Let it be known that I am much more articulate in print than I am in person. Especially when I am upset. I am much like Pacha’s wife Chicha in The Emperor’s New Groove. When she gets mad she snorts and fumes and yells a few incomplete thoughts then finally decides to go clean something to burn off the steam. You can tell she’s mad, but as far as effective communicating goes. . . well, not so much.

We have been trying, quite unsuccessfully, to access the resources available on base and in our community for exceptional children. We’ve been trying for almost a year (when I say we I mean I). I have made countless phone calls and each time I have been lucky enough to make human contact I have been sent to someone else. I am quite sure that two thirds of the people I have spoken with (or listened to their charming, “I’m so busy that I don’t feel like doing my job and helping you so suck it” phone messages) could be sacked and replaced with a flow chart of who to call next and they would never be missed.

I am to the point now where I am automatically mad at anyone who I do manage to contact because I am sure they are just going to pass me on to the next guy or not return my phone calls. Like a jilted lover, I scorn before I have the chance to get hurt again. It’s not productive.

In a fit of anger about two weeks ago I told Chris it was his turn to deal with the bureaucracy because no one ever listens to me because I lack the uniform that makes me considered Someone To Be Feared And Obeyed. Seeing that I meant it, he got on the job.

Yesterday he had a meeting with his commander and first shirt to discuss how some stuff was going. Our biggest goal right now is to get moved into a house with a fenced in back yard because then when Jonas escapes the house he would still be enclosed in a safe place instead of running into the street after crows.

The commander said that the Family Support Center people had been a little put out when I declined some of the help they offered me. Since I have been nursing a year’s worth of anger and frustration I sat down to write a letter to explain what was going on and what we needed. I tried very, very hard not to just write “EVERYONE I’VE TALKED TO HAS BEEN COMPLETELY USELESS” twelve million times. I tried very hard to write a letter that effectively communicated our family’s needs. When I asked Chris what he thought he said that it was mostly good, but I was a bit argumentative at points. I had my mother read it and she thought I expressed myself well without being mean or ridiculous. So I had Chris take it to his first shirt.

Ten minutes after Chris walked out of the door the first shirt and the commander had me on speaker phone and were expressing that they were here to help, they saw how frustrated I have been and that they were going to cut through the red tape and knock down the doors to get my son the house he needs. (Really, truly, I’m not kidding here). I admit I was a bit shocked. Considering that everyone else I have spoken with has sworn to call me back and then forgotten, it’s understandable. They then told me to make a list of the other areas we were hoping to help Jonas in and they would get the ball rolling there too. I think my brain shut off at the sound of people who were actually going to help me. . .I’m not sure what I said after that I was so surprised.

At any rate, we are getting help. People with actual power are going to make stuff happen that we really can’t make happen without them. I’m grateful. Now I can’t wait to see what happens.