45 Minutes

It took Max 45 minutes to heat his after school snack today. 45 minutes, people! This was a snack. Not a four course meal. I suppose, if he wants to spend his time that way, I why should I care? And yet, I do. It majorly tried my patience to have him sitting there for 45 minutes, not really eating.

I suggested he might not be hungry because his wonderful school hopped him up with three St Patrick's Day cookies and some candy today. I've about had it with this school. I'd really like to send him to a different one next year. Meanwhile, in addition to the candy, no mention was made of the erasers he spent last week ripping off of the classroom's pencils. I mean, really.

Max has a cold right now. The cough acts up, amazingly, whenever he sits down to eat or read. I imagine that, at school, it's the same thing. He as so much energy that he had no trouble participating big time in PE today, but I'm sure his teacher things I'm sending him to school on death's door because of the coughing. Sense getting up from his snack, he has not yet coughed. That was 15 minutes ago. While eating, it was about 4 coughs a minutes.

The rule about coughing is that he has to cover his mouth, preferably with the crook of his elbow and turn his head away from anyone nearby and from anyplace where we eat or prepare food. He was sitting there eating, mostly remembering to turn, (Ah, he just coughed!) but occasionally forgetting. I looked at him to make sure he was turning at one point. He looked at me, coughed again and then started wheezing.

Now, Max was on in inhalant steroid and an oral steroid in addition to taking a daily antihistamine when he came to us. The reason for all of the drugging? An asthma cough, according to his foster mom. I can't imagine what doctor gave him all of this medicine. He coughs because it's dramatic and gets attention. The steroids are dangerous. He does not even have asthma. He has an attention-getting cough. But, he thought he'd see if he could get my sympathy with the wheezing. Once I made it clear that I wasn't impressed, he dropped it.

He is now, surprisingly, entertaining himself. This is surprising because it so rarely happens without the aid video games. And it's great. But the reason why isn't so great. He has to write a note to his teacher, explaining that he ripped the heads off of at least 10 of the class room pencils. He was given the opportunity to do it verbally this morning, but chose not to. So, now he has to write it out. Until that's done, he's on a sort of grounding - no video games, no playing with friends, no playing with Anthony or Davan or I, no sports practices or meetings. Rather than write the note, he's playing by himself.

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I just got a call from his adoption lawyer. The adoption should be finalized in about a month. Max was very nonchalant about the news. Hmmmm.