Sometimes I am really wrong. REALLY.

Last week, Emmi's dance class went badly. Given her past history with preschools and discrimination and such, I braced myself for her to be kicked out. I prepared every argument. Other children don't stay with the group. In fact, several others are worse than her. Yes, yes, I know she kicked a kid in the head. After she pushed the kid to the ground. But damn it that kid had been picking on her the WHOLE class. And I didn't let it slide. I made Emmi leave class. But still. All week I worried. I lost sleep. I rehashed it. To the point that Kenny told me to shut up about it. Kenny never says shut up. I had it all planned out. When they inevitably told me it would not work out to have her stay in the class, I would threaten them with deaf advocacy groups and such. It isn't her fault she is deaf. It isn't her fault she has brain damage! I did my research. I was prepared. I was shaking when I walked in the door.

And?

They had a special stand for Emmi to hold onto in class, she could keep her balance better. They thought that might be why she wasn't staying with the class. And why she was so frustrated. And also? They talked to the group after we left last week about not picking on Emmi just because she is different. From now on, anyone who picks on Emmi will be asked to leave class.

I think I love them.