Category Archives: Special education

Decisions not made

The best decision I ever made was one I never would have, if given the choice. People make choices all the time. Those decisions have unknown consequences and unknown victories.
Had I been told while pregnant that Boo would be admitted to the NICU on her fourth day of life, that we would be told her brain was not developed and she would never walk, talk, jump, love or progress. That five years later she would still be proving to be a medical enigma, I may have made a difficult decision. I would have thought I was making the best choice for myself and my family.

I would have been wrong. So wrong.

Doctors don’t know everything, testing is not always 100% accurate. The doctors for boo were well-intentioned, but they were wrong. Yes, Boo hasn’t had a tranquil childhood. I have had fears that she wouldn’t survive. Fears that she would never have a life like Abby’s. I worried, lost sleep, became a master at using Google to find remedies, treatments and novel ideas. I became a warrior mom, an activist an optimist.

I broke and continue to break.

Every time I break I think of that Fellow who didn’t believe in her. That did not understand the absolute power of a warrior parent. I remember that moment and am thankful for those broken moments as they make me appreciate how unbroken Boo really is. Being unbroken means there are a lot of decisions to make.

The decision to bring her home from the hospital and not let them define her.

The decision to send her to a daycare that loved her, that transitioned to a school that adores and supports her.

The decision to allow surgery (or not).

The decision to provide intensive therapies when we were told they were too much for her.

The decision to let Boo defy expectations, not once or twice.

There are a lot of decisions I make with Boo. Some large, some small, but all must be thought out, researched and agonized over. Yet there is one decision I never had to make and am so thankful the choice wasn’t offered.

I realize that best decision I ever made was one I didn’t have to make.

This is one face…

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Today is Autism Awareness Day. While I may not (yet) be comfortable with Boo having an added diagnosis of Autism, I am getting there. There is no escaping the fact that Boo was tested and she has been diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder. But what does this a child with autism look like?
It depends on the child. When Boo was first diagnosed my friend Julie told me that Autism Speaks has a motto: Meet one child with autism and you have met one child with autism. The children are as unique as a snowflake. Each wondrous and magical and heartbreaking beautiful.

A child with autism is born just as perfect as a child born without.

A child with autism will light up your world with their laugh just as child born without.

https://www.youtube.com/v/gFeOIM37YLU?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata

A child with autism will love and be loved by their parents, siblings and friends just like a child without.

A child with autism may love the beach, just like a child without. However it might take them longer to enjoy the experience. They may also wear sneakers at the beach but that’s okay.

A child with autism will learn to walk, run, jump and talk. Just like a child without.

https://www.youtube.com/v/WHgntYWuEW0?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata

This is what a child with autism looks like.

Photo Credit: Jen Strano

Can you tell? Can you see the autism? Probably not. I hope not. I hope when you see Boo or any child you see them and not one of their diagnoses. A child with autism works harder than the child without. A child with autism spends most of their days in therapeutic environments working to attain behaviors that will allow them to be included. A child with autism is loved by their parents and their peers. By their community.

“You are so out there” is a comment I hear a lot about Boo. But how can I hide her? If I am not out there how can you know a child with a special need and realize they are just like your own child.

Beautiful. Funny. Smart. Frustrating. Heartbreaking. Mysterious. Loving.

That’s why I blog. Why I refuse not to just stay home and hide. To hope just one person sees my child as Boo first and whatever label they put on her second. Well, eighty-third. Because let me tell you this, there is a lot of things about Boo I want people to see way before they see autism or undiagnosed genetic syndrome or intellectual disability.

This is just one face of autism.

Please join me in sharing your child’s face, their story, their life.

3/21 World Down Syndrome Day

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Today is World Down Syndrome Day, celebrated by showing the ability. Although Bridget doesn’t have Down Syndrome one of her best buddies does. Honestly a part of me feels silly writing today, like I am jumping on the advocacy wagon for a syndrome my own child doesn’t even have.

But today is important. Today you must see the ability. You must acknowledge that all children make an impact, those with Down syndrome, cerebral palsy, epilepsy, autism, multiple sclerosis and those children who are sadly typical without that something extra (pun intended).

