Our IEP (Individual Education Plan) Meeting

It's nice to be able to write this with a smile on my face.  How proud am I?!  Super proud of my boy and his accomplishments this year.  Super proud of all his hard work.  Super grateful to his educational assistant and teacher.

The resource teacher was surprised I had decided to go alone to this IEP meeting.  I've always gone in with an enormous team to back me up, mostly for the school's benefit then my own, so that when parenting questions arose, I could have a CFS worker there telling them that my parenting was just fine, and that they needed to focus on Dayton's schooling instead of my parenting.  Remember in my last post I mentioned that until recently I didn't like hurting people's feelings or being rude or standing up for myself?  Yeah, since that's changed, I'm good to go to school by myself...

It seems the staff received the message from my team last year, as this year's IEP meeting was more than pleasant.  We were all smiling, all proud of Dayton and all talking about Dayton rather than what's happening at home.  What a refreshing change!

I loved sitting beside Dayton's new teacher, a woman I've only met once before.  This woman is an angel in my eyes.  She clearly gets my babe!  I'm just amazed at how this is possible, when he's never had a teacher 'get him' before.  She spoke clearly, and was very knowledgeable of Dayton's strengths and weaknesses and had clear cut ideas on how to reach his IEP goals.  She kept talking about Dayton as though she's spent time with him, something that's never happened before with any other teacher!  Holly cow, this woman spends time with my baby!!!  I couldn't stop staring at her, like she was a new, sparkly, shiny toy...  and I'm sure by the end of the meeting, she must have thought Dayton clearly got his autism from his 'weirdo mother.'  I've never had a teacher speak about Dayton in this way before.  I mean, she 'gets him!'  I'm still a little stunned!

Pretty sure this was the look on my face, it was something like this still when I got home

Sitting across from Dayton's Educational Assistant was fantastic.  Even though I've already told her that I think she's awesome, I still wanted to thank her in front of the principal that she is fantastic and that I'm grateful for all the work she's done with Dayton.

I'm a firm believer that without the right people in place, our kids will learn NOTHING.  I'm certain these two women have had a huge impact on Dayton's education this year, and he's made huge gains this year thanks to the work of these fantastic women.

The guidance counsellor, a woman who's doubted my parenting (my opinion) in the past, was pleasant, respectful and helpful!  She even made time for me after our IEP meeting to show me how she teaches 1st graders reading recovery and spelling.  This was very much appreciated as I'm struggling how to explain to Dayton why there's an 'e' at the end of words that is not pronounced, like 'lake, snake, make,' etc.

I think the thing that struck me the most about our separate meeting was that we were actually able to communicate.  We've never been able to do that civilly in the past.  It always ended up with one of us blowing up or me getting emotional and feeling wounded because of her judgemental comments.  I'm not sure what's happened, if I've changed or if she's changed, but I like it.  I like to be able to talk to her as she is involved in my babe's education, and we need to be able to work together.  I think we finally can.

I've been so jilted by the education system until this year, I'm afraid to let my guard down and simply trust.  Once trust is gone, it is so hard to get back.  Do I dare let my guard down?  Should I inch it down just a smidgen?

Baby steps.  How do you take those again?


Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

Are We Upside Down Or Right Side Up?

Most of us go on with our lives never really thinking about our world and how it all comes together.  We don't focus our world of illusions.  We are so accustomed to talking about the sunset and the sunrise.  No romance novel talks about the globe spinning on an axel or the world turning and therefore we have day and night.  It's just not romantic literature, is it?  He looked in her eyes as the world turned a little more and the sun was gone, replaced by dusk...  Yeah no...  I think I'll stick with sun sets, thanks.

How does this work with a little guy on the autism spectrum who thinks visually?  Who thinks in pictures?  Has Dayton seen a globe?  Yes, he has.  He knows the earth is round, but has a question...  "Mamma, are we at the bottom of the globe?  Won't we fall off?  Are we standing upside down?  How does it spin?  Does it go left to right or right to left or upside down?"
"Baby, ask your teacher."


