Susan Senator

That’s all I’m asking for. I need those 15 minutes on Wednesdays so I can get Ben home from therapy with a few minutes’ buffer before Nat gets home from school. Lately the driver had been bringing Nat home at 3:45, getting him 15 minutes late from school, and this had worked out perfectly for Ben and me. Prior to that, Ben had been getting very anxious about going to therapy, because he was afraid we’d be home late for Nat and Nat would have a tantrum in the bus if I was not there.

The school administration seems pissed off now because I did the 15-minute buffer thing. So now I have to go back to the 3:30 drop-off, and find a way to appease both Ben and Nat. I think I am about to hire a young man studying to be a physical therapist to come and work with Nat as a buddy. Maybe he can get to our house at 3:30 and bring Nat inside, before I get home with Ben. But then, of course, I’ll be stressed worrying that the new helper won’t be able to handle Nat on his own.

Where’s Max in all this? Off with his friends. That’s as it should be. Yes, I could ask him to do this for me, but actually he gets scared by Nat’s tantrums, as big as he is. It isn’t about size. It’s about not knowing what, exactly, to do. It is upsetting for everyone. I don’t want that for Max.

So in this game of who has to pay for it, who has to take the punch, it will always be me, because I’m the mother. I’m the one who gives the biggest shit, so they’ve got me by the balls, and believe me, I’ve got huge metaphorical ones. Yeah, I’m pissed. I need a more understanding world; anyone know where I can find one?