In a couple hours we go to the school to iron out the 504 and then stand before the teacher, the principal, the guidance counselor, the gym teach, the art teacher, the janitor, the mailman and possibly the Newark Boys Choir to teach Charlie 101.
From the amount of instruction we've printed out for the staff, you'd think Charlie was going away to a boarding school in Antarctica with no communication allowed between us and the school. In reality, he's going for only 2 1/2 hours each day to a school I can see from my bedroom window.
Still, it's freak out time! School starts tomorrow.