salt in my coffee

happy tears and sad tears.
it is all the same.

over the years i have shed my fair share of sad tears.
the times when the emotions i am feeling
cannot be contained any longer and
burst through the tiniest of tear ducts.
the feelings fall down my face
in cylindrical shapes and
roll down my cheeks.

lately, i have had the strong emotions
that well up and threaten to reveal themselves.
but, they are not the sad ones that i have been so accustomed to.

they are mostly happy.
bursting forth.
like beams of sunshine striking my heart.

i do want to glean everything from my mentor and
she cries all the time.
so this must be inevitable.
just inevitable.

the anticipation of the crash.

the booming,

the thundering

that you are about to hear.

and then?

then the waves come and kiss your feet.

the sun feels so good on my face that i could just cry.
it has been a
hard
long
december
winter through may
for us
weak and fragile californians.

it’s iep season.
iykyk.
(a hug to all of the iep mamas out there.)
who wants to be average or typical anyway?

also, i may have said the phrase,
“i am so tired of babysitting adults.”
out loud.
to the team.
(note: not every single person on that zoom call needed babysitting.
there were a couple of gems logged in).

and, i may have also suggested that the team actually experience
a day of what it is like to help a child with special needs,
instead of just having meetings about said days.

supporting on paper is entirely different than actual support.
here, in real life.
where i live.

sometimes they can be a support team
and sometimes they can just be a group of people who translate
every word and
every report and
every suggestion
into how much that will cost them.

spoiler alert: those people are not actually on your team.
those people are not supporting your child.
or you.

rant over
(for now).