I am Different Mom

Today was Child 1's last day of 5th grade; next year he moves on to Middle School. For the past few weeks I have been thinking of nothing but the fact of his getting older. How far he has come since we started Elementary school. How much (little) he spoke when he first walked through that door. How much help he needed just to navigate the day inside the classroom. Today he makes his way effortlessly on his own. He knows that school like the back of his hand; the places to hide when his aides are making him "work too much." The hallways he runs up and down when he gets his regular sensory breaks. The bathrooms he goes inside to escape from the crowds.

I remember that first Back to School Night of Kindergarten, sitting in those tiny little chairs with the other parents as they talked about what they wanted for their child who would also make their way through this experience of Elementary School. That one Other Mom, the one who made an impact on me. She talked about how she wanted her daughter to grow as a person, to learn, not only academic subjects, but Life Subjects, as well. She wanted her daughter to experience the world and learn that not all people were like her. To embrace differences, because that's what life was about. I remember, being so scared of Elementary School, and thinking how amazing it was that Other Parents actually thought about differences. What an amazing thing, for my child, that Other Kids might be ready to embrace his differentness.

The years went on, and Other Mom and I worked on projects for the PTA and became friends. I like her; a lot, actually. She's a great person and a great example of the kind of parent that lives in this town with me. She's nice, she cares about her community, she believes in giving back and she knows it's not all just about her and her family. She's so cool I could show her this post and she would be okay with it. And not a day goes by that I don't feel lucky and so grateful that I live in the town where I live; where people are open and accepting of differences, and they teach their kids the same. I know this city is unique in that respect, and I would never leave here or take my kids away from such an open, accepting, and diverse experience. The people here genuinely care, and I'm grateful for that. I am.

But still, we know these things; when we talk. We all know... that I am Different Mom. My kid is Different Kid. He isn't like the other kids, and when we talk to each other we are very much aware that my experience, and my child's experience, isn't the same as theirs.  It doesn't make us outcasts, but we're all still thinking about it. I pick a Middle School with different priorities; my kid doesn't have friends he wants to stay with through the transition. My kid will need support to make it through the day. To find the new bathroom to hide in when he wants to escape from the crowds. To navigate a new hallway when his aides are making him work too hard. These things are hanging heavy in the air when we casually discuss where we're going next. We all know that I am Different Mom. It's okay, of course it is. But it's still there. Hanging heavy.

And yesterday? Yesterday it was her kid on the stage at that promotion ceremony, introducing herself as Student Counsel President. And it's her kid, this evening, who goes to the parties to celebrate this occasion of graduating. And it's my kid who stays home, because he has no interest in sharing this event with his peers. And it's my kid who doesn't even want to talk about what he thinks about the whole thing. And we know, as we talk, that these are our differences. And we know, as we talk, that these things will always make us different.

And tonight... I don't want to be Different Mom; I want to be like them. I want to have the kid who celebrates with his friends that he's done with Elementary school. I want to have the kid who wants to stay up all night. Tonight I mourn my differentness, the one I wasn't born into but had thrust upon me by my child who was. Tonight... I don't want to be Different Mom.

Tomorrow will be different, of course. Tomorrow the memory of promotion ceremonies and graduation class parties will fade, and I will get back to thinking about summer and planning our transition to the next part of our lives, but tonight? Tonight I want to be like them. Tonight I want to be Other Mom, too.

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Standardized testing

State tests are this week in our district. Child 1 takes some different test and they pull him out of class and into the Resource Room for it. He thinks it's a nice break from the usual classroom boredom. This is Child 2's first year having to suffer through it. I happen think it's cruel to make 2nd graders go through this bullshit, half the kids are freaking out because teachers put so much emphasis on the importance of these things.

First of all, just so you know, depending on which state you live in, you might be able to opt your kids out of having to sit through this bullshit. Check out United Opt Out or FairTest for more information. If your kid has an IEP don't just take the word of the school district that he or she MUST take the test, that might not necessarily be true.

Anyway, I haven't opted either of my kids out because they both don't give a shit. If either of them ever for a minute showed any sign of distress about it, I would pull them in a New York minute; in California all you have to do is say "I would like to opt my kid out" and BOOM. All done. Administration will tell you that you can't, but they would be wrong.

That said, here's the conversation I had with Child 2 as he was getting out of the car this morning. I'm proud of us both:

Me: "How are you feeling about the testing, are you okay?"

Child 2: "I'm totally fine, because the tests are frickin meaningless. What's the point of being nervous about something that's frickin meaningless?"

Me: "That's right, there's nothing to worry about. But some of your friends might be nervous, so tell them what you just told me. And make sure you say 'frickin'."

BOOM.

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On anxiety, "passing," and fire drills

It is a well known fact that Child 1 is not a fan of the fire drill. Our school's Principal knows that she needs to inform me the minute one is scheduled. Pretty much every single person who works at our school is aware of Child 1 and his issues with the fire drill. It's written into our IEP and will be a major topic of discussion at our Middle School transition meeting next week.

One day last week I arrived to pick up the kids about 20 minutes earlier than usual. I just happened to be really early that day, it was a concidence. I walk up to the school to find that the alarms are going off (so loud) and all of the kids are lined up on the yard. Some of the classes were still walking out when I got there so I must have arrived very closely to when it started.

My first thought was to be mad that a drill was scheduled and nobody told me. They know they're supposed to tell me when a drill is scheduled!!! But when I find Child 1's teacher, I ask "was this scheduled?" and he tells me it wasn't. Somebody must have pulled the alarm or something. A pulled alarm is the reason Child 1 has so much anxiety about these things, because it happened when he was in 1st grade and that was the beginning of his anxiety about them.

I find Child 1 sitting in the line with his class and I can tell from the look on his face that he is very upset. Poor kid is freaking out with anxiety and as soon as he sees me he starts crying. He leans into me and I hold onto him and I'm so glad that I happened to be 20 minutes early.

He asks me what happened. I say I don't know but probably somebody pulled the alarm, like they did when he was in 1st grade. He's still very much not okay but he's getting calmer and I can tell he's feeling better. We sit there for about another 10 minutes, and as we do, a few staff come by to see how he is, because, like I said, everybody knows about Child 1 and the fire drills.

I am struck by how they talk to him about it. They tell him "you're doing really well" and "see? it's not so bad." His aide tells me "he did really great when the alarms went off." As if the outward appearance of calmness is evidence that he's perfectly fine with the experience. Because NO. He's NOT doing really well. He is really really upset about this. This is his worst nightmare, actually, an unexpected fire alarm. How can they say he's doing great when he's so obviously not doing great??

It seems to me that the lesson here is for him to learn that regardless of how he feels inside, what's important is that he doesn't let anybody know about it. What kind of messages do we send when we tell people who are filled with anxiety and upset that they are "doing great" simply because they appear calm? Doesn't that teach them that they must appear calm at all costs? That must a really horrible feeling, and it reminds me of how my autistic friends talk about the strain of "fitting in." Of learning how to pretend to be "normal" so they can "pass," but on the inside it's a huge and oftentimes painful struggle for them. Some of my friends have spent a lifetime trying to "pass," while feeling horrible on the inside. This is unacceptable, this kind of painful struggle. We need to do better. If our goal is true autism awareness and acceptance then we need to do better.

