Sunday, August 29, 2010

Dear Former Day Care Director....

Dear Former Day-Care Director,

This is my fault. I usually have a feeling about people. I either trust you or I don't. And, I trusted you. I feel stupid now.

You made me feel like this was a "family." I bought into that. What a fool I was.

You took my child home with you "after-school" less than a month ago to play with your boys,. If he is a monster, why in the world would you want to do that?

You said, "It is not working out." On a Facebook message. Curt was there almost two years. I don't think he has changed much. I think your personnel has changed and you don't want to deal with it. But, you could have talked to me in person -- or, at least on the phone to give me this major decision.

I gave you money for almost two years. Lots of money. But, I trusted you with my child. That is worth so much more. You gave me three days to find an alternative. That doesn't seem fair.

At very least of my concerns, I thought we were friends. I feel very betrayed. I will not get over this any time soon. And, when we went to soccer practice Thursday and I saw your car, I almost drove away. But, you did. Because you feel bad. And, dammit, you should.

PS. This teacher WILL be abusive to another child. Just give it time. It will happen. And, by the way? You can't kick my kid out because he has a disability. Not that I care. I don't want him there if he is not wanted. But, a lawsuit is just waiting to happen for you. Most people aren't as nice as I am.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

In Which the Other Shoe Drops

So, the meeting with the school went actually very well. My husband and mother were there with me. A BIP (Behavior Intervention Plan) was initiated and I agree with everything on it. Mary C. called in on the meeting! Excellent! Least Restrictive Environment. You LT moms know what I am saying.

They all agreed he is a very smart little boy. And can be very sweet, when not being a little shit. I questioned later the conprehensive eval, but was told he had never had one since all his IEPs had been done before K. I agree to that. I spoke to the school psychologist today and I fully trust her intentions. Whew. Their goal is to have him out for speech three times a week (which I already knew) and then have him in resourse (that would be special ed for you newbies) the other two days for thirty minutes to work on behavior techniques. I can work with that.

Until day, that was my biggest worry. And, I felt so much better about it. Until...

(now is the moment the other shoe drops...)

We have had an issue with one teacher at his preschool (now afterschool) being excessively harsh to him during time-outs. Losing her cookies, if you will. I complained once before. Yesterday, Curt told me, "Tree (this is his nickname for her) pulled my arm hard and scratched me." This child never offers up anything. So, I sent the director a message today about it. Very nice. Maybe he was talking about the last time? Grain of salt.

The response I got was that his behavior has deteriorated recently. Really? Big School? His two favorite teachers leaving? All within one month? And, he was asked to leave. After a year and a half. Friday being his last day.

Is God testing me? How much more shit can I take? I didn't even cry. I'm sure I will, but I didn't.

He will go to afterschool and I will worry about summer later. Maybe he can go where Tippee now teaches. All things happen for reason. Right?

Edited in an attempt to take the high road....

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

When the Bough Breaks...

I was so full of hope after this last year. How well he did on his Kindergarten test and his preschool graduation. My meeting with the school to form a transition plan and to choose a teacher. How proactive I was! I was really getting the hang of all this. Curt is a smart boy and people were seeing that! Everything was going to be fine!

First day of school. Note from Miss M said he hit another child and didn't want to sit still during work or centers. But, there was good news, too! And a happy face in the behavior circle!

Second day. Pretty much the same note. Good things, then bad things. But, still received a happy face for behavior.

Third Day. Again, pretty much the same. But, Happy Face!

Fourth Day as I am walking him into school. The Assistant Principal is outside helping the kids come in. She introduces herself, didn't think we had met. I smiled, shook her hand. She said, "After you take Curt to his room, I'd like for you to stop by my office. I need to talk to you."

And with that, my bubble of hope burst.

We need to meet on Friday to develop a Bahavioral Intervention Plan. They would like him to qualify for additional services he now doesn't qualify for because his "label" if you will is speech. It would have to be changed to developmental delay or social delay to qualify for those additional services. Those "special" services.

The last four years, I have been pounding the pavement to get him to therapies, paying thousands for those theapies and assessments. And I worry.

But I know that if I work hard enough, this will not happen to my child.

Yet, it has.

That hard work is not going to keep me from going to the principal's office Friday for this meeting. Where they get to tell me everything he is doing wrong. Which, basically equates to everything I have done wrong. I have failed myself, and I have failed him.

Pity Party over. See ya on the flipside.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

First Day of School

During the night, I heard a little seems far to me. "Mommy, help me." Then, I woke up.

I took him to the classroom. He hung up his backpack, sat at his seat and began coloring. I waited for my kiss. It didn't happen. I walked the long hallway and out the door. I got in my car. Only then did I "leak" behind my sunglasses. But, there was no sobbing on an "ugly cry." I consider that a great success.

Perhaps the dream was more about me then about Curt. Oh, my little one, I wish you the happiest day and I hope the teachers can see that wonderful light in your eyes. The picture of you and Tippie is in your school box. She is there with you. I love you.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

An Emotional Week and a Poem

I dedicate this post to those two young women mentioned in the following paragraphs who live it to that standard. Both are going to be teachers. One takes care of Autistic children and wants to a a Special Education teacher. They have been wonderful to Curt and to me. Fly way, T and B. But, don't ever forget how much you have meant to Curt...and to me.

We have had our first problem at preschool. I have shed many tears over this, but feel hopeful it will be resolved. One teacher, when she puts Curt in time-out, loses her cool, screams and holds his hands...until they turned blue. I have formally complained. First time ever.

And his favorite teacher (and person), Miss Tippee's last day was yesterday. His second favorite is leaving to student teach in two weeks. They are sisters and I have become very attached to them. Everything is changing and as I get, ahem, older, change gets harder and harder. It is going to be an emotional week. Found this poem seems poignant. Kindergarten starts Thursday. If you pray, pray for me.

I know Curt can now talk, but....I think you know what I mean....

I Am The Child
(author unknown to me)
I am the child who cannot talk. You often pity me, I see it in your eyes. You wonder how much I am aware of. I see that as well. I am aware of much...whether you are happy or sad or fearful, patