Category Archives: IEP

The joy of language

Boo gives me a lot of atypical milestones, moments, frustrations and joys. Every once in a while, though Boo gives me that typical parent moment when I realize even special children are typical in ways never imagined.

Boo has worked so very hard to obtain language. She has been in speech therapy since she was in two years old. Her therapists have never given up on her. They have persevered, coming up with new techniques, scaling things back or pushing her forward as warranted. 

Like most parents the first time you hear your child babble on the baby monitor you lay there and smile, rejoice and wonder what the heck they are saying.



When you go to their room in the morning and they greet you like you just missed the best dream ever your heart warms.

And if you are a normal parent by 7 pm you just wish they would stop talking. When you tire of trying to decipher what they are trying to tell you. Even as they crack you up.





I live for these typical moments. The moments that most parents, to some extent, gets to witness. The babble, the random words and the expressions. Things five years ago I never imagined.

Even as my ears ring.

A special thank you to Boo’s numerous therapists for giving me these moments.

And yes, Boo is still wearing her Halloween pajamas. And yes, I know it is May. Don’t judge.  

No interest

I have no interest in being a person who wallows. I do not want to be a blog that focuses on one theme. I think of this blog as my therapy. If I am lucky it is your therapy too because you realize you are not alone.

Whether your child is healthy and ornery like Abby or challenging like Boo or your house has a crazy puppy who is equal parts loving and destroying your house. I want all to feel welcome and to feel a connection.
Then there are days like today. The day that started out promising, too rainy to run. Waking up early to realize that the morning goes smoothly without incident. You knew it was too good to last.

It started innocently enough. With your daughter telling you that her pants had a whole in the, well, crotch yesterday. A boy on the bus noticed and it ended up into a discussion about who had an elephant trunk and who was flat.

Yeah. I went there. 

You tell the boys mom. Because you want to make sure that 1. she knows your child typically does not go into school with a hole in her crotch (unless she is Kristi) and 2. that you made sure there was no inappropriate show & tell on the bus that would get either kid suspended from elementary school. The other mom kind of reacted differently than you, had ‘the talk’ with her child. You felt bad because you saw and admitted to the inappropriate humor to the situation. The fact that Kristi saw the humor and said HEY RIGHT A BLOG POST ABOUT IT made you feel better.

You think that is the most you would have to deal with in a day. You think hey I handled this maturely. I answered my daughter’s questions in a way that she understood and didn’t feel embarrassed about. I promised not to tell her dad. Thank GOD he doesn’t read the blog since I never promised her I wouldn’t tell the world. 

Then the other shoe drops. Boo happens. She has a meltdown at school and at home. Abby tries to compensate by being the good girl. She tries to placate Boo but I stop her because I do not want to reward Boo’s behavior.

I realize that I am wallowing. I am stuck in this mantra that Boo is sucking the life out of us. That as awesome as she is, she is draining.  That I suck at this. That I cannot stop wondering where Spring is. When life will get easier.

When Boo will not demand so much energy (probably not going to happen). That I will not have to demand a doctor pay attention.

That I will not think life would be easier with the Abby issues.

I never intended to resent Boo. But sometimes I do.  Sometimes I suck at this whole “special” parenting thing.

Something else I never expected to do. I never had an interest in being a parent, let alone a parent of a child with challenges. Sometimes it is great. Sometimes it sucks. Most times it is not the life I intended.

But it is my life and I am doing the best I can, even when it seems I’m not.

Finish the Sentence Friday

Paging Dr. House!

Recently I took Boo for a follow-up with neurology. The best part of the visit was when Boo hit the ALARM button in the hospital elevator. In a crowded hospital elevator. The day would have to get better, yes? We were only going for a routine follow-up.

Maybe with other children. But nothing with Boo is as easy as it appears.


I adore her neurologist. I trust her more than any other physician Boo sees. We had a long talk about the autism diagnosis and what it means for Boo. She asked about Boo’s chronic low blood pressure and is surprised that no one is too concerned about it. She asked about Boo’s chronic color changes and again showed surprise that no one is too concerned. That although her Raynaud’s is manageable it is odd that it presents so young and without any rhyme or reason.