I understand my purpose now is to educate the staff at the school, and the staff at his school next year, and of course that is what I will do. But my kids are always my first priority and my mom brain keeps getting stuck on "what if I hadn't been there?" I talked him through the experience, we found out what happened (somebody microwaved some lasagna for too long and it set off the alarms) and now he's doing okay. But if I hadn't been there he would have been on his own, full of anxiety, and surrounded by adults who just don't get it. And that's even more unacceptable.

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"Are you okay?"

Child 1 is sad today. He doesn't want to go to school. He's getting over being sick, but still not feeling his best, and his coping skills aren't strong.

It's "Crazy Hair Day" at school; the whole school has weird hair or a weird hat on. The rest of the school is having fun but to him it just means that something different is happening. The day has been designated "not the same as usual," and he doesn't like it when things aren't the same as usual. That, plus his body not feeling 100%, has combined to create a lot of sadness inside of him. When he's upset, he doesn't get angry or act out, he shuts down and he cries.

And that's when my compulsion comes out, my need to make that sadness go away, and I ask "are you okay?" Constantly. It's an incredibly stupid question, because... clearly he is not okay. But my overwhelming need for him to be okay manifests itself in the form of this question that I ask him, repeatedly.

It's a terrible question to ask, not only because the answer is glaringly obvious, but because I'm sure he feels pressure to actually be okay when he's not. This is not my intention when I ask, I certainly don't mean to make him actually feel worse, but I just can't help myself. "Are you okay?" "Are you good?" SHUT UP, Jill!

I struck a deal with him, because I can't keep him home today (ironically, or not, I have an IEP meeting) and talked to his teacher: At any point during the day if he needs to, he will ask to be sent to the office where he will be allowed to skip whatever is going on and draw. He agreed to this deal, he likes to go to the office and draw. I watched them both walk off to the classroom and I said "Okay, bye. Are you okay?" His teacher turned to look at me with this incredulous face. Of course he's not okay. Can't you see that? He's crying and acting as if he's being lead to his death. What a dumb thing to ask. What's wrong with you?

But I can't help myself, I obviously need to work on this. Not only do I need to work on my compulsive need to ask the question, I also need to realize that not everything in his life is going to be okay all the time, and I'm not always going to have any say in the matter. I won't be able to make deals for him, I'm not going to be "in control." Life is hard and at some point I need to let go, hoping that I've instilled him with enough good skills to be able to take care of himself. I think this is the greatest lesson of parenting, finding that balance between this innate need to protect and knowing that you won't always be able to.

It's funny, because he constantly and repeatedly asks me questions, and oftentimes I answer him with "why are you asking me a question when you already know the answer?" I need to start asking myself that, too.

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Pure, unadulterated bragging

I don't even care how obnoxious this will sound, I'm so proud of my kid right now, and also myself, so I'm going to brag my fucking ass off right here right now! Sorry if this is annoying, maybe you want to skip this one if you're tired of rainbows and unicorns.

I don't think I've talked about Child 1 and homework here for a while. It's a struggle, to say the least. I'm incapable of doing it with him and we had a tutor for years but this year I decided we couldn't really afford it anymore, so I guess fuck homework? We just won't do it, I don't care. It's not worth it.

Fortunately for everybody in the entire world, though, we got the greatest teacher who ever lived this year, who happens to be a former Special Ed teacher, and who totally fucking gets it. So, I told him about our homework issues and maybe there's a way to figure out how to get him to do it by himself? In the end it's the goal, anyway, so let's give it a try?

So I said, let's come up with something really really easy just to get him in the habit of doing it by himself; like one page with two math problems on it, and I will withhold his fun stuff until he gets it finished and our wonderful fabulous teacher came up with a modified homework packet. Very very simple stuff. (Have I mentioned how awesome this guy is? He's also the teacher representative on the PTA Executive Board and I have now learned that he gets really embarrassed when you say these things to his face and in front of his boss, the principal, who also goes to those meetings).

Anyway, today was our first day having math homework. Child 1 has a mental block about math; in a nutshell it's an emotional thing for him, he hates it and it makes him cry. However, he's actually really good at math and I know this because 1. I've watched him do multiplication in his head and 2. His IAs constantly tell me that he whips this shit out like nobody's business when he's in class. His thing, though, is to say "I don't know how" or "I can't do this, it's too hard" or whatever.... basically he's pretending he can't so that he can get out of it, which is what makes homework such a struggle every time. But this time I took the attitude that "yes you can" and "whatever, take your time, I'll be in the kitchen and you can have your fun stuff whenever you're done."

So, he said "Tell me how to do this. I don't know how to do this, it's too hard" and I told him (and this is the part where I'm proud of myself, too) "I do not accept 'I can't do this' because you can do this. I know you hate math but I also know you can do it and that you're good at it" and I left the room.

Not 5 minutes later he comes running in, "I'm done!" and sure enough, the math problems were done. He did it all by himself, and with ease. I was SO GODDAMNED PROUD OF HIM. After the high fiving and the "you're awesomes" were done, I kneeled down and said to him "never say you can't do something, even if you don't like it and even if it's hard, because you can do anything."

He had the hugest smile. Good fucking stuff, man.

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Some days you get the autism, and some days the autism gets you

I was waiting for this morning; I've been waiting for 2 1/2 weeks now and somehow I was still surprised by it. It's the third week of school and the honeymoon phase is over. The harsh, cold reality of "there is school every day" has sunk in and Child 1 has begun to rebel. It started on Sunday night when he didn't want to go to bed by himself and lead up to this morning, when he had a meltdown (a meltdown for him, anyway; even his meltdowns are pretty mellow). He threw a bowl of Cheerios away, and he hit me. Although, saying he hit me isn't really that dramatic, since he's so skinny and weak and has that hypertonia going on, his "hit" doesn't really pack much of a punch, but still. He very rarely does anything even close to that, so when he's crying and hitting me it's something to take very seriously.

First I tried to get him to tell me exactly what the problem was, which is always a waste of time, because I know what the problem is: he doesn't like school! And he can't really get specific about that, at least not specific enough to satisfy me, although he does try. He threw out things like "this is the real reason why I don't want to go to school, because I have to do math," and "I have P.E." etc.

The truth is that he doesn't like school, and he didn't want to go. I tried to fight it but it just kept getting worse because the more I tried the worse his anxiety got. So, I hinted at him staying home, to see what kind of reaction I would get (duh). Unfortunately, Child 2 heard that and immediately says "If Child 1 doesn't have to go to school, then I don't have to go to school. That's not fair."

