Scenes from an airport.

You know when there are a handful of stalls open in the bathroom and some jerk uses the one directly next to you? I ran into the airport version of that lady. No short of 50-75 open seats at our gate. Where does she plop her entire family down? Next to me. Better yet, she’s wearing a mask, which one would *think* implies she also respects social distancing. Guess not. 

In the time that she’s sat here, in my personal bubble, I have determined that these seats are way too close. Secondly, she is married to an attorney, and has way too much faith in the $5.00 combination lock that adorns the carry on that she’s paying zero attention to. She also would really like a bottle of water, but all they have is Dasani and she won’t drink that because it’s, “swill.” (Dasani must come from Flint?? Weirdo.) In a crazy twist of irony, her husband, the attorney, gets up to fetch something and she instructs him to put his bag on the chair. Why? She doesn’t want anyone to sit next to her. No kidding lady. Who wants their personal space invaded? I guess I need to work on my, “I’m not a people person and you don’t want to sit here,” face. I’ve gone soft. 

I’ve been sitting in this terminal and I’ve already gotten texts from multiple children and Hubby… twice. When I got up this morning I had to really negotiate with myself to get out of bed and head out. Partly because I’m EXHAUSTED, partly because I’m dreading what I might come home to. It didn’t help that there was a dog snuggled up next to me that thinks I hang the moon.  He really doesn’t care too much for anyone else that’s staying home, and I wonder if the wifi dog feeders are scheduled to feed him enough. All the things I need to worry about. Medications. Brushing of teeth. Clean underwear in case you get in an accident and EMS has to cut your pants off. You know, all the normal things mom think of. 

I’m also, due to no fault of my own, leaving without one kiddo enrolled in school. I filled out all the paperwork, and it’s set to go, but Hubby won’t have the attitude required to enroll a foster child in school. You need to be stern. You need to know what the laws are and what that kids rights are. Those things shouldn’t be necessary, but here, at least in this school district, it’s totally necessary. Lucky for me, there is nothing I love more than a good confrontation before breakfast. Hubby is absolutely not that person. He doesn’t yet know that he may very well be tasked with this job. Sorry, Dear. I figured I was better off not to warn him. He’s going to show up with the filled out packet, no birth certificate, no proof of residency, no school history, and they are going to laugh at him and attempt

To refuse to give him the time of day. Children in foster care require none of those things. Seems no one at this district knows that. I’ve now had to argue it at our elementary school, middle school – twice, and high school maybe 5 or more times.  Once, I had to have the argument that no, you don’t need her disciplinary records to enroll her. You have to enroll her. Every minute that we sit and argue about this is another minute out of school you are costing this kid. Who is here, possibly at her 6th high school, out of no fault of her own. 

“When a school change is necessary, the student is required to be enrolled in the new school, without delay, even if the school records have not yet been transferred. A school district must allow the child to enroll in and attend the appropriate grade in the school selected by the Michigan Department of Health and Human Services or by a child-placing agency, even if that child doesn’t reside in that school district.” (MCL 380.1148)

I need ONE piece a paper to enroll. Just one. Administration should consider themselves lucky that I’ve filled out the entire packet and given proof or residency, along with my blood type and full DNA profile. Set aside the fact that every administrator in that high school knows who I am anyway. Common sense has long left the building. 

So when hubby walks up and expects to leave this girl at school with a backpack and a pat on the head, he’s got another thing coming.