I told her about Boo’s newest development: intermittent swelling. That her wrists and hands would swell for no reason. I had taken her to the general pediatrician but by the time I had made it his office she was no longer swelling. As the neuro examined Boo she agreed that one of her hands appeared swollen and asked about her legs. Um…she is always in jeans and sneakers. Honestly (my bad) I never checked. I did say that her legs do get “tight” but we have been stretching them.

Disrobing Boo her neuro said: She isn’t tight she is swollen. Very swollen. But it doesn’t seem to bother her. (That should be Boo’s theme song)

So a parent would think okay what do we do about this?

Her response: call some one else. Okay, not really. But she told me to follow-up with two of Boo’s other specialists. That this wasn’t really her field.

Deep breath. I called Boo’s rheumatologist and was told it (based on a phone conversation) that this swelling does not appear to be rheumatological (is that a word? If not I just made it up like undiagnosed) in nature to “give it a couple of weeks” and then go back to our general pediatrician.

I called Boo’s cardiologist and left a message. No return call yet, they must not think it is anything to be concerned about.

But I am. And I am frustrated. How can one little girl have so many abnormalities. Isn’t one enough? Does she really need 15? I’m thinking she is getting greedy. 

So here is what I am looking for Dr. House. I am looking for someone with a medical degree to give a crap. I want them to look over Boo’s entire history. I want her examined from head to toe and not say they don’t know. We are okay with being undiagnosed. We are not okay with no one exploring why.

Got humor?

How to survive life as a parent with special needs. Okay that is a lofty goal! It is hard enough navigating parenting with a child who is typical. Add in a few diagnoses and life can get overwhelming. But here is my go-to list for surviving the life I never expected.

1. Keep your sense of humor. If you have lost your sense of humor because it was drowned by vomit, poop, tantrums or tears Google comedian Steven Wright. How can you not chuckle at thinking: “Is it weird in here or is it just me?” (Steven Wright)

2. Make a daily goal. For me it used to be brushing my teeth at least once a day. Now it is making sure I get to work without evidence of Boo’s breakfast on my shoulder.

3. If you feel all alone in this life as a parent with special needs, you probably are. But it is your job to find support. To scream at the top of your lungs I NEED HELP. If no one hears you, let me know and I will add my voice to yours.

4. Make your child’s teacher/therapist/doctor your friend. Find out about their lives. Interact with those who your child spends most of their time. It will enrich your life in ways you cannot imagine and make issue #3 far less likely to happen.

5. Have a glass of wine. Not the bottle a glass. 

6. Allow yourself to cry, laugh, grieve and rejoice all in the same minute. It doesn’t mean you’ve lost your mind but that you may have found it.

7. Find “ME” time. I know, I hardly ever do. But when I can run for just 30 minutes I come back a much nicer wife, mother and person. It doesn’t have to be every day (oh how I wish I could find me time every day) but make time for you.

8. You hopefully have a partner. The child’s mother or father. Guess what, they are your partner in this and they too are parents with special needs. So lean on them. Consult them. Do not do this all on your own and remember that partner is there. Make them take your child to therapy, a doctor’s appointment or do drop-off at school. For too long of a time I tried to be super mom, handling everything for Boo. Once I let David in our lives were much easier. If you don’t have a partner look at rule #3.

9. It’s okay to wear your sweat pants with a hole in the crotch for a few days in a row. Just try to remember to wear underwear so you are not arrested for pulling a Miley Cyrus at school drop-off.

10. Mix-up your friends. Try to anyway. Keep a healthy mix of parents with special needs and those with that normal kid who just talked back to them. It will make you appreciate your own little wonder. It will also help to make sure you feel alone.

11. It’s okay to get pissed off. Seriously pissy at this life you didn’t expect or prepare. And once you think you’ve got it handled someone will take the rug out from under you. Consider yourself warned. It is okay to question yourself, your God and your child’s doctor. It is not okay for any freaking one to tell you that you are not allowed to feel anger, grief or whatever emotion you may be going through.