Well, shit. He's right, you know. Now, of course I always have the option of saying "because I said so" and forcing him in the car, but he's right that it's not fair. Child 1 isn't sick and even if Child 2 understood the nuances of autism, which he doesn't, he's still only 7 and uses 7 year old reasoning and 7 year old reasoning says that if his brother isn't sick and gets to stay home then he should, too.

It was at that point that I just said fuck it, everybody stays home. I didn't have anything to do that I couldn't reschedule (but I was sad, because Danielle and I were going to have lunch, and I don't often get to do fun stuff during the day ) and I just didn't have the energy to fight it.

So, fuck it. You win this round, autism. I admit my defeat, partly because I was caught unprepared for something I should have been prepared for but mostly because I just didn't have it in me to put up a fight. They both get to stay home today, but they're not allowed to do anything fun! No TV and no computer and no iPod until 3:00!!! That's how I put my foot down, I can't be a complete loser in this scenario. That, of course, didn't stop me from feeling like a complete loser, waste of a mom, totally defeated by failure.

I know that's not true, but that's how I felt.

Maybe tomorrow, right?

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Support your local teacher

This will be the 3rd time I have posted this particular one, it just seems to be appropriate enough of the time and there's no point in writing something new. Right?

I have some experience with the PTA, I've talked about it here before. This is my 6th year at this school and my first 3 years I was active to a crazy, unnerving degree, and then I took a few years off where I did absolutely nothing. Not a goddamned thing. So I know what things look like from both sides now, and I thought I would take all of this perspective and, speaking as a parent, give some advice to other parents. Remember that my experience is only in an elementary school, so I'm sure my advice would be different if we were in middle or high school.

First, though, a disclaimer. It is WAY fucking different to have a child with an IEP than to have one without, I know this because I have one of each. Therefore, the following is ONLY directed at parents whose kids do not have special needs or an entire IEP team to manage. 

1. First things first: Lose the fucking attitude.

This is a hard job they do, these teachers. If you think you can do it better, you should quit fucking complaining about it and start homeschooling. They also make shit for money, by the way. Yes, it's true. Sure, they get summers off, but that means that either they don't get PAID for three months, or it means that their shitty-ass salary gets split into 12 month increments, which just makes it smaller and therefore more difficult to budget and pay the mortgage. So lighten up, would you? 

2. Give your money, your time, or whatever else you can spare.

Did you know that the average elementary school teacher spends $511 of their own money on classroom supplies every year? And that's from a study done in 1993, I'm sure there are newer ones where the numbers are higher, but I think that's enough to prove my point. The PTA at our school raises about $150,000 a year, and if it were up to me, I'd have given it all to the teachers (it isn't up to me) but it's all dependent on parents spending their own time and money so that the teachers don't have to take the load all on themselves. So when you see that flier that says "volunteers are needed" for such and such thing, make that phone call or send that email, you'll feel really good about having done it (and just ignore the snooty bitches I mention in #5). Maybe you can't spare the money or time, though, and that's cool, just do what you can; what you are comfortable with and what you have time for. You don't have to be a rock star, every little bit you can do will help, I promise. Edit: my friend Tiffany reminds me that a lot of the time teachers will have jobs that you can do at home. If you work or have other kids it can almost be impossible to get there during the day, so maybe there is some cutting or sorting or copying you can do at home after the kids are asleep. The only way to find out is to ask, so... ASK!

3. If you can't spare anything, just tell your kid's teacher that you think s/he is awesome

Teaching can be a really thankless job, especially given the current political climate of teacher blaming and bashing, and sometimes the best gift you can give your child's teacher is a simple "thank you." But you can also go above and beyond that and write them a letter (and COPY their Principal! It will hopefully go into their file) and tell them how much you like them and the great things you think they've done for your kid. This, too, will make you feel good about having done it. I completely flaked one year and never actually got around to writing any letters for my kid's teacher, so I just told him (a bunch of times), and that was good, too, because if I had done nothing else that year, at least I did that. 

4. If you don't know what you can do to help, ask

Ask your kid's teacher how you can help them. They might say "I can't think of anything," but that's because some people are bad at asking for or accepting help. And please don't fault them for turning you down and then remaining overwhelmed, because sometimes when you're burdened with crap, it's hard to figure out how to delegate and it's just easier to cut up all those paper stars, themselves, than to try to explain to you how to do it. But it's nothing personal so ask them again. And again. At the very least, if they are able to figure out something they CAN ask, they'll know they can come to you. (But if they start to run in the other direction when they see you coming, it's probably time to stop asking. Maybe put the limit on asking at two or three times a month.) 

5. If you are an active member of the PTA, lose the fucking attitude

If you're going to spend your time volunteering in the classroom, or fundraising, or whatever else it is you do, quit fucking complaining about it and just do it. Don't bitch about how other parents are lazy and you're doing all the work, either do it or don't do it. Other parents are aware of your shitty attitude and the reason they don't want to volunteer is because they CAN'T STAND YOU and they don't want to try to break into this clique you've created. They don't want to be judged because they work (and you don't and therefore have plenty of time to judge others) and they don't have the time like you do. You need to help recruit them, because not only is everything dependent on volunteers, but it all HELPS the teachers and the school. And you know what else? This is a community we're talking about, it's not just about YOUR shitty little kid who is not the only student at the school. So shut the fuck up and do the job you said you'd do or just get out. There are others who can replace you and probably do it better once you're gone.

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You guys want to hear something funny?

I'm on the PTA again this year.... WAIT! Stop laughing. That's not the funny part!

Long time readers may remember how I quit the PTA, almost 2 years ago now. But I've taken enough of a break that I think I can come back, with renewed (and actual) energy to get stuff done. The truth is that I used to be really active... I mean, like, question my sanity (moreso) active, which is a lot of fucking work but the benefit to that, for me anyway, is that I was on a first name basis with all the teachers and staff at the school. And I was thinking about that a week or so ago, and I realized that I missed that, because I love teachers. I really do, and I want to help them and the PTA is the way to do that. (Fuck the kids, though. No, I'm really serious, I'm not in this to help the kids.)

So, anyway, I realized that I missed being that connected to the staff, so I emailed the PTA President and told her I wanted to come back. The only position that was open that I was interested in was VP of Communications, which means exactly what it sounds. I communicate. I'm pretty good at that, I think. I mean, 3 years ago, the PTA then didn't have a VP of Communications, so I just did all the jobs that this person would have done, I just didn't have the title "VP of Communications," I had "That Crazy Lady Who Does Everything." So, it's no big deal.

Sidebar: I also have another title, though, which is VP of Special Education Affairs, which is a brand new position as of about 2 hours ago, because I'm tired of this PTA not representing SPED families, even in name only, and I asked the board to create the position for me. BOOYAH.

So, tonight I went to my first Exec Board meeting, and guess what my first task, as VP of Communications is?

No really, guess.

Go ahead.

I'll wait.







Did you guess? Well, I'll tell you. My first task as VP of Communications is to.... create a Twitter account for the PTA.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!

