Today I need a white charger to ride to work. Not that I don't adore my volvo, but it isn't suited to the occasion.
Chainmail would also be very cool. Maaaybe it would intimidate people in the meeting whom I don't wish to intimidate, though.
I need a sword, or the lasso of truth from wonder woman. Or an orb of blazing light. (Although I'm pretty sure I'd misuse that for fun)
I have data. I have documentation. What I don't have are the words to say to a parent that will tell her the hard truth as gently and compassionately as possible.
I am here to fight for a child. I am not fighting against a parent but beside her. First, though, I have to recruit her to the cause and it is by far a painful thing to hear. If it were my child...I do not know, cannot know how I would react, resist, revolt.
Because knowing it on paper is not the same as knowing it about your own child who is a piece of your heart. Any seeming attack on your child is the simplest way to bring out your inner avenging angel and also the swiftest way to hurt your most vulnerable self.
I become all-out enraged when a family member refers to my child as "hyper" when she is just running around like one year olds do.
So I cannot fathom what I would think or feel or say if a lot of experts sat around a table and told me that my child had a challenge I could not remove with any force of love or alchemy. That there was no force of good or evil who would buy my sorry soul in ransom for my child's future.
I don't feel brave. I feel unarmed. And so profoundly sad.