12.  Your house doesn’t have to be Martha Stewart Spotless. I will say the state of our life is directly reflected in the mess state of the kitchen. But I have stopped saying to people, sorry for the mess. Instead I say, This is how it always looks and today is actually better.

13. Remember you are more than a parent. You are more than a parent of a child with special needs. You are you and may I say you are doing a fine job of navigating this life the best you can.

Lastly, and this is important: Five years into this life as a parent with special needs I will say this is our life. What we make of it. A glass of wine helps. But what really makes me survive?

The friends who have stood by to hold, comfort and more importantly laugh with me. So find some of those and keep them close. They will help you keep your sense of humor and your sense of self.

I don’t know if I’m ready….

I don’t know if I am ready for this post. To write it. To understand it. To mean it. To be comfortable with myself to say here I am folks and it may not be pretty. You have been warned. This post is long and rambling but while writing it I had an epiphany.

Regular readers know that Boo has an undiagnosed genetic disorder, probably neurological in nature. A month ago she had to undergo neurological-psychological testing to have a better excuse than we don’t know what the freak is wrong with your daughter to satisfy the State and Insurance Gods.

Last week we received the results of the neuro-psych testing. Most of it was unsurprising. Boo has an intellectual disability (no kidding), she has a sensory processing disorder (um, yes but did you see her video at the beach?), delayed language and….autism.

I’ll get back to that last one in a moment. For the Intellectual Disability we were thankful that her skills are scattered, so she shows not only growth but potential. The majority of her skills is in the “very low” (disabled) IQ but she did have a smattering of “low” IQ in some areas. 

They asked me if I believed the testing and I said I did with the caveat that had Boo’s known therapists had performed the tests she would have had stronger results. I do not believe the Psychologist put the tests in a context where Boo understood what was being asked of her. But they are standardized tests and the tests have to be done the same way. Let’s just agree to disagree on that one. Right, Boo’s therapists who are reading this rant?

I asked why, when for all this time we were repeatedly told our daughter did not have autism this decision was made. I am not adverse to the label, but I want the reasoning. According to the “standardized” testing Boo qualifies as Autistic due to her hand flapping (although this is only with excitement and not a stim), her sensory issues, her toe-walking and her social skills. Plus some other fancy words but I had kind of stopped listening.

Um, what? You had me until social skills. I agree with everything above when except social. I did not think I could have a child more social than Abby. Boo loves people. She loves to please, she loves to be around her friends. 

What I learned is that social interest/motivation is different from social ability. The Psychologist also expressed worry that Boo will interact only on her own agenda. But when prompted to look at the Psychologist she wouldn’t. Again I said, had her therapists she sees everyday had conducted the testing I believe the results would have been different.

But they are standardized tests and the tests have to be done the same way. Yeah, I heard you the first time.

I asked if where Boo is developmentally may have some impact on her social “ability”. Unfortunately as delayed as Boo is, developmentally her social development is even more hindered. Had the delays been closer together they would not have been so concerned.

But here is the kicker…when asked how this changes what we do for Boo. Now that she is autistic what therapies do we add, what do we take away, do we try play therapy, try yoga again, anything that I haven’t thought of….I was told:

“Keep doing whatever you are doing”.


Yeah, thanks for that.

I’m not upset by the autism label. Okay I was at first. I was worried that I am in denial. However in truth, my fear of the label is that doctors, teachers and therapists will stop looking to see what is at the root of Boo’s issues. I called her neurologist, whom I not only adore but respect and trust. 

Am I in denial?, I asked. Has Boo had autism all along and I just didn’t want to know?

No, she replied. With the standardized testing Boo qualifies for the autism diagnosis. We have never tested her before with ADOS due to her intellectual disability. Once you get down to the testing, where her strengths and weakness are clearly shown you get a better picture.  But (and this is an important but she stressed) autism is not only what is wrong with Boo. What is wrong with Boo is she has an unknown genetic disorder, an intellectual disability and other medical concerns that now include autism. 

Our Boo, she said, is something unknown and also all these things we can name. Our goal now is to make sure no one ever stops looking at the whole child.  