Feel free to answer Dayton's questions, and consider yourselves hugged!

Lou

Positive Things Can Happen Once You Accept Your Child's Diagnos-is/es

Yeah, I said positive things.  Don't roll your eyes, it can happen.  It's happened to me.  It's still a work in progress for me too.  Every day things that don't kill me, make me stronger.  You know as much as I do there are people out there that thrive on bringing others down, especially vulnerable people who have much to protect.

A wonderful autism mom had posted this question to the Autism Winnipeg Facebook Wall:

"What do you think is the best thing that has happened to you because your child was diagnosed with autism?"

Excuse me?!

Good question!  When I first read the question, I could have spat in the woman's face for asking it in the first place.  What the hell do you mean?!  All these appointments that I keep having to have in order to take care of my child's autism, the failure of being to teach him when I can teach adults from a foreign country 800 chemicals in their generic and brand names...  holly crap, yeah, I feel like I've failed my son...  Lets not forget the judging people all around me, telling me if I only disciplined Dayton better...  The teachers who have man handled my baby because my baby was not "complying."  My anger was getting seriously out of control, trying to remember where I stored the baseball bat from our summer play...  but then...  I thought about her question, and how my personality has changed since Dayton's diagnoses, for the better (yes, I know, how ironic since I was just looking for my baseball bat, right?!  Don't judge people, I'm sure you've all been there yourself).

I sat myself down after having a traumatic evening with Dayton being sick.  He came home from school, sat at the dining room table to eat his supper and wham!  Started puking like there was no tomorrow.  Now, I know I'm no master chef, but seriously kid, I do the best I can!  You've survived for ten years with my burned toast and charcoal soup cooking, you should have an iron stomach by now...

Sitting back with a nice glass of shiraz (teachers, educational assistants, school division, better than thou people - back away from the phone and DO NOT call CFS; they said I'm within my rights to live a normal life.) to settle the nerves AFTER Dayton was in bed asleep, I thought about this autism mom's question again...

Hmmmm....  Life before PDD-NOS (high functioning autism), ADHD, ODD, OCD, global developmental delays...  You know that Nytol commercial where the husband gives his wife the Nytol and tells her "it's like life before we had kids..."  and you see the woman waking up in the morning in a beautiful white bed with red rose petals and gorgeous hair?  Hmmmmm...  Life was really never quite that good, but man was it good!

Hair before Dayton...

Hair after...

Would you believe me if I told you that I used to be incredibly, painfully shy?  Well, I was.  I got fired from my first job as a waitress for it.  I had a really hard time speaking with men and pouring their coffee, the last coffee I poured was in some poor man's lap, but that's a whole other story.

Dayton's diagnoses cured me of that shyness...  Now I'm a loud mouthed red neck (with perfect teeth and good grammar, those things are really important to me).  A total change over my dear friends.  I say it like it is and be done with it.  No beating around the bush.  I either like you or I don't.  If I love you, I love you passionately.  I don't play games.  I tell you what I think, I yell at you if I think you've deserved it, and I cry when you hurt my feelings, sometimes right in front of you.  I am real, honest, sincere and have no edit filter.  I am what I am said Sam I am.  In order to advocate for Dayton and his rights, I've had to let go of that quiet, shy girl and become the suave red neck I am today.

I used to be afraid of pain.  Any kind of pain.  Emotional, physical...  I have a mutant gene that causes breast and ovarian cancer.  I didn't want to go through the pain of surgery and the embarrassment of a mastectomy; of not having nipples and be a road map of scar tissue and not be attractive to a man ever again.

Dayton's diagnoses changed all that.  I don't care if you don't like what you see, turn the other cheek.  My son taught me to survive, and live my life to the fullest.   Dayton's courage to deal with his own challenges gave me the courage and drive to be a survivor myself.  Besides, I wanna live to see my baby's babies.  Now I'm not afraid of pain, or piercings...  a whole other story.

Until last summer, I used to be a nice and sweet, never hurt your feelings kind of girl.  I'd give you the shirt off my back, even if it meant I would be exposed for all to see in my glorious embarrassment.  I always had put myself on the back burner and put everyone ahead of me.  I never wanted to disappoint anyone around me, even if it meant that to make others happy, I would be miserable.

