Gutsy would rather attend the school of phat beatz.

I'm pretty sure when the teacher's aide told me Gutsy said he didn't need to do his work because he's just going to get a job as a DJ when he's older anyway, that I was supposed to have my Serious Mom Face on.

Unfortunately, my Serious Mom Face was replaced by my Hysterical Laughter Face, and this lasted for many seconds and perhaps nearly a minute until I realized I was the only one laughing and that I should probably stop.

People involved in the education system, please stop frowning at the screen and waving your naughty finger at me. I get it, ok?

I know it's not cool that DJ Gutsy-Gutz threw down the beat pencil and refused to do his work.

I know he really needs to drop the bass attitude if he's going to succeed in school.

I know I have to tell him not to be a treble shaker troublemaker and do what's asked of him.

Yeah, I'm still totally laughing. It comes in waves. I'm trying my best to be mature and mom-like, but I'm having a hard time.

I think I basically snapped yesterday. Went off the deep end. Packed my bags and moved into the yellow submarine. Hiked deep into the woods of my mind and started living in a tin cabin and whittling things and growing a beard and shit.

I am so damn sick of living in the seriousness that is special needs parenting. I'm tired of being worried, of crying, of stressing, of watching him struggle, of wishing things were different for him. I'm tired of the scheduling and advocating and meetings and appointments and expectations and targets and individualized education plans and everything else that has become our family's life.

And all I could think of when I was told about his DJ dreams, was that this kid hates school because he can't understand half of what's going on, we don't have a plan in place yet for this processing disorder stuff. We don't know yet how best to help him. So each day the poor boy has to go to school, get frustrated, feel stupid, be told to work harder, and come home exhausted.

Every.

Single.

Day.

But you know what he's not half bad at? Using a mixer and some software to blend songs together. That's what makes him feel good and in control. That's what gives him a shred of confidence. So you know, I get why he said that. He has a goal, and that's more than he used to have. He has a plan, and that's keeping him from falling apart again. He has his sights set on becoming the next big EDM star. He might actually do it, too. He's a ten-year-old with talent.

If that dream is going to keep him from feeling like shit about himself, I'm ok with it. In fact, I'll be his biggest cheerleader.

Of course, in between feeling a bit of rebel pride for my little square peg in a round hole, I also talked to him about the importance of doing his school work, told him how important language and math skills are to a DJ, and talked to both the teacher and the aide about our latest findings. We still have some testing to do before we know exactly where the processing issues lie and how best to help him, but it's like light bulbs went on around the room. Suddenly, why he's struggling makes more sense to everyone.

The psychologist was hesitant to talk to Gutsy about his processing disorder just yet. He wanted to wait until we were finished testing and had a plan. But I'm tired of hearing the pain in my child's voice when he talks about school, so I used the powers bestowed upon me as his mom to discuss it in the car yesterday.

"Now, I don't want you to bad about yourself because it's a 'disorder,' Gutsy. All it means is that your brain is wired differently. You can still do great in school, you'll just need to do some of your learning in new ways"

"Don't worry, Mom. I'm not sad or upset or anything. I feel a little better, actually. Now I understand why I have such a hard time. It makes a lot of sense."

Relief in his voice. I felt him relax. That was definitely the right thing to do.

See? Serious Mom Face. I've got it. I'm not just all rebel yells and fits of laughter.

I hope he remembers how awesome I am and, more importantly, how much I like vacations when he's a wildly successful club star.