I told hubs and he said "are you going to invite them to wineparty?"


HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!

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December 1, 2012: A day that will go down in... panic

School started today, YAY! Child 1 has The Greatest Teacher Who Ever Lived. Seriously. We went to meet with him a few days ago and he had a fucking written schedule for the 15 minutes we would be there. Then he sat down with Child 1 and they checked the things off. OH MY GOD, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME????? Child 1 noticed the lack of a calendar in his room, so I went out and bought one of those dry erase blank ones, which Child 1 will be in charge of. Something to look forward to at school!!! I think I'm in love. (Oh, Child 2 is totally cool, by the way. This kid will apparently just roll with whatever happens and as long as he has a friend to roll with, nothing can go wrong.)

So, since 5th grade is now under way, I was wondering when I should officially start to freak out about Middle School? I mean, they're already talking about how 5th grade is preparation for MS (that's what I'll call it. It sounds like a disease, which it is) but today was just the first day, so it still seems a little early. Then again, you know, it's never too early for a debilitating panic attack about the inevitable, so maybe I should get started right away?

I asked on Facebook and the general consensus seemed to be that I should wait to flip my shit until after the Holidays. January should be the right time. But, I need to schedule an IEP for right when we come back from break, which means I need to do my scheduling before we go on break, and that seems like the appropriate time to be in a hysterical froth, don't you think?

So, I've decided that December 1st will be The Day I Start to Fucking Freak Out About Middle School. It's after Thanksgiving, at least, but has to be before the holidays; I just don't see any way around that. Besides, the holidays will probably be filled with well meaning relatives saying things like "So.... CHILD 1... you'll be in middle school next year, right?" and there's no avoiding me fucking losing it when that shit's going on around me.

So! December 1st. Care to join me????????

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Getting your GenEd teachers ready for your autistic kid

School is starting! School is starting! SCHOOL IS STARTING!!!! For us, it starts on Wednesday, I think it's probably already started for a bunch of you. LUCKY.

First, I guess, some background: Child 1 is what they call "fully included," which means he is in a General Education (GenEd) classroom with supports that are specified in his IEP ("supports" include a 1:1 aide, being pulled out for individual instruction, as well as various therapies, etc.). And school districts being what they are (read: tight asses), General Education teachers are rarely given appropriate training on how to have a Special Education kid in their class. Unless they have personal experience or have had a kid in their class before, oftentimes your IEP kid will be the first IEP kid they've ever taught. This has been the case for 3 of the last 5 teachers we've had, and I actually don't know if our teacher this year has any experience. As Child 1 gets older, it's becoming less and less important. Then again we haven't hit middle school yet. *gulp*

I heard from the school last week about who Child 1's teacher is going to be (we got the good one! Then again, we get the teacher I ask for every year, because... do you really want to mess with me if you don't give my kid the best possible option? No, you do not want me to be upset with you about the choices you have made for my child, if they are different from what I have requested. I know, I sound like an obnoxious bitch, but I promise you I only do this for my autistic kid; with the other one we just roll the dice like everybody else). Anyway, as part of my preparation for having a new teacher, I asked around on Facebook if anybody had any suggestions for some articles I could send him. In asking around, I found some great resources (links below) but also the advice (thank you Rhonda) that no one article is going to encompass all the information about my child that his teacher will need to know, and if I really want to help my teacher understand how to work with my child, what I send should be written by me.

This is really good advice, and I completely agree, but the crux of my advice to you, my reader who has a child with autism or an IEP or a 504, is that you are the one in charge here. You can't ever assume that anybody who is employed by your school district will 1. know your child well enough to know what is in their best interest, 2. have the necessary skills and training to carry that out and 3. have the motivation to even make it happen. You have to be on top of the IEP team, making sure it is being carried out correctly, and if there's something wrong, it is you who are responsible for finding that out and starting the process to fix it. I know... that kind of sucks. I mean, I don't know about you guys, but I'm no teacher; I've got no fucking clue how to teach anybody, much less a class full of kids, but I do know my kid; I know how to speak up and I know my rights. I also know that if I don't keep on top of things, my kid could very very easily slip through the cracks and it is my responsibility, as my child's best advocate, to make sure that doesn't happen.

So, if the issue is how to prepare your GenEd teacher for your SPED kid, you need to take that on, yourself. Like I said, never assume that they will know anything; in fact, to be on the safe side, you should assume that they know nothing. I've had teachers stop me in the hallway to ask advice on how to handle their autistic student; it's not their fault, they just don't get the needed training, and they likely never will. But it's not because they don't want to know, so it's your job to provide them with the information they need. Again. That kind of sucks that you have to do it; but that's the reality.

Before school starts every year I like to meet with our new teacher in person to discuss the details of my child, but some people like to write something up and give to them. My friend Michelle, who blogs at She's Always Write, and can be found on Twitter here, sent me the "resume" that she uses for her son, and I thought it was so awesome and well written that I asked her if I could share it here (I've removed the personal information about her son). This was written for her son, who is 3, and I decided not to modify it (even after I told her I would. Sorry Michelle! I got lazy) but it should be pretty easy to make this work for a kid any age, I think.

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ALL ABOUT ME

Hi! My name is XX and I’m 3. I love to play cars and trains and to ride my bike and run and jump and climb.

I’m excited about school, but my mommy is worried that some things will be hard for me. I can do everything the same as other kids; there are just times when I might need you to teach me a little differently than you’re used to.

WHY I’M A LITTLE BIT DIFFERENT

My doctors told my Mommy that I’m really smart and can figure things out like a bigger kid. But, my brain works a little different so sometimes it might look like I don’t understand something. But if you take a second to help me see it my way, you’ll be surprised how fast I learn!

My Mommy and my doctors use these big words when they talk about me.

• High Functioning Autism
• Sensory Processing Disorder
• Speech & Language Processing Disorder
• Auditory Processing Disorder

AUTISM

• My brain gets stuck on things and I can’t help it. I do best with verbal reminders a few minutes before the class moves onto the next activity, it helps me get unstuck and transition smoothly.
• It is really hard for me to understand what other people are thinking and feeling based on their face or tone of voice. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s that part of my brain doesn’t work the same as yours. I really like making you happy. If you are happy or frustrated with something I did, I won’t know unless you use words to tell me.
• I really like to play with other kids, but it is hard for me to know if they like how I am playing. It helps me a lot if you tell me gently how to play nice and be a good friend.
• I do best with routines. I can handle changes to what I expect (like fire drills) if you talk about it in advance.
• I take your words literally – sarcasm, jokes that are plays on words and metaphors are very confusing.

