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Friday, February 27, 2015

Pimp Slapped

I woke up this morning thinking, Wow! I thought the worst part was over. We made it through middle school. We made it through high school.  It was torture for him.  It was torture for me. It was torture for his teachers and administrators, but we made it!

I thought for sure the worst was behind us, but the reality of transition to adulthood has really just pimped slapped me in the face. Bam! This kid is kicking and screaming to hold on to childhood and it's just wearing me out.

According to Wiktionary.org this is the definition of pimp slap, in case you're not familiar.

  1. (slang, vulgar) A powerful slap to the face;[1]  [quotations ▼]

Usage notes[edit]

  • For some English speakers, there is a distinction between a pimp slap and a bitch slap, in which a pimp slap is backhanded (delivered with the back of the hand), while a bitch slap is openhanded (delivered with the palm of the hand). For most speakers, however, the two terms are synonymous, referring equally to either kind of slap.

Pimp slapping is carefully demonstrated here.

I sat in a meeting with his Job Coach, his Occupational Therapist, his Transition Teacher, the Transition Coordinator for the school district, myself and his father yesterday to discuss his goals for his annual I.E.P.  He sat there with this scowl on his face like we were all there to persecute him instead of help him. He balked, and disagreed with every suggestion and offer of support. 

I'm like wow! All of these people are gathered here to help you darlin', not hurt you! We all want nothing but the best for you. But the bottom line is you have to want this for yourself! We can't want it for you! 

We left that meeting after almost 2 hours and went to an appointment with his doctor. He ended up yelling at me in front of her, right there, in her office. She was quite disturbed ...shocked even. I was like, Honey, this is normal. This is just an average day. 

We had a third meeting scheduled after that appointment. This one was Person Centered Planning, another group of mentors getting together to help him work on short-term goals. I knew he wouldn't make it through that meeting without exploding. I had him contact his facilitator to postpone it. 

When we got home, I got him to settle down, take a shower and relax a bit. We walked through some of the scenarios discussed during the day. He was able to come to terms with a few things and actually took some action.  He actually contacted his job to open up his schedule with more availability for work. The busier he is, the less time he has to get into trouble. 

That's just one of the changes that we are about to implement for him. 

By the time I hit my bed last night, I definitely felt like I had been pimp slapped followed by a swift kick in the a**!