The Dad and I showed up at our therapy session for Hope at the school. We spent about ten minutes filling the therapist in on the past weeks rages. She called down to Hope’s classroom and asked one of the aides to bring her up. Shortly after there was a knock on the door (the therapist rates an air conditioner) and in comes Hope. Her teacher had brought her up instead of the aide. First time that has happened. The teacher asked to stay. She wanted to talk to us about Hope’s rage Monday. I assumed she meant when Hope beat the crap out of me. She assumed I knew Hope had raged at school. I didn’t know Hope had raged at school. I asked why I hadn’t heard about it before. Miss VY Teacher said she assumed the Director of Special Ed had told me.
The rage started in the classroom, and by the time the 2 aides got her to the bus, it took ten minutes and three people to get Hope on the bus. Nobody called me. The driver didn’t tell me, the aide on the bus didn’t tell me. Hope came off the bus crying, but that is not unusual. All Hope said was that she wanted me to pick her up.
It is good that the school has finally seen Hope in full rage mode. I wish they had told me when it happened, because if they had, I would not have taken her to gymnastics. That MIGHT have avoided the rage in the waiting room. Maybe I wouldn’t have all the bruises and gouges on my arms. It is 95 degrees here and I refuse to cover them up. Three people to wrestle her on to the bus and nobody told me about it. Sigh.