All Moms Do That

HAHAHA! Do you see how clever I am? It's a play on my series All Kids Do That! A series I wrote because people always say "Oh, all kids do that" when you talk about your autistic kid's quirks and things! I'm so funny!! And really really tired, it's been an incredibly long day, this, now the night before school starts, but I wanted to get this out tonight otherwise I probably never would.

Tomorrow is Child 1's first day of middle school, you see. I've, perhaps, mentioned at some point that this event makes me slightly apprehensive slightly. Just slightly. Only a little. See, I was bullied in middle school and it's always been this representation in my mind of a part of childhood where absolute fucking torture happens. So, I would naturally be ever so slightly concerned about the welfare and wellbeing of my unbelievably sweet and meek autistic child, who possesses absolutely no social ability whatsoever, who will bust out with the most random recitation of whichever particular Go Animate video happens to be on his mind at the moment in response to a question, and who, by nature of his diagnosis, has a 63% chance of being bullied while he's there.

So, I'm just a tad bit uneasy about the whole thing. Just slightly skittish. A bit peckish. That might mean I'm hungry. Okay, that too, then.

Yeah. So, today we go there and we take our tour, we met with our new case manager, we walked around the classrooms, we met the teachers, it was a lovely visit. While there, I was chatting with one of his new teachers, and I mentioned my oh so casual not a big deal nervousness about the whole thing, and her response? "All parents are nervous about tomorrow."

Yeah. All parents are nervous about tomorrow. All parents are probably feeling that slight bit of apprehension as their child embarks on this new journey. All parents are feeling a little uneasy about a new school, about their child making new friends, about their child doing well academically. All parents are nervous.

Are all parents hyperventilating? Do all parents have to pull over while driving their car because of the panic attack they're having about middle school? Have all parents been just on the verge of bursting into hysterical tears this past week?

Are all parents sure they're sending their child off to a cesspool of evil? Do all parents envision their kid getting laughed at, and pushed, and called names, because he is so, so, SO obviously different? Have all parents been unable to sleep for weeks because they lie awake imagining the kind of heartbreak and pain and hurt and fear their sweet boy might experience at the hands of other kids?

Are all parents doing that? I'm willing to bet good money that not all parents are doing that. I'm willing to bet that the nervousness they feel is absolutely fucking nothing in comparison to what I'm feeling. I know, you're going to tell me it's going to be okay. You're going to tell me how freaked out you were on the night before you lead your child off to the slaughter, and look! No problem. You're overreacting. You worry too much. He'll be fine.

He'll be fine.

Actually he probably will be fine, but telling me all of that is perhaps the least helpful thing you could say to a person at a time like this. I'm sure he'll be fine. But I'M not fine. And don't tell me that I should be, or that I'm like everybody else who is also slightly apprehensive, because I'm nothing like them. This is nothing like that.

It's cool, though, because he'll be fine. And all parents are nervous.

I also want to take a moment to link to the most amazing blog post I've ever read, written by my friend Bec at Snagglebox, about the worry we parents have about our special needs children. It's not about middle school, it's about adulthood, but her kid is only a few years older than mine is, and MAN does she nail it with this post.

But all moms worry.

Right?

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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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Everybody thinks it won't be their kid

I've been thinking a lot about bullying lately. Well, the truth is that I think about bullying all the time, but there have been recent internet events that have gotten me remembering back to my middle school days. See, I was bullied in middle school by the "popular kids," the Mean Girls. I won't go into detail but suffice it to say it left an impression on me that took years of therapy as an adult to work through. Lately, though, I've been reminded that people can be really, really horrible to each other, no matter how old they are. It's a shitty reminder, but perhaps necessary at times so that we don't become too complacent.

At any rate, my personal experience with bullying is the main reason why Child 1's enrollment in middle school has filled me with such intense anxiety. There's no question that he will stand out as different, I'm sending him off into this potential cesspool of evil and I'm terrified of what might happen to him there. Something like what happened to me. And I can't protect him, I just have to send him there and hope for the best.

