change is gonna come

We've had a lot of changes in the last few weeks. For one, I am now the Athens editor of Patch. com, a news site owned by AOL. They are starting hundreds of them across the country. I get to work at home, I have a budget for freelancers and I am basically the captain of my ship, if not my soul. So that's all good. Except Clara insists my "real" job is taking care of her and Margaret. Which is true.
Clara is flourishing at school, learning to write, playing with other kids, enjoying the many science experiments they do in her preschool class. Margaret is a different story. She wakes up happy every day; she loves going to school, loves her Hello, Kitty lunchbox and her coat. She loves her teachers. But today, Margaret was tossed out of school. From out of nowhere, the principal told me the school could no longer meet Margaret's needs. It was such a shock because we had a meeting about three weeks ago during which they told us Margaret was much improved. She is engaging other children in social situations and being friendly to them. A specialist from the public school system comes to work with Margaret twice a week in her classroom. An occupational therapist comes once every other week.
But all of that about progress and doing well was just hot air, I reckon. Today I heard reports of a disruptive child who doesn't engage socially with other kids, who doesn't understand basic concepts. When I asked the specialist about this, she was floored. And very angry. No one ever mentioned any problems to her. No one ever suggested they work on specific issues with Margaret. She was caught off guard as much as we were.
I spoke not a word while the principal was talking. it was clear to me that the fix was in, so to speak.
So now we are scrambling to figure out what to do with Margaret. To keep her moving forward and learning things. We will be able to visit her occupational therapist twice a week so she can work on developing her fine motor skills. And the specialists will continue to serve her twice a week.
It's too late to get into a pre-K class or another preschool. They fill up in Athens very very fast.
I was crying over this today, because neither Margaret nor Clara understands what's going on. I'm not sure I do. I am putting a positive spin on it for Tita's sake. I don't want her to feel weird about herself.
I guess I will continue to make her a lunch and pack it in her Hello, Kitty lunchbox. At least that doesn't have to change for her.