SENSORY PROCESSING

• My eight senses (did you know there are eight?!) don’t work the same as yours. Some days I am more sensitive to everything, and some days I feel like I can’t get enough of everything.
• Noises that sound normal to you (like a toilet flushing) may be painful for me. If you know there will be a loud noise, it helps if you remind me to cover my ears.
• Being touched (especially on the head) can really overload my senses and make it hard for me to stay calm. Sometimes it’s hard for me to sit close to other people.
• A face can give more sensory information than I can process all at once – I can’t always look at you AND understand what you are saying. Sometimes I need to look down so I can hear you.
• Did you know learning to write is related to your senses? I have to work extra hard to hold a crayon and make it do what I need it to. Sometimes I press too hard, and sometimes I can’t press it hard enough.

LANGUAGE PROCESSING

• It can be hard for me to say something even when I know all the words – sometimes I need you to be a little bit patient while I work on getting my brain to make the muscles in my mouth work right.
• It is very hard for me to answer open-ended questions. I do much better when I can make a choice.
• I often say things backwards (I ate the ice cream because I am cold).

AUDITORY PROCESSING

• My ears work fine, but sometimes the connection between my ears and brain can be slow (like waiting for a web page to load) or kind of staticky (like a radio station that won’t come in right).
• There can be a delay between when my ear hears you talk and my brain understands the words that can make it look like I’m not listening. If you touch me on the arm, I will know you need my attention.
• Sometimes my brain hears a different word than you say. Not very often, but if you notice please tell my Mommy.
• It can be hard for me to understand when you talk fast and give lots of instructions. I do really well if you show me how to do something after you tell me. My eyes understand faster than my ears.

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Some good links (thanks for my FB friends for sending me to these places; I didn't find them on my own!):

Ten Things Your Student With Autism Wishes You Knew by Ellen Nothbohm

Back to School, a post by Diary of a Mom that has links at the bottom.

Tip Sheets for Teaching Children with Autism Spectrum Disorder by Sue Larkey


Questions? I'm happy to tell you more about what I know. jillsmo at gmail.com

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About Special Education

I originally wrote this about 2 years ago, within the first week that I started blogging, but nobody read a word I wrote back then, except for my husband, my mother, and 2 friends. How about a little exposure, right??

When Child 1 was in preschool and we were preparing for Kindergarten, I saw a post on a local mailing list written by a mom with a kid in Special Ed (SPED) asking what parents thought about the district's Inclusion Program, and worrying how other parents felt about it, etc. The majority of responses were positive, parents, in general, are able to appreciate the differentness in everybody and had good things to say about their experiences. Some responses were not so positive, though. Parents (nobody had the balls to sign their name, of course) said that SPED kids "stole" resources away from General Ed (GenEd) kids; in today's tough times, with budgets so tight, it "wasn't fair" that their kids were losing teacher time and resources because the district thought it was politically correct to put the SPED kids in the with the rest of them. Seriously. Someone said that.

So, Child 1, and myself, enter public elementary school knowing that people feel this way. (Okay, Child 1 doesn't know and even if he did he probably wouldn't care, it was just me that knew this) and at first I was afraid to even mention that he had a disability, but as the years have gone on I realize that there's a pretty good crew of folks at the school and I haven't much encountered that attitude.  PHEW!

However, here's what I've learned about SPED and GenEd resources at our district that I wish I could have told myself, and those jackass other parents from the mailing list 5 years ago.

- Our district was apparently the birth place of Special Education; there was once a fantastic program, designed by parents, teachers and administrators, that actually fully included SPED kids and provided them the support they needed to get them an education. Awesome!

- SPED is federally funded. Services are paid for by a separate budget within the district, money which comes from the federal government, authorized by the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act of 2004.

- Federal law (IDEA and NCLB) requires that districts adopt a "Response to Intervention" program which tries to identify kids who are struggling and get them extra help before they fall too far behind and instead of a referral to SPED. This is actually a good idea, don't you think? I think so. Not being sarcastic, I think that's really a good idea.

- The Department of Education has allowed school districts to use 15% of IDEA funding for early intervention services in regular education

Over time, though, our district has been moving away from the great inclusion program in favor of the RTI program which attempts to address the needs of all kids. They've been doing this, though, by taking already strapped SPED staff and basically just giving them extra work with extra kids. After all, they can use 15% of their IDEA budget to pay for their RTI, so why not just tack on some extra duties to the Resource staff already there? So what happened is that the Inclusion Coordinator became the Resource Coordinator, and while on paper the district said "you're 85% SPED and 15% GenEd" the reality is that she no longer has 30 or so kids with IEPs on her caseload, she now has every kid at the school on her caseload, about 400. Because every kid at the school is entitled to an "intervention" if they need it, or at least a referral, to the Resource Coordinator. (I'm not sure if that's her actual title, I don't remember)

My kid's disability manifests itself in the classroom by him sitting quietly, softly talking to himself, looking beautiful and doing an excellent job pretending to be paying attention, but not learning a single thing unless there's somebody standing over his shoulder the whole time. He has an aide (Federally funded!!) and there are a host of GenEd kids who are a huge disruption to the classroom. These kids don't have IEPs and I have no idea if they need one or not, but as they act out, the teacher, and my son's aide, are forced to turn their attention to those kids, while mine sits quietly, looking beautiful and not learning. Those GenEd kids, who don't have a 504 or an IEP, get referred to the Resource Coordinator as head of the Intervention team, because they're falling behind. Because the Resource Coordinator is now so strapped for time, I have a great deal of trouble even getting an IEP meeting scheduled. It's not her fault, she's doing the best she can, she just has way too much to do.

So, the bottom line, and I say this to the myself of five years ago, or anybody else who doesn't know any better, or anybody with a child in SPED entering a public school: At our district, it is actually the General Ed kids who steal resources and teacher time away from the Special Ed kids. In today's tough times, when budgets are so tight, it's really not fair that a federally funded program should be drained away by kids who don't qualify for it. Oh, yeah, that's right, I went there.

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IEP post. Um... snark?

Holy shit I'm doing a meme! First of all, I have to apologize for the people who have actually tagged me in this, because I can't for the life of me remember who you are. I'm really sorry about that, but if you tell me I will definitely edit this post to include a link to you. In the meantime, though, for some reason I was able to remember that this meme was created by Karen at Solodialogue, who definitely didn't tag me, because she's afraid of me for some reason. I think. I don't remember. Anyway, that isn't going to stop me from participating, because that's just the way I roll....

So, here's the deal with this, according to Karen:

Each of us has loads to offer on the battlefield but what tools and services are we really all fighting for? Do we know what is available? By the way, who is paying for those special things?

So, simply put, as I tag you, and hoping that you are willing to share, there are only three things I’m looking for answers to in this meme:

1. A list of tools (special chairs, iPad, visual schedules, gums, chewlery, squishees, headphones, whatever devices help focus and sensory issues);
2. Services (Speech Therapy, Physical Therapy, Occupational Therapy, ABA, TEACCH, Special Ed teaching rooms, aides during class, tutors, etc.) and how many hours per week of each your child receives;
3. Your opinions of the effectiveness of (1) and (2) above.

I know. I know. Every child with a special need is different and requires different accommodations. Beyond that, I think we will find common ground. We may find that despite the emphasis on the differences, the school districts may be offering the same stuff to everyone. Who knows until we share?