"Hope for the best," meaning I'm hoping that other parents have made an attempt to teach their children not to fear difference, and even if they do feel fear, that they won't react to it by being mean to my kid. But how much control do we actually have, as parents, over what our kids do once we send them off to school? Kids behave differently in groups of their peers, they want to feel accepted, they don't want to be different. So will they just go along with what their friends are doing? Will they participate in the bullying so that it doesn't happen to them?

Last week I went to a PTA meeting where the topic was about the district's Welcoming Schools curriculum. It's an anti-bullying program that focuses on teaching kids about gender difference and family diversity. I think the program is fantastic, it's necessary and awesome and I'm proud of my district for adopting this curriculum; approximately 1 in 38, or more, school age kids have gay parents.* However, if recent CDC numbers are to be believed, 1 in 50 school age kids are autistic and yet... my kid doesn't get a curriculum. They address ability awareness in the Welcoming Schools curriculum, but it is not its main focus. Until there's something specific happening in the schools, we have no choice but to rely on parents like you and me to do the work.

At the meeting last week, the leader (who was awesome) explained the work that they do with kids, about how having these conversations is what leads to acceptance, and I was struck by something she said about bullies: "Everybody thinks it won't be their kid." We all do our best to teach our kids tolerance, and we think that we did a good enough job so that when push comes to shove, it won't be my kid doing the bullying. My kid knows better. My kid wouldn't do that.

But would it be your kid? Will it? Do we really know? As much as I know I've done my best to make sure Child 2 won't be "that kid," I don't really know what he does on the playground with his friends. I have to make sure to have pointed conversations with him about what it means to be a good person and a good friend. So, this post is for the parents of typically developing kids, who are doing their best to make sure it won't be their kid: Please have a conversation with your child about mine. Tell your kid that my kid likes to flap his hands, run back and forth, and talk to himself. Tell your kid that they might see this happening and feel uncomfortable because they don't know what's going on, and tell them that it's okay to feel uncomfortable, and they can ask questions, but it's not okay to make fun of him. It's not okay to call him names, or point and laugh, even if their friends are doing it. Tell your kid that my kid does these things because it makes him feel good, and while that might seem weird, it's totally okay.

And how about your behavior at home, because you know that kids learn by modeling what we do. Do you laugh at people who are different? Do you call people retarded? Do you gossip about other people who aren't able to defend themselves? Your kids are watching you, and while you think it might be perfectly benign: is it? Do you want your kid to do the things that you do? Because they will, and when they do, you don't get to say "but my kid would never do that."

Please talk to your kids; make sure they know. Because I'm about to send my child off to the wolves, and all I can do is hope that you guys have put in even a fraction of the time thinking about this as I have. You can't just assume it won't be "your kid," you have to make sure. Please. Make sure.

If you need any help or any useful resources that might help you have this conversation with your child, please let me know. I'm happy to help. jillsmo at gmail.com

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* "Researchers commonly cite the estimation that one to three million American children are being raised by lesbian, gay male, bisexual, and transexual (LGBT) parents" from Families Like Mine: Children of Gay Parents Tell It Like It Is. (Thanks to Erin from The Gay Dad Project for your help). There are approximately 76 million children living in the US, according to ChildStats.gov therefore 2 million in 76 million = 1 in 38.

Images courtesy of stockimages / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

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Hey, Middle School. You don't scare me.

Do you guys remember how I've been fucking freaking out about Child 1 moving on to Middle School? I even declared December 1st to be The Day I Officially Begin To Panic (it actually just came and went without incident, now that I recall).

My main concern has been about bullying. I was bullied in middle school and Child 1 has a much greater risk of being a target because he is autistic, and even though it's never been an issue, and he's totally not worried about it, I'M still worried. Because that's what I do. Worry, you see.

Well, before the break, I visited a few schools; in my district and some private schools. It turns out that I have some strong opinions about private schools, which isn't necessarily relevant to this discussion. I just kept thinking, as I sat there listening to them talk about how the class trip will be to Costa Rica this year, about all the kids who barely get enough food to eat, much less a fancy trip to Costa Rica with their middle school class, and about how our society values the privileged over the poor, and I knew that I could never willingly participate in such a system with a clear conscience. Not to mention that I just can't afford $20K per year for middle school, but if it was the right choice for my kid, I would somehow figure out how to make it work. How many mortgages will they let you have, anyway?