Hmmmm....  Dayton's diagnoses did change some of this, but I'm still working on some of it...  I still care very much about peoples needs, but I've come to a limit of self preservation, which is a very important thing to do. Sometimes we can help others too much.  I need to remind myself of that.  Sometimes people take advantage of my good nature, which naturally ticks me right off.  I'm kind of going through that right now with my supposed best friend.  Um hum...  Not going there tonight.

I used to pity people with a handicap or disability.  Dayton's diagnoses changed that too.  I now have a respect and admiration for people with a disability.  They are my heroes...  How many times has a stranger said:  "I'm so sorry" when I tell them of Dayton's autism...  or well meaning friends "I don't know how you do it Lou..."  Well, how do you think Dayton does it?  How do you think the handicapped man across the street does it?  That's what's truly amazing, isn't it?  

Finally, I used to look at Dayton as a child.  Now I see him in a new light...  He's my teacher.  Dayton sees things in a whole different way, he thinks outside the proverbial box our employers continually beg us to.  He is  AMAZING...

So, I'm dying to hear...  I WANT TO KNOW, SO TELL ME:  What do you think is the best thing that has happened to you because your child was diagnosed with autism?




Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

My New Dishwasher

He's such a little darling, my little Dayton, and he's turning ten soon.  Sitting at the kitchen table with his Grandpa Hans, I'm drooling all over myself as I'm really, really sick now...

"Dayton, why don't you empty the dishwasher out for mom?"
"Ok grandpa."

Oh my God.  He's gonna break every dish in the house, but I have no strength or energy to stop it from happening.  Dayton may be turning ten in February, but he's inherited my swag, you know where you can trip over a cordless phone?  Oh well.  Thank goodness for my mother's china in the china cabinet.  No worries...  Just praying with my chin covered in drool that he doesn't break my favorite mug.  The one I start my morning with, not sure what I'd do without it.  You know...  routine, routine, routine...  My own OCD showing now...

Wouldn't you know it, my babe doesn't just unload the dishwasher without breaking my coffee mug, he manages to do it without breaking any dishes.  I think his OCD must have kicked in, because he did it so well, that everything is in exactly its correct place.  Hoooooray!!!  Woot-Woot!!!

Yes, my dear boy.  You're getting an 'empty the dishwasher' magnet to earn your magnets...  Mamma's gonna give you more chores to do, oh yessss....  Mamma loves you baby!


Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

Allergic To Physical Education???

Hmmmm...  Not sure what to think here...  All I know is my little guy's got a huge red spot under his eye that looks like someone punched him in the face, which is NOT what happened, so let's just settle down all you autism mamma warriors.  No one hit my boy, he's fine...  kind of...  He's rubbed the skin off from under his eye, and it's super, angry red...

When I got to the school and snuck around to spy on my boy, to see what it is that happens for him during gym class, he was huddled with his educational assistant who was obviously tenderly caring for him.  As much as it tore at my heart strings, seeing that someone who actually cared about him was there for him held me in place to continue spying, only he stayed with his educational assistant and did not look ready to participate at gym.  Cuddling for this long is not the norm for Dayton and to be honest, I got a little jealous!  Who does this broad think she is?  Kidding.  I'm super grateful for her tender loving care for my baby.  I'm very fortunate to have her work with Dayton and pray to God that Dayton gets to keep her next year, his last year at elementary school.  Anyhow...

When I got to my babe, he looked up at me all sad like, and crawled closer to me.  Mwahahaha, babe loves mamma the best.  But my poor babe!  He looked so sad.  He told me how he got all ready for gym class, and then his eyes started to hurt 'real bad.'  Poor little guy...  I asked if he would get back to class if I raced home to get him some Advil, and he promised he would.  Thank goodness I live a two minute drive from the school!  I raced home, grabbed the Advil, and thought I'd best take some Benadryl too...  His face kind of reminded me of what it looked like when he had his rash in Campbell River, and I wanted to make him feel more comfortable.

