Carolyn and I quit everything.  Vision Therapy, home visits, occupational therapy.  Everything. Back in February we sliced out quite a few things – chorus, the new reading program, gymnastics.  This week, we canned everything else.  Monday mornings we still have my chiropractor appointment.  The rest of the week is open.

I didn’t tell the vision therapist properly; I simply cancelled my appointments.  She called up to urge us to keep coming.  ‘Carolyn really needs this therapy,’ she said. Yes, I agree.  Carolyn really does need this therapy.  But, I told the vision therapist, we’ve got to put it on hold for a while. I let her know that we felt the therapy is very important and we intend to come back.  I assured her that I knew that Carolyn’s progress did not put us in the clear.  I tell her we plan to keep working on the homework we’ve already been given and doing eye exercises at home, as part of our regular curriculum.

‘It might only be a month,’ I tell her.  I am polite, but I’m not negotiating.

None of this seems to reassure her at all.  She keeps trying to persuade me until I mention, ‘It’s not just you, by the way.  We’re stopping everything.  The in-home person, the occupational therapy, all of it.’  Her attitude seems to change a little.  Not to understanding, but more as if she has realized the truth: she is dealing with a lunatic.  There is nothing she can do to change it.  She reiterates that she thinks I am making the wrong choice, but lets it go.

I tell one mom, ‘I started reading this book called, ‘Just Too Busy.’

‘That’s right,’ she responds.  ‘Simplify.  I’d love to do that.’

I tell another mom, ‘We need some time to do reading, writing, and math.’

‘Absolutely,’ she replies.  ‘And just be a kid.  Play outside.  I’m with you, 100%.’

‘I can’t believe it,’ says another mom.

The occupational therapist is agreeable.  ‘Sure, no problem.  You can always do it later.’

‘How do you feel about it?’ asks my mom, on the phone.

I feel ecstatic.  Delighted, relieved.  Confident, proud, hopeful.  Ready.

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