I struggled with this post, for some time. I struggled with understanding what autism means to me. I have plenty of friends whose children have autism. I know it doesn’t make them less. I know that they are just like Boo, unique and lovely and precious. But after all this time this was one diagnosis I never considered. Or been told to consider by her team.

I just thought Boo had an intellectual delay. I think, honestly that was easier to deal with because delay just meant she hadn’t caught up yet. Flights are delayed all the time but eventually you get to your destination. 

Epiphany time! There was a hope that was buried deep in my heart that I never knew was lingering: that she would, someday, catch up and plateau. Did I think she would be a Harvard grad? Not so much. But then I am not too impressed with Harvard grads lately. 

You don’t recover from autism. Boo will always be intellectually disabled. The hope I didn’t know existed kind of broke my heart for a day or two. I struggled with this added diagnosis and the realization Boo may never catch up. My love never wavered that she will always be my Boo. That we will always do what we have been doing and continue to defy those who say she will not do….

It wasn’t until someone asked me if Boo was “a little autistic” and I could realize with a smile, that being a little autistic was like being a little pregnant.

Yes, Boo is autistic but she is also something so much more”, I replied.



Different choices

When Abby was young we research schools, private and public. We started in Montessori and would have kept her there if there was an option of a larger school. When we had Boo that changed.




We could no longer afford private school. Thankfully that is the only thing we had to compromise with having Boo. But still, the choice to move to public school for both girls was one we thought long and hard about.

Long enough to contemplate giving up wine, vacations and chocolate.

Thankfully we live in an awesome town. One that has a great educational program, both for the typical and the special. Abby had a hard transition to the formal education program, rather than the more nurturing Montessori. It took time for her to find her groove, but she did. 

I haven’t really thought of our choice for public school. Boo has thrived, simply thrived in her program. Unlike other families we have fallen into a simply awesome program. And then it happened.

I was at the grocery store and ran into a mother of a child who was a classmate of Boo’s last year. Her child had moved on to kindergarten. I asked, innocently enough, how E was enjoying kindergarten. For some reason I assumed that she was in the same public school system. Until the mom informed me they had gone the private school route. 

“You have to have Boo go there for kindergarten”, she innocently said.

In my head I am thinking do you remember Boo? She is right here sitting in the shopping cart. Unlike other 5 year-olds who no longer fit in the cart. Boo is being Boo. Cute, adorable Boo. But not anywhere on par with her own child.

I simply reply that we love the program she is currently enrolled. In my mind I am thinking that we won’t know until late Spring if Boo will be ready for kindergarten or if she will spend a 4th year in pre-K. Which, if needed, I am generally fine with. Until a mother innocently assumes that Boo is “normal” and will be following the normal trajectory of education.

This mother didn’t mean to make me catch my breath. It is just one of those moments when I hit the wall. The wall of knowing that with Boo I have different decisions to make. Ones that will impact Abby more than Boo. Ones where Boo takes precedent of Abby. Our family. Knowing that where we live matters. That we cannot move or change careers or schools at a whim. Knowing that to give Boo the best life possible we all make sacrifices.

Even Abby. Although she doesn’t know it. Abby is in public school because the cost of a special needs child is quadruple (made up figure) what a typical child costs. That we need a larger car to fit Boo’s chair. That we have to pay for extra health insurance . That I have to limit my hours at a well-paying job to be there for Boo’s appointments. Limiting my paycheck and David’s as well. We haven’t saved as we had before Boo. Our savings account has not grown as we expected. This Christmas was a perfect illustration of our new situation. That we didn’t spoil our loved ones as in years past.

We are so, so, so, very lucky to live in a town with a great public school system. One that nurtures both girls. That allows both girls to not only achieve their potential but surpass it. I don’t begrudge Boo. David doesn’t even consider it. Abby, if she knew, would be okay with it.

And I am too. 

Until an innocent bystander assumes that Boo could just transition to a typical classroom.

I owe an apology

Like many, I have fallen trap to a Facebook hoax. I reshared a link that stated Jenny McCarthy informed the world that her son did not have autism. Thankfully she was quick to rebuke the misleading information. By misinformation I am speaking to the fact that she has never said her son does not have autism.

