and be taught.

This summer was the first time in my nursing career that I felt disrespected. I’ve worked in many professional environments as an RN, not to mention I am Thomas’ mother. Up until the summer of 2024 there were instances where of course I felt unappreciated, most nurses have felt that way and if they say they have never they are lying. But being disrespected; that is a new one for me personally.

Strangely enough, the disrespect came from all angles except from the parents of my students. And to top it off, disrespect and insult was glaringly displayed from another nurse! She works for a local pediatric practice housed within a large corporation. I witnessed and have documentation of her blatant lying and insult. Recently I obtained her name I do not know what comes next, if anything. Karma sucks and God doesn’t like ugly.

This is the first summer I counted down the days to the end of the program. Never before have I done that. I’m always like, ok…we agreed to work this…come on…” in a good natured way. This summer, the end of the day bell rang and I was out of there. I had had enough for one day.

I worked extremely hard as most nurses have; for my license to practice working as a registered professional nurse. I hold myself and other professionals to a high standard as well as the paraprofessionals I work with. Disrespect is not something I ascribe to. No one is beneath another, we’re all here for a reason. This summer, on the unfortunate upside I witnessed the true nature of persons I thought otherwise. Some so good and some not good at all.

I plan to enjoy the remainder of my time off appreciating my children and family, specifically spending time with and talking/chatting. Inviting myself to Megs house and looking forward to the good events on the horizon. As I write this I’m on the beach, it’s a good day.