Racing back to the school, I walked in on my babe participating with the rest of the class in gym.  Walking by, I quickly gave him the medicine I brought from home and continued to the end of the gym to sit beside his educational assistant.

I can see why he likes her.  She's a petite 'lil lady, with beautiful facial features and gorgeous hair.  She's very down to earth and talked about Dayton in a kind way.  She told me how Dayton doesn't like to do work, but she's explained to him how she doesn't like to do dishes, but she still has to do them...  He told her 'that's dumb...,' but she didn't get mad.  She just insisted he do his work, and he has.

Do they have confrontations?  Sure they do!  But here's the interesting part, the difference I was looking for this year...  Dayton LOVES her!  More important, he respects her.  He cares about what she thinks.  He is crushed if he disappoints her.  She told me of one time how he looked at her after an incident and said to her "I guess you're mad at me now," and he looked terribly sad about it.

Am I jealous?  Absolutely!  The little punk doesn't care if he disappoints me!  Why that little...  Yes, I'm jealous.  Not only is she perfect, but she's stolen my boy's heart...  and I couldn't be happier.  What comfort it gives a mamma to know her baby is loved!

But then I talked to the office administrator...  It seems Dayton has been flirting with her, winking at her and giving her that flirtatious smile...  Looks like I'm gonna have ma'hands full...



Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

Autism Vs. Being A Little Puke

Perhaps 'puke' ain't the politically correct word I'm searching for, but I'm the kind of person who says it like it is.  My babe, my angel, my little man, the air I breathe, can be a little puke too.  The apple don't fall far from the tree, he is after all his father's son...  Dayton gets the good stuff from my side of the family, with the exception of his stubbornness...  I'll take full responsibility in that department.  I'm as stubborn as they get.  Oh, and the no co-ordination bit...  that I'm afraid is mine too.  There is no grace in my movements or the way I speak.  I'm red necked through and through.  It is what it is.  So is my babe.

Things have been going fantastic this year, with no phone calls home to come and get my babe early from school, no out of school suspensions, I don't think his royal highness even got an in school suspension this year.  If he has, I haven't been aware of it.  I've even called the school twice asking if Dayton even attends school, as I make sure he gets on the school bus in the morning, and I pick him up from the bus in the afternoon, but have not heard anything from the school, leading me to believe my babe may have figured out how to skip class, but nope.  The principal has assured me on both phone calls that my babe is there at school, every day.  While there have been a few incidents, they incidents have not been drastic enough to warrant a call home to me...  Wow!

The past few weeks Dayton has been complaining about gym class.  "Ugh mamma, she won't let me do gym 'cuz it takes me too long to get changed."
"Watch your grammar babe, it's 'because.'"
"Mamma, she won't let me do gym B.E.C.A.U.S.E. it takes me to long to get changed."
"Really?  Have you spoken to your teacher about this Dayton?"
"Yeah, she just gets mad and says I take too long to get ready."
"Have you asked her for help?"
"No."
"Maybe try asking her for help and see what happens."

Week two:
"Don't bother packing my gym clothes mamma, I'm not allowed to go to gym."
"Excuuuuuusssssssse me?"
"Don't bother packing my gym clothes mamma, I'm not allowed to go to gym."
"I heard you babe, but WHY are you not aloud to go to gym?"
"I take too long and can't tie my shoes in time to do the warm up.  Can't take gym if I don't do the warm up."
"Excuuuuuusssssssse me?"
"Ugh...  I take to long and can't tie my shoes in time to do the warm up..."
"I got it Dayton, thank you.  Have you asked your teacher to help you tie your shoes?"
"No."
"Have you asked your EA to help you tie your shoes?"
"No."
"Babe, what is stopping you from asking for help?"
"It doesn't matter.  I'm not allowed to change in the boy's change room anymore.  Don't pack my gym clothes."
"Excccccccuuuuuuuuuuusssssse me?"
"Ugh...  It doesn't matter.  I'm not allowed to change in the boy's change..."
"Got it Dayton.  Thank you.  Now what do you think mamma should do babe?  Should I call your gym teacher?"
"Yes mamma."
"O.K."
"Don't forget to ask her about deodorant too."
I really don't like the idea of Dayton using deodorant yet, as his skin is so sensitive....  but yes, I should ask her if he needs it, as we've been fighting about it for weeks.  Dayton's snuck into his dad's toiletry bag and used his deodorant last summer (at least that's what I think happened) and his arm pits were red, raw and cracked from it...)