The goal is that the next time any of us is faced with an upcoming IEP we can peruse our friends’ lists and see what may be useful to our own child.

Sounds good to me! So... here we go....

1. Nothing. Nada. There are no tools. The closest we get is that he gets to use math manipulatives. This is because we haven't had a good OT in a few years, but at our recent IEP meeting there was somebody there who seemed to actually know what she was doing, and was able to use the term "sensory diet" in a way that didn't include the cafeteria, so I'm hopeful that she may come up with some ideas. On the other hand, he'll just stim on fidgets all day long, anyway, and really what he needs is to get up and run back and forth in the hallway a few times in order to get his focus. I was going to say "get his focus back" but he practically never has focus, anyway; but I digress....

2. Services! I will list them below:

- Specialized academic instruction: 225 minutes/week (Push in and/or pull out academic support)
- Intensive Individual Services: 1200 minutes/week (IA support during academic activities and specials)
- Language and speech: 90 minutes/week (Push in and pull out as needed to total 90 minutes weekly)
- Occupational Therapy: 30 minutes/week (push into classroom or pull out, as needed)
- Adapted Physical Education: 30 minutes/week
- There are about 3 pages dedicated to testing accommodations, but I'll just tell you the good part, because the rest of it isn't important, I think: When unfocused or seems stressed, discontinue testing and work on core curriculum (This is the first time we've had this, I can't WAIT to see how this goes, because he is ALWAYS unfocused! HAHAHAHA!)

3. I think that a few years ago when he had an awesome SLP/OT (ONE person doing all awesome things. We were so lucky) he benefited a lot from the brushing and the swinging that she would do, but that hasn't been happening the past few years and I'm not really sure it would make a difference, anyway. But at our last meeting we did discuss the need for him to get up every 30 minutes or so and just run back and forth to get his physical and mental energy out, which is what they're referring to about the OT, which is push in or pull out "as needed."

As for the rest of it, like I said, he's always unfocused, and without an IA hanging over his shoulder he will never listen to the teacher or get any work done, so unless he's actually getting his "specialized academic instruction" I'm not sure he's actually learning anything, anyway.

We also have a tutor, who is not mentioned in the IEP, and whom I pay for out of pocket. I've been fighting the district to pay for tutoring forfuckingEVER, but they just won't do it. I've talked about it here before. Mostly it's just so that I don't have to do homework with him, because I simply cannot. Our awesome tutor is not only has a K-6 credential, she is an autism specialist and works as a resource teacher in another district. She works for me for shit pay because she's a single parent and needs the extra money. Oh, I'm going to give her a raise, by the way, because she was at our IEP and was AWESOME.

I think I'm getting off track. Another thing I want to mention, just because I think it's so cool, is that it also says this in our IEP: "Send home homework, but family decides what Child 1 will do for homework. If an alternative assignment worked on for homework, the assignment will be turned in with adult signature." So, basically, fuck your test prep! YES!!!!! I only wish I could get the same for Child 2.

Oh, and inspired by Top Ten Most Ridiculous Comments Heard at an IEP Meeting, here's something that was said at our meeting last week. Spoken by our district representative, who is always saying stupid things like "he'll be taking tests his whole life," in a discussion about whether or not teaching an autistic kid (with both significant language processing issues and some kind of math phobia) math word problems was wise or not, she said "word problems are a part of life." Um... hello? Autism? Word problems? Seriously???

Okay! So, I hope I did justice to this meme and that Karen will be proud and not scared of me. I will now also tag some people, and I've chosen the mom bloggers who were the first friends I made when I started blogging and whom I have somewhat fallen out of touch with as the years have gone on.

Also ..... Lynn knows why.....

• Lynn at Autism Army Mom
• Cheryl at Little Bit Quirky
• Dani at I'm Just That Way and That's Just Me
• Jessica at Four Plus an Angel
• Jennie at Anybody Want a Peanut?

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3 circle story maps will be the death of me. And snark.

Note: In an ongoing quest to get klout in snark, I will now be putting the word "snark" in every post title until my dream becomes a reality. And maybe even longer than that. Your twitter RTs are appreciated, but only for that reason.....

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The 3 Circle Story Map is a tool of pure evil used to help 1st graders "deconstruct" the plots of the stories they read.

It involves reading a story and then breaking it down into 3 parts, which you write in the three circles. On the map.

The 3 Circle Story Map tears families apart. It makes women and children cry. It makes beloved pets run away from home out of pure fear. The devil uses 3 Circle Story Maps to teach the condemned how to deconstruct the plot of Hell Staff Meetings.

Here, I've made one for you, in order to deconstruct the plot of this post:

Here's another one which deconstructs the events of yesterday afternoon:

Incidentally, here's how I've deconstructed the plot of yesterday's Man vs. Wild. (I'm almost positive I'm doing this right):

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Take your test prep and shove it

To the Principal and administration of my son's school:

As you know, my autistic son is mainstreamed in 4th grade at your school. While he is quite verbal and sweet-natured, he has a number of issues that affect how he learns within a classroom. In particular, he has difficulty focusing on what the teacher is saying, despite having an aide most of the time.

I understand the necessity of homework in this case; to let him have extra practice on the material he works on during the day. However, it's been rather obvious to me that the quality of his homework has changed significantly since the start of 4th grade. I have noticed a good deal of emphasis being placed on preparing him for "The Test:" four page math quizzes, "Response to Literature" story matrices, a constant flow of fables to "deconstruct," etc.

As my son is autistic, his best method of learning is by rote, and for his "least restrictive environment," he needs repetition for the material to sink in. By making him spend so much time preparing for The Test, you're doing nothing but taking away from the time that could be spend learning his basic academic skills. Please note that I purposely did not write this letter to his teacher, as I fully understand that her hands are tied when it comes to this issue, and have no desire to take her to task over it. Making my son do test prep homework is about our school's AYP, and nothing more.

The point in him even going to school is so that he can learn, not so that he can pass a state test; right now he's in 4th grade and reads at a 1st grade level. He doesn't need to practice for the state 4th grade writing exam, he needs to be able to read and write. He doesn't need to fill in the numbers on a Coordinate Grid, he needs to know how to add and subtract. It doesn't matter how he scores on your test. It doesn't matter about whatever political or economical impact his score or participation may or may not have on your district budget. What matters is that he learns, and by distracting him from his learning with meaningless test prep, you are failing to do your job.

That said, I look forward to squaring off with you over the table at our next IEP meeting in February, because this will be all we talk about.

Sincerely,

jillsmo
Mom to Child 1, in 4th grade

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Homework: An Infographic

Hey! It's just like college!!!

Click to embiggen

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My child was late because....

At our school, when you get your kids there late, you're required to stop by the office to sign them in while they pick up a "tardy slip" and bring it to their teacher. The Sign In Sheet of Shame, otherwise known as the Late Arrival Sign-In Sheet, asks you to put their name, the time you got there, and the reason you were late.