I rarely reshare celebrity stories or thoughts because I usually do not believe (or care about) the hype.  But in this case it hit a nerve.

 

I admire Ms. McCarthy for being a proponent of autism education. I admire her dedication to her son and her willingness to say this is what autism looks like. I do wish more people would say MAY look like.  As any friend of mine with a child who has autism will tell you, they are unique from the color of their hair to their behavior to their abilities.

However her strong campaign against vaccination is something I cannot agree. It worries me when people use a celebrity endorsement to justify their own actions or non-actions. It is one thing to decide to go gluten-free to do your own investigation on how your child will react. It is another not to vaccinate your child (and potentially expose other children) to a life-threatening disease. In the only published study linking vaccinations to autism the lead researcher lost his medical license due to his irresponsibility in the conduction of the study and the study was revoked from medical publication. 

I understand that you can interpret a study to suit your purpose. Pro- or anti- vaccine link. I am not speaking to that as I am completely inept at that discussion.To paraphrase the Vice President of Clinical Innovation at Cedars-Sinai stated to the National Geographic: you can have an opinion but you cannot state that opinion as fact.

I have two different views on this subject, from two ladies I both respect and admire.

The first is a mom who decided not to vaccinate her children. However she did this after reading medical journals, doing her own research and consultation with her children’s pediatricians.

The second is a mom who vaccinated her children, but to her it was a deep seeded belief to vaccinate. Her mom was a polio survivor. But survivor is probably a poor term. Her mother was a polio warrior. One who suffered in the time before vaccination. She fought polio until her death at age 70. Her children watched her suffer and live with grace.

Myself? I honestly didn’t think of it with either child. I automatically vaccinated them. However with Boo I spoke with her pediatrician and they modified the schedule due to her health issues. Our Pedi is great. She is very conservative when it comes to vaccinations–even the flu shot–and will minimize the quantity of vaccinations given at one visit. And if you have a runny nose? She will reschedule your appointment and not six months from now. Just call and stop by. She is quite awesome, in addition to saving Boo’s life five years ago.

I am on my soapbox here, and I admit it. I also have no problem telling you and everyone else my opinion on something. But you should never use a “Jenn said” as your reason for choosing a course of action with your child.  

As far as autism and the decision not to vaccinate, research has proven that there is no correlation. In most cases this would be a non-issue. The studies have proven time and again that there is no link. However celebrity causes will continue to advocate for more research. Which is great, that is what you should advocate: more research not telling a scared mom that a vaccine gave her child autism.

The decision not to vaccinate your child should be based on your own research, consultation with your physician and a heck of a lot of soul-searching.

But never on the basis of a celebrity. 

A year of thankful

I haven’t played with Lizzi in a while. Not that I haven’t been thankful, just been to busy to give Thanks. I am sure I’m not the only one! To suck up show how thankful I am here I am breaking the rules (go figure) and doing 12 things of thankful. One for every month of 2013 I survived. 

January, I was thankful for the Liebster award.

February, I was thankful for Abby’s sense of humor and honest about who her favorite person is (hint, not me).

March, I was thankful for people understanding that the word Retard means something different to me now and joining me in abolishing the word.

April made me thankful for Jimmy Buffett as I realize he gives us the soundtrack for a laid back life. The sound track, not the manual.

May I was thankful to be able to tell people what drives me crazy.

June I was not thankful for yard work but happy to know I am not alone.

July I was thankful for all the ways my girls make me smile.

August I was thankful for husbands.

September I was thankful the girls were back in school. Also that boys are gross.

October I was thankful for Boo’s therapists and friends that let me take the easy way out.

November I was just thankful for Boo.

December I am thankful that I have come a long way since January.




Ten Things of Thankful

We are still okay…

Boo has had to undergo neurological/psychiatric testing over the past two weeks. There hasn’t been any issues, other than her turning five. In our state (for insurance purposes, I believe) once you turn the ripe old age of five you are no longer allowed to be undiagnosed and/or globally delayed.