So I get in touch with Dayton's phys. ed. teacher, who tells me a little bit of a different story.  Dayton's goofing off in the boy's change room.  He's swinging his back pack around, not really focusing on getting ready.  He's playing around and goofing off with the boys instead of getting ready.  She's talked to him numerous times to get ready and asked him to focus on the task of getting changed instead of goofing off, but he's not listening...  grrrr...  yeah, Dayton forgot about this part of the story.  The rest of his story is correct, except for the part where it is HIS idea NOT to participate in gym class.  When told to settle down and get ready for gym or he won't be participating, Dayton's chosen NOT TO participate.  Well I'll be...  In other words, he's being a little puke.  Really?!  I'm so kicking his butt when he gets home.  I'm going through the house and there are chores he will be helping me with today boy...  scrubbing the toilet, cleaning his room, vacuuming, taking out the trash, cleaning the kitty litter...  oh yes...  I can hardly wait for his little royal highness to get his behind home.  'Cuz when he does...  ma'home be all clean!  Grammar or no grammar, ma' home be spotless chil'e.  Oh yes.

Yes, even Einstein had his childish moments

Anyways, the teacher and I discussed how I can support her with Dayton's behaviour

I've asked the teacher to get his EA to fill out the report sheets I get at the end of the day, giving him a check mark for getting ready on time, asking for help if necessary and NOT goofing off.  This will give me an idea of whether or not he is making an attempt to participate in gym and listening to his teachers.

So you see, I get it.  I get my son has a disability, but not everything is to be blamed on his disability.  He knows how to follow the rules, he knows how to get ready for gym.  This is not a part of his autism, he's being a little puke.  A typical nine year old who just wants to mess around, ya know?  A part of me celebrates this, at least he's not delayed in this part of his milestones.


Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

Has Special Needs Inclusion Gone Too Far?

To integrate or not to integrate...  A question rarely posed to a parent of a child with special needs.  I certainly don't have an option, thanks to our fantastic government.  You would think that as a parent with a child on the autism spectrum, I should have a choice at least in the matter, but no.  No body gives a crap about what a parent NEEDS for their child.

I'm not sitting here talking about what I WANT for my son.  I'm talking about what I NEED for my baby, actually, what Dayton NEEDS for himself, not what I need or want.

I am very fortunate that Dayton has a teacher this year that 'gets' him.  But it wasn't always so...  And all it takes is one bad teacher for the house of cards to fall...  I've had two years of literal hell, feeling as though I was going to lose my mind, powerless to help my son in school, powerless to help the teacher or his educational assistant.  Feelings of absolute rage when the school principal decided to call the police on my then seven year old, fifty pound boy, the guidance counsellor calling CFS twice, and the shame and ridicule that I felt came along with those decisions.  I know I'm not alone in this.  I've met with other parents of children on the autism spectrum who have been mortified and gone through the very same issues as myself.

Is it really fair of the government to expect the school to know how to integrate our kids with special needs?  I'm not just talking autism here, but any disability.  I don't mean to sound rude or disrespectful, but I think there is a different expectation in regards to integrating a child not able to walk compared to a child with a cognitive disability.

Is it fair to expect all teachers be able to teach braille to a blind child?  What about sign language to a child that can not speak?  Do all teachers posses these skills?

How about cerebral palsy, spina bifida, epilepsy, down syndrome, mental retardation, ADD, ADHD, speech and language impairments, traumatic brain injury, pervasive developmental disorder, autistic disorder, learning disabilities, etc...  Are teachers supposed to know about every single disorder?  Are educational assistants?  Are principals, guidance counsellors or resource teachers?  Who exactly in our schools is supposed to know every single childhood disability in order to teach the rest of the school when it comes time to integrate a student with an individual disability?