So, we were late one day last week, and we did what we were supposed to, and I look at the sheet and most people have written benign things like "overslept" or "doctor's appointment" or whatever, and I was thinking.... nobody ever writes the truth on this thing, do they? Because the truth really isn't necessary, when you think about it. The school doesn't really need to know why your kid was late, they just want you to admit that it happened so that you can accept responsibility for it. ($$$)

I think I just wrote the word "late" or something equally awesome, and then I walked away thinking.... if I were to actually tell the truth on that sheet, what are some things that I could say?

Here are some options:

• Little asshole wouldn't put his shoes on (related)

• While walking to school, both of my children suddenly and mysteriously developed Cerebral Palsy and became unable to move their legs. Somehow they managed to drag themselves here despite their newfound conditions and the palsy was miraculously cured the moment we arrived

• I woke up on time but then I blinked and it was 45 minutes later

• Wanderlust

• My autistic student had a major anxiety attack about having to go to school (where he is being teased and made fun of) and was physically unable to leave the house

• It's cold and my bed was really warm

• Because school is stupid and boring and we hate stupid, boring school that's stupid.

• While walking onto school grounds, student lightly brushed his arm against the gate and subsequently fell to the ground in theatrical hysterics while Mom stood by, helplessly yelling "YOU'RE FINE! GET UP! WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE!"

• There was a disagreement about the appropriateness of wearing pajamas with no underpants to school. While reason eventually won, the battle was well fought.

• Some days it's just not worth the effort.

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jillsmo and 60 first graders go on a field trip

I accompanied Child 2 and his class on a field trip yesterday to the local children's science museum that we've been to 8 billion times before. I was put in charge of 4 kids: Child 2 and 3 others, and as we made our way through the very familiar (to me) museum, it was my responsibility to make sure that none of the children in my charge (I called them "my charges") vanished in a puff of smoke, which children tend to do in places like that. (I did head counts every 20 minutes or so, and I would yell out "GIRL, GIRL, GIRL, CHILD 2. OKAY. GOOD.")

It always makes me laugh (on the inside. I mean... I don't want to embarrass myself... moreso....) when somebody puts me in charge of kids. It's like they don't even realize that I'm just a large child, myself, and actually a rather bad influence; and while I do take my job of "make sure they don't disappear into thin air" seriously, as for the rest of it, yeah... not very much.

For example, I tend to get in trouble right along with them. We'll all be yelling and running around and then another adult will come charging in yelling "STOP YELLING AND RUNNING AROUND" and I'm like.... oh. Right. THAT. *cough* "Yes, kids! Stop yelling and running around, um.... just like I told you, uh... before...." (One time I was in the classroom, it was a Friday, and the teacher was sending homework home, and I said in a whiny little voice "Homework on the weekend??" and she said "Stop whining! You're not one of my kids!" Whatever. You're not my real mom.) I gave Child 2 a bottle of water for the bus because he gets really carsick and his teacher confiscated it. He knew that was going to happen, but I told him to take a chance. I should have taught him to hide it better.

So at one point, we're all in this classroom type place and they're doing these experiments, mixing different liquids and solids to see what happens. I'm at the table with Child 2 and a bunch of others (because I'm not only never ever ever ever allowed to leave his immediate line of vision I must be within grasping range at all times) and they all have these little mixing trays, and I'm watching and helping them to not spill and I'm saying things like "see what happens when you put more vinegar on the baking soda" and then I realize... HEY! I want to mix liquids and solids, too! So I ask the sciencey chick for a mixing tray and she's like "seriously? you want a mixing tray?" and I say "YES!" and I could see she was thinking "Jesus, what's with this one? All the other parents are just sitting around chatting like they're supposed to....." but come ON!! Did you know that when you mix lemon juice and chalk dust it totally fizzles and bubbles up just like baking soda and vinegar does?? Why does it do that? Why am I the only one who didn't know that?? THAT IS SO FUCKING COOL!! (I did manage to watch my language in front of the kids, though, and I only said "DUDE! Check this out! That is SO COOL!!!")

And then when the sciencey chick said "okay, put down your sticks, your experiments are over!" I said "AWWWWWWWWWW. I wanted to do another one! Okay, fine...." POUT.

Seriously.

Those kids fucking love me.

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Child 1 update:

I'd sent an email to the Principal, saying I wasn't happy with the way things were being handled and I didn't like being in the dark. She called back twice and emailed three times within a 3 hour period, saying she didn't realize I hadn't been informed (could it be because she told Child 1's teacher not to talk to parents about it? hmmmm). She has essentially gotten the whole story, which was that kids were asking him to say weird things and then they would laugh at him. She seems to be taking this very seriously and is talking about school-wide autism education and teasing/bullying discussions, etc., which I will be a part of.

But what's most important is that Child 1 is okay. No more crying and insisting that he's sick so he doesn't have to go to school. He still doesn't like school, but who the hell likes school? The point is that he's happy again, and that's really all I care about!!!

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Helpless: Autism, bullying & earthquakes

So. Remember last week or so I wrote about how I knew there was something up involving Child 1 and school? And that he refused to talk to me about it? And how he said "I don't want to talk about it" whenever I asked? And that I just knew, because I am his mother, that something was going on?

I had been assuming that it was the massive amounts of work he had to do at school, and in talking to the staff that he spends his days with, they were all really surprised to hear that he was upset at home, because he was perfectly delightful at school. He did his work, he did a great job, he was a joy to be around (true story). Jaclyn, The Inclusion Coordinator, said she had a talk with him and he said he didn't like school, there was a lot of work, the days were too long, but it was still cool. Then she asked him how things were on the yard and he said "I don't want to talk about it."

When she told me that, in her office, my exact response was: "Shit."

So I talked to his teacher who said she was going to ask the kids; talk to some "key players," if there was something going on, she would get it out of them. That was Wednesday of last week. On Thursday he was sick and stayed home. Friday morning he was in hysterical tears when we were leaving for school. He didn't want to go, which wasn't unusual, but this day he said he didn't want to be too early because he didn't want to have to be on the yard before the bell rang.

SHIT.

So, we went late. I dropped him off and was determined to make somebody find out what the hell was going on. On the yard I saw his teacher who said "let me get these guys in class and then we can talk," so I followed them to the classroom. Outside her door, she starts saying "well.... all of the kids who were involved confessed...." and I said "WHAT? INVOLVED? CONFESSED???????? WHAT?????" and she looks shocked and says "Jaclyn didn't call you?" and I said "NO, JACLYN DIDN'T CALL ME." she says "Jaclyn was supposed to call you," and it obviously was not a good time for her to be having that conversion in the hallway, with her kids all over the place, so I turned and practically ran towards Jaclyn's office to find out. She called after me "It's not that bad; it's like it was last year." I'm not sure what she was thinking was "bad," because whatever happened last year is BAD, as far as I'm concerned.