So, I called all the middle schools in our district, and my first visit was to the one that we're zoned for; where we would be going, anyway, if I didn't have all this research and meetings and michigas to go through. I signed up for a parent tour, and made an appointment to chat with the Principal for a few minutes before it started, and OH. MY. GOD.

This dude was awesome. He had contacted the principal at our current school, he had talked to our Program Coordinator with the district, he had done some research to find out enough about Child 1 so that he would be prepared to answer my questions. He took the time to listen while I babbled about how freaked out I was. He answered all my questions. He was awesome.

I asked about bullying, of course, and his answer wasn't "this is how we deal with a bully," it was "these are the systems we have put in place in order to prevent that kind of thing from happening." They have monthly topics where they address things like Being A Nice Person. Seriously! There are only about 100 more kids at the school than our current school but they have about 3 times more support staff. They're totally prepared.

Not only that, but the 6th grade class gets its own little pocket of the school where they do all of their classes in 3 rooms. There's no roaming the hallway trying to figure out where you're going, it's just one class to the next, right next to each other. But the best part is that the more I think about it, the better off I think Child 1 will be in middle school than elementary school, because it has a predictable schedule. You know when math will be, which day of the week and which time. Right now he goes into the class and looks at the board to see what they'll be doing that day, but in middle school there's no guessing. Here is your schedule and it never changes. I think he will do really well with that kind of structure.

And as for bullying, well, there's not much the school can really do to prevent what goes on outside of their view, and I'm still worried about it, but not as much as before. I know they'll take care of my kid if he needs it, and I feel so much better now. It's awesome.

So now I have to fill out this Parent Preference Form, and mostly I'm just irritated that I have to go and find his birth certificate again. Didn't I already do that once before when I enrolled him in Kindergarten? Do they think that information has changed since then?

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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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I don't know what to call this one

I've got a lot of topics kicking around in my head these days but I haven't had the patience or the attention span to sit down and write them out. I start trying to and then I lose interest halfway through, get distracted by reddit, and suddenly it's hours later and I have to go pick the kids up. Eventually I might extract this crap from my brain, but I guess now just isn't the time.

Couple things I want to say, though:

When I started blogging, it was just a way for me to scoop random shit out of my brain and put it somewhere; I had no idea that it would turn into this massively awesome and wonderful support group, made up of people from all over the world. You guys have become my sounding board for when I'm struggling with something, my confidants when I need to talk, my party buddies, my sisters, my partners in crime, my so many, many, things, and I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you to all of you who are awesome and who continue to be awesome every single fucking day, regardless of all the other shit that we deal with. Thank you. So very very much.

Secondly, Child 1 is going into 5th grade this year, which means middle school starts next year. Middle school, for me, is a major source of terror and anxiety. I was bullied in middle school. Yes, believe it or not, I have not always been this strong person who takes no shit and who mocks people who are mean, there was a time... a long time... when I was timid and meek and scared of other people. Middle school, for instance. I was bullied by "the cool kids;" the mean girls; the popular crowd. For whatever reason, they decided they didn't like me, and I had no tools to stand up for myself, so I got pounded by it. It is this experience that makes me absolutely fucking terrified of my beautiful, sweet, kind, autistic child going off to this fucking war zone of hormones and horribleness. He, too, has no skills to stand up for himself; he is not strong, he is soft. He could get fucking pounded, as well, and I am. so. scared. for. him.

They say (whoever "they" are), as part of helping your special needs child through the transition from elementary school to middle school, it's important to keep your own anxiety away from them as much as you can. My anxiety will rub off on him and just make things so much worse. That's actually always been the case for me, I'm very neurotic and my neurosis just doesn't help him at all. And so... just a heads up people! I'm going to be relying on this blog, and all of you guys, to be the place where my anxiety gets dumped, so that I can keep it away from him as much as possible.

Things might get ugly, so this is just a warning. Hope you guys can hang on for the ride. I'll try to draw funny pictures.

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