Trust me, segregation is far from what I WANT for my child, but I do want the best education I can get my hands on for him, which begins with a knowledgeable teacher.  This is not meant to insult any of the teachers out there, please understand this.  I mean no disrespect.  Society NEEDS my child to become a contributing member of society, not a burden.  I have very high hopes that my son will be contributing to his generation.  But there are others out there who may not be so fortunate to have a positive outlook on their child's future.

Does a fifteen year old girl with the cognitive skills of first grader truly belong in a grade ten classroom?  Is it really fair to this girl to have to sit through seven hours of social studies, math, English, and metal work when she can not read or write?  Who's interest are we really focusing on here, the student's human rights or her parents' warm fuzzy feelings of having their daughter in class with her peers?  Does society really think this girl is happy with her social promotion?  And how about the teacher?  Do we really expect her or him not to lose their "cool?"  In a class of thirty students, chances are this teacher is already making twenty different class lesson plans...  As a former instructor myself, just having to create and re-create the one lesson plan was like getting a freaking root canal.  I can't imagine having to do twenty...

My son Dayton is in grade four.  He is finally beginning to learn how to read and write.  I wanted him to repeat grade three last year, but the principal refused, probably because she really had no choice, did she?  As much as parents get upset with their school teachers, principals and school divisions, at the core of this problem lies the government.  They make the law, and they're the ones that are not giving the teacher, principal, school division or the parent for that matter, the choice to do what is best for our children.  In the mean time, the government hides behind the schools.  As a parent, I don't get to talk to our premier Greg Selinger, do I?  Noooooo...  I get to throw my temper tantrums at the school staff and school division, right?  They're the only ones I get to speak to.  Trust me, I know first hand.

Me, freaking out on speaker phone with the Premier's office for transferring me yet again to Manitoba Education who is absolutely useless...  Take charge Mr. Premier!  Answer your phone!

It all boils down to social promotion...  It does not seem to matter to our government that our kids are not learning.  All that matters is that no child is left behind.  You know, that warm, fuzzy, lovin' feeling.  All the funding in the world is not going to help our kids if the government doesn't put some help in place for our educators to have at their finger tips, does it?  It's like going out and buying a low fat cookbook, but unless I use it, I won't be losing weight, will I?  That reminds me...  Gotta go through the cookbook and make out some menu plans and go grocery shopping...  When is government going to wake up and smell the coffee here?  I'm all for inclusion, but lets be realistic here with what we're dealing with people, shall we?

Social promotion.  Education.  Society NEEDS education.  The days of do your work, learn in class, do your homework and pass your tests are gone.  In place we have social promotion, to spare our children's feelings? I'll tell you what will raise our kid's self esteem...  EDUCATION.  My son is proud of himself for passing his spelling test today.  He got six out of six words right.  Yeah, that's right.  My baby rocked his spelling test.  But last year...  last year my boy had low self esteem, fits of rage where he questioned me why bother going to school, he was too stupid anyway (his words, not mine).  Last year's teacher wasn't the calibre of teacher Dayton has today.  Perhaps I'm a little too harsh, I wasn't really there to observe.  But I can tell you that this year, Dayton understands his teacher.  Last year he didn't.  Could last year's teacher been overwhelmed with too many lesson plans to keep up with, and this year's teacher doesn't have nearly as many lesson plans to create?  Is this year's teacher's assistant more on the ball, more experienced with autism?  Or has Dayton somehow found that magical button of compliance?  There are so many things that could be different, or a combination of things that just fit into that mysterious, multi-coloured  puzzle.

Our kids may have challenges, they may have a disability, but they're far from stupid.  They know when they're truly included in their education and when they're being patronized or simply tolerated.  So perhaps it's a combination of blame, the government and the teacher.  I think mostly the government though.  I like to blame it all on 'the man.'


Consider yourselves hugged,


Lou