Boo had to go twice, for two hours each day, to meet with a psychologist for a battery of tests. (I think battery is a strong word, she didn’t hurt Boo). The tests varied from intelligence/cognitive testing to behavioral/autism to play skills. Part of me wanted Boo to bomb the testing, securing her services. The good mom in me wanted her to excel.

Typical Boo she did a little of both and managed to frustrate the doctor. I wish I could have Kristi’s artistic talent to demonstrate the following (I tried, I failed, I didn’t want to hurt your eyes):

Doctor: Boo stack the blocks like this (imagine, two next to each other and one on top)
Boo: (hands the doctor the blocks after banging them for a minute)

Doctor: Can Boo climb onto and out of an adult chair?
Boo: Moves said chair next to exam table, proceeds to climb on top of chair, to table, to window sill in an attempt to get out of the room. We happen to be on the 10th floor and very thankful the windows don’t open.

I’m impressed that Boo realized she had to do something with both the blocks and the chair. The doctor is distressed that she cannot follow direction.

At the end of the two days the doctor asked us if we had any questions. I ask her how she feels Boo did. She had previously thrown out words: autism, PPD-NOS, mentally disabled, intellectually disabled, ADHD and a bunch of other terms. Her response:

I have to score the tests.

Hm…now those that know me know that I tend not to be brushed off. I (politely, I swear) reminded the woman that she was an experienced professional who must have some instinct to how Boo had tested.

After a moment or two she told us that she honestly didn’t know. That she wanted to show the test results and video to not only Boo’s neurologist (whom I adore and trust) along with other colleagues. How Boo performed was baffling:

She shows signs of Autism: Will not look the doctor in the eye.

She shows signs that a child with Autism wont: She told the doctor to “look” and sought her attention.

Autism: Hand flapping, quickly distracted, would not follow directions, toe walking
Not: Social, engaging with materials, attempts to please, would put heals down when prompted by cue

Autism: lack of safety awareness
Not: asked for help when trying to get down off the exam table


Intellectually disabled: Cannot copy a “t” on the paper
Not intellectually disabled: can hold a pencil in the correct grasp

ID: Cannot follow a two-step direction
Not: Knew she needed a pencil to draw on paper

ID: Poor motor planning
Not: Pushed chair to get to top of exam table

The examples go on and on. In the end the doctor said at this point Boo is a Medical Enigma.

Where have I heard that before?


She will convene a team (about damn time) to look over everything. She agrees (as do neurology and genetics) that whatever is going on is neurological in origin. In the end it doesn’t really matter what “term” they give Boo. I think Bridgetitis is a lovely term. We will continue to advocate, get therapies that work and love her the same with or without a medical diagnosis.

At five years old, she remains undiagnosed and we are still okay with that.


I stalk Stephanie Sprenger

Last New Year’s Eve my friend Jenn and I were sitting in front of her fireplace trying to warm freezing our butts. She had an epiphany: Let’s go someplace warm next Thanksgiving.

I learned long ago to listen when Jenn says…to do anything she tells you. Last week we drove from New England to Cape Coral, Florida for Thanksgiving.  Other than Abby puking in Jersey the drive was really uneventful. Easy even.

We drove through the night, stopping in Jacksonville FLA the next evening. We stayed at the Hyatt along the river front. It was quite beautiful but packed due to a conference. In the elevator (because we are rude and nosy) we listened to as the 20 odd people crammed in with us talked about music therapy.

Turns out we dropped right into a conference for Music Therapist. There were thousands of them. Stephanie at Mommy for Real happens to be a music therapist. I missed Blog-Her but she must be here, right? Right? I began stalking the hallways, the bar, the roof top pool. But no Stephanie.

Of course we found the one Irish bar within walking distance. She wasn’t there either. But I found wine so it was all good. I also met some great people (in my hunt for Stephanie) because after a glass of wine and 20-odd hours in the car I am no longer shy. As we were the only ones in the bar that were not part of the conference we kind of stood out.

David started asking questions and telling them about Boo. They were so helpful, giving us websites in our area to check out.

While I never did find Stephanie I may have found one other way for Boo to spend her afternoons!