She insists they'll still pay me, probably more hours than I'm actually working. Perfect. Amazing. Caring about people means that people care about me, too.
His behavior therapist is ridiculous, so now it's everyone in his life except me and the parents, everyone aligned against him together. His therapist, some scrawny twenty year old that thinks he knows shit because he's gotten his bachelor's, arrives late to Judge's sessions and leaves early. He's supposed to be there for three hours. We're lucky if he's there for one. On top of that, they've been charging the mother for three hours of "therapy", at which he's mediocre anyway. It's upsetting, but the more I hear his mother talk about it, the prouder I am to be a part of their lives and the happier I am that Judge has someone so willing to advocate for her child.
I guess it's the sort of thing you'd have to hear. So many parents of special need kids talk about their children like burdens, sacks of useless flesh thrust upon them by apathetic higher powers. Judge's mother has never once acted like he is too much, or too difficult, or not worth it. Everything she says, she says with love, and she handles most of the issues with him anyway. She says she doesn't want to stress her husband out. Possibly the most positive person I know, and I work with a bunch of people who teach kids. I hope it lasts. He's only four, and it's going to get harder before it gets easier.