I find Jaclyn, who needs to finish up a phone call before she can talk to me, so I wait in the hallway for her. And I start crying. WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BABY??? Whatever it was that happened was bad enough to make Child 1 cry about having to go back to school. SHIT. SHIT!!! SHIT!!!!!

Jaclyn comes out and seems surprised that I'm so upset. WTF, lady? Fucking tell me what happened. She says we're still trying to piece everything together but it was a lot like last year that they were asking him to repeat things, and something about making him kiss a girl's hand, and then she starts going on and on about ways we can help him be social on the yard and "are there any games in particular that he likes to play that we can have him do with the other kids?" and I'm like WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT. I gotta go....

I head back to the office (hey, you know what's super fun? Walking through the hallway of your kids' school crying. Seriously. You should try it. It's awesome) and I leave a note for the Principal to call me "Re: Recent events" and I go home.

At home I get a call from a mom at the school who I know and who has a kid in Child 1's class. She's apologizing profusely, saying that she never thought it would be HER kid who would be the bully, blah blah blah... I'm like.... "I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED OR WHO WAS INVOLVED OR WHAT THE FUCK ANYTHING." She doesn't want to tell me anything because she doesn't want to get anybody in trouble, but she tells me what her kid told her he did, which was pretty much the same thing that I'd heard already. I was impressed that she'd had the balls to call me and apologize.

The day goes on and I end up getting calls from three other moms. They're all saying the same thing, about how bad they feel, about how their kid is going to have some consequences, about how sorry they are. I'm not really sure what to do with any of that information. I don't even know what happened, exactly, but everybody has a different story and either they don't want to tell me or they don't actually know any more than what they're saying. Probably the school will take some kind of action, but I have no faith in anybody who works there (except our teacher, whom I adore) to actually find out the truth. So the only way I'm going to get any answers about what actually happened is to get the kids to explain it. I've emailed all the moms who contacted me, asking them "for help" and asking them to find out for me exactly what happened.

Okay, this has been a long winded, rambling account of the last few days; I hope it made sense to you. Here's the thing now, though: I don't really care how sorry these moms are or what kind of consequences their kids now have to suffer for whatever it was they did. My concern is only about Child 1: helping him get through this whateverthefuck it is, and also helping him be able to cope with these things when they happen again.... and they will.

It kind of feels like earthquakes, this little bullying thing. There have been a number of little earthquakes here lately, and whenever it happens, I don't think "that was scary," I think "OH MY GOD it's only going to be so much worse in the future." That's what this feels like to me. Maybe whatever happened this time wasn't totally earth shattering, but it's going to happen again, and it's only going to get worse when it does. These kids are going to get older and more savvy and more mean, and Child 1 is going to be in middle school or high school, and I'm not going to know all the moms of the kids involved, and they're not going to call me and help me figure out what happened, and he's not going to talk to me about it so... is there anything I can even do???? I hate this feeling of helplessness, I need to take action. I've called an IEP meeting to "discuss ways we can help him develop coping and self-defense skills," but I don't know what else to do. I'm just waiting for the next earthquake, which will happen without any warning, and all I can do is make sure my emergency supplies are well stocked? Assuming we live through it, that is, and there's no guarantee of that.

Shit.

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Homework: what do you think is reasonable?

I spent a lot of time last year at this time talking about homework and how much I hate it. It's true. I hate it. Especially with Child 1, because I'm a shitty teacher and he's a difficult student. After a few months last year I just said fuck it, I'm not doing homework anymore; this is too hard and too frustrating for all of us. I made a half assed attempt to find a tutor for Child 1 but then I gave up on that, too, and had some changes made in our IEP so that homework was modified and also done in school. That took a lot of the pressure off. Off of me, that is. Because this is about me... not about either of them.... Just kidding. No I'm not.

Toward the end of the year last year, however, I was feeling really shitty about never doing homework with either of them; I had rationalized that Kindergarteners shouldn't even have homework and I was doing him a favor by not making him do it, and that worked for a few months, but then I went back to feeling like a shitty slacker mom. So, this year I'm determined to stay on top of things and get this shit done every day so that I'm not a horrible terrible no good shitty parent. Because... as I said... this is about me... not them....

I've hired a tutor for Child 1. This shitty economy means that I get really lucky when it comes to tutor choices, apparently. I've found a credentialed teacher who works as a Resource Specialist in a public school but doesn't make enough money as a single parent so she picked up my tutoring gig (there's your proof, Fox News, that teachers and teacher's unions are ruining our economy!!!). Child 2 is a frickin genius, at the end of Kindergarten he was reading at a 2nd grade level, so I figure I can handle helping him and his genius brain.

So, this was all just a really long winded introduction to my question, because I need some perspective: How much time do you think is reasonable for a 4th grader with autism to spend doing homework, and a 1st grade genius to spend doing homework?

Child 1, with his tutor, can take up to 2 hours. Child 2, with just me, can take up to an hour. And he's not struggling or anything, he's speeding through it; there's just a lot of it.

That seems like a long time to me, for these guys to be spending this much time every day.

Does it seem like a long time to you?

How much time does it take your kids to do their homework, with or without your help?

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The obligatory back to school post

School starts tomorrow! Actually today, since this will post on Tuesday, but I'm writing it on Monday, so technically it's tomorrow. You know what? Just shut up.

I don't even have much to say, but I feel obligated to write something. Last year at this time I was freaking. out. about Child 2 starting Kindergarten. He was totally fine, of course, and to all of you other parents out there freaking. out. about Kindergarten right now? They'll be fine. Probably. Most likely. I'm almost sure of it.

We have awesome teachers this year. Not that we haven't had awesome teachers every year, because all the teachers at our school are awesome, I just didn't always know going into the year that they were awesome because I didn't know them before. This time I do, though; in fact, I'm Facebook friends with both of them.

Child 2's teacher was Child 1's teacher for the first few months of his 1st grade year, but we transfered him out because had a lot of sensory issues and not a whole lot of IA support at the time. It will be an awesome fit for the high energy, very loud, very funny, very talkative, very opinionated Child 2, though. (huh. when I describe him that way he kind of sounds like me. weird) and she was absolutely my first choice for him (not that I actually get a choice, though, damn kids without IEPs!) so I'm happy. The only bummer is that his little BFFs aren't in his class. There were 3 of them and they were all split between the 3 classes. He doesn't mind, though, I asked him if he was sad and he said "no. not really." He is SO much more well adjusted than I am....

Child 1 also has an awesome teacher (she'll probably read this, by the way. Quick! Everybody look innocent!!! ) and was also my first choice for him. Actually she was my only choice for him because I have actual evidence of her awesomeness, and none of any of the others. So, I'm happy. It's hard to tell with Child 1, though, how he's feeling about things. He's not much of a "sharer" about his feelings. We just have to start the year and see how things go, although he's already started talking about fire drills. Yeah.

So, there's my obligatory back to school post! How did I do? By the way, in case you were wondering: I said "awesome" 7 times in this post. (That one doesn't count because it's in quotes.)

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