You must acknowledge, today and every day, that children are different. That adults are different. That if we were all the same the “r” word wouldn’t hurt. That advocacy means you stand up and speak up to support those who need acceptance and tolerance. When you see the world through your child’s eye you do not see race, gender, body-size or disability. They see their friend.

World Down Syndrome Day is centered on choosing to see a child through their ability and not their disability. Children should be celebrated. Children should be encouraged to live life to their potential. Your child comes with unlimited possibilities and not one instruction manual.

Boo and her friends shouldn’t be pitied. They and their parents are not heroes. They live life to the fullest. Their milestones are celebrated a little more because they have worked hard to achieve the smallest step. Just like your child a person with special needs has determination, stubbornness, laughter and love. They go to school, join Girl and Boy Scouts, play sports and have friends.

They also have something a little extra: sometimes an extra chromosome or an undiagnosed syndrome. But life would be pretty boring if the only ice cream we had to eat was vanilla. People shouldn’t be the same. We should celebrate our differences and our abilities.

Take today 3/21 and celebrate those with something extra. Like jimmies.

For more information regarding Down Syndrome:
Heartbeats for Down Syndrome.
Massachusetts Down Syndrome Congress http://www.mdsc.org/
National Down Syndrome Society http://www.ndss.org/Down-Syndrome/
World Down Syndrome Day http://www.worlddownsyndromeday.org/

A few friends of mine are participating in a “Day in the Life” stories from parents whose child has Down Syndrome. Please take a moment and check them out, they are kind of cool!

The Bates Motel
Big Blueberry Eyes

Dear Abby

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Dear Abby,

When I had you I was terrified. The hospital nurses actually wrote, failure to bond in our chart. I was so sure I was going to fail you. Or worse, hurt you. You were an emergency c-section because (and I quote a doctor here) my body wasn’t meant to survive childbirth. I thought that meant I wasn’t supposed to be a mom.

In all honesty you were all I needed. You taught me how to be a mom. Not a perfect mom by any means. I did not think I had the love, patience or endurance for another child. You wanted a little sister so badly. You even had an imaginary friend whose name was simply “imaginary baby sister”.

Then there was Boo. From the beginning you at just five years old were my rock. You, my dear sweet child, showed me that I was strong enough to handle two daughters. You, my sarcastic truth-teller were there to keep things in perspective. You, my great educator taught others how to care for Boo.

The time you told Dawn that Boo couldn’t have peanut butter because she was allergic to dairy. The time you told a teacher that Boo was perfect, she was just in the hospital. When you taught a friend that being having a sister with a “funny pattern in her brain” just means that your sister takes a little longer to learn things. The countless times you practiced “I LOVE YOU” with Boo never knowing that is my secret desire for her to tell us she loves us.

You, Abby, are my hero. I wish I had your grace, your patience and your sense of self. You are confident in ways I can only strive to be at 40+ years. Your imagination astounds me. You are so brave, trying things that would normally terrify me. You are your father in the ways that make me love him. And in the ways that make me want to strangle him. You have an old-world soul mixed with a new-world outlook on life. You are me in the ways you are picky about eating food and in the way your sense of humor aligns with my own. You are so beautiful in your smile, your laughter and yes, your sarcasm.

On Saturday morning, I awoke exhausted. I lay in bed and listened to Boo over the monitor at 6:30 am. She was gleefully calling your name. As I ~~got out~~ pretended to get out of bed to get her I heard another voice. Yours. You entered her room and quietly said, “I’m here”. You then proceeded to take her out to the living room. You got her IPAD and gave me another hour of semi-rest. You got her muffins and only called to me when her diaper exploded.

Mom I’ll do a lot of things but I won’t take care of that!

That afternoon you received your first phone call from a classmate. You went on your first ever sleep over where I did not know the parent. I didn’t sleep that night for another reason. I was worried of course. But also marveling over how quickly a decade has gone by. How the little baby I was terrified of now completes my heart in a way I never imagined. The house is empty without your presence. I am astounded by how you have grown into such a sweet young girl soon to be tween. The excitement in your voice when you called to say good night. This is the girl you would be, maybe, if you didn’t have to tailor your life to your sister. Not that you complain, ever. But I promise you, I know the sacrifices you make for Boo. That you cannot join girl scouts, after school activities or miss birthday parties because we have Boo-centered appointments.

So thank you, my sweet Abigail. For being you. For giving me an extra hour of dozing. For giving me peace. For sharing your dreams. For giving Boo your unquestioning love. For just being your awesome self.

Keep living the dream, my Abby. When you obtain world domination this world will be a better place. I simply cannot wait to see the woman you will become.

Love,
Mom

PS you are still not getting a pony

Will my child cause your favorite teacher to be laid off?

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Last week there was an article in our local paper titled, “Special Education costs blamed for (school) layoffs“. Lucky for Boo this is not her school we are talking about. However it struck a chord. Why must we pit one against another?

Our town is small. We do not have many businesses therefore the tax burden rests on the property owners. Frequently we see battles pitting the school department against the municipal side of the budget. This is the first time, to my recollection that we are putting students (and their needs) against one another.

I am extraordinarily grateful that this article was not about our town. Yet I live with a fear that it will be soon and we should explore ways to avoid it at all costs.

Probably because this is the first time I have had a child in the “special education” cohort of the school system.

Which is not quite true. My older daughter goes three mornings a week for extra help in math. She has gone to summer school for math assistance. This is the only subject she struggles in and the school (and tax payers) have supported her needs. I am sure it is for the care they show all students and also to increase the MCAS standing of the school. A quid pro quo, if you will.

Boo on the other hand is a different situation. Boo brings tremendous value to her classroom. Her classmates will grow to be more empathetic, understanding of another’s needs and more accepting of their peers. Inclusion means that while Boo is exposed to peers for advancement while she advances their sense of community.

But she is a drain on the school system. Boo receives physical, occupational and speech therapy from the school system (which in my opinion should be the responsibility of our insurance company to pay). She has a dedicated 1:1 therapist that is with her during the school day. This is for Boo’s safety (she wanders) and to make sure she can participate in class activities. That is, after all, the purpose of inclusion: to have Boo participate. Without the aide she simply cannot.

Due to the layoffs, that other school system has modified some 1:1 care. Now a therapist will have 2 (or more) children under their responsibility. Let me explain why that is an impossible task to give that staff member. Logistically it is difficult. If you take your two children to the playground you know they will not leave. If a therapist takes Boo and her other charge, she cannot have Boo on the slide and the other child on the swing. How can she make sure both are safe? What if one has to use the bathroom?

Education-wise it is still ill-advised. The therapist sits at a table with Boo and reviews counting. If she has another charge, how can the children and the therapist concentrate and make sure the program is run correctly and with consistency? Just as a teacher with 30 students in a class cannot make sure every child understands the Vietnam War, a special needs therapist cannot split their attention equally with more than one child and be confident they are getting the most out of the child. Having another child is a distraction for all.

But who should pay? That is really the question and you are probably not going to like my answer.

I believe the parent should pay for some of the care and education. It is our child and our responsibility. However we cannot. We simply do not have the money to pay. Just as the town budget is stretched a parent of a special needs child is under a financial burden unlike no other. Our medical bills are higher, we pay out of pocket for supplemental insurance and at age 5 we are still purchasing diapers, wipes and pull-ups. Due to the amount of physician and therapy appointments we also cannot work 40 hour work-weeks. A family with a special needs child budgets in ways you never imagined. It is constricting and inventive.

Here is where I will again anger many. I also think that the tax payers should not have to pay for music, sports, clubs or electives. English, foreign language, history, math, science? Yes. That is education. But electives, including music and art, should be the responsibility of the parent to pay. Those electives are also a drain on the school system. There are pensions, salaries and healthcare costs associated with those staff members just as the special education staff.

There are a lot more students taking electives than using the special education department.

I am not sure of the answer. I do believe that we should pay a portion of Boo’s care. I firmly believe that our insurance company should have to pay for her therapies that happen in school, including her ABA therapies. I think some sliding scale should be in place to take some portion of the expense off the community.

However, if I am going to pay privately for Boo’s public education than I believe I should also have to pay for my older daughter’s music instruction.