I've been pretty busy lately, running through to-do lists like it's going out of style.
I've been trying to eat up the food in the fridge and the pantry, go through papers and clean out clutter, dot all the Is and cross the Ts.
We'll be moving soon and there are so many things that I want to accomplish here before we do, but then I also have to think ahead to where we're going.
It feels like just when I'm starting to get things figured out, it's time to go.
But that's life in the military, right?
I started calling prospective preschools a while ago and then stopped. For a few reasons.
1. People don't get back to me with promised info.
2. My phone calls don't get returned.
3. I have to continue to live life here.
4. It all gets to be very draining.
and, most heavy on my mind...
4. I was blown away by the acceptable discrimination.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think that people who have don't have children with disabilities realize how disgusting it feels to have to call and ask schools, over and over and over again, if they will accept your child.
Because they're allowed to say no.
I mean, you could try and just show up and enroll your Little, but dealing with the shock (and maybe even horror) of the other person while they're standing in your face isn't exactly ideal either.
This part? Not so fun.
I figured that once I found the perfect school or program, I could then narrow down where we should live and start looking for places accordingly.
Months later, I am no closer to that goal than when I started.
So, in an act of ultimate denial, today, I hung pictures on the wall.
As if we're not going anywhere for a long, long time.
They look great up there though.
So I'm happy.
I’ll come back to the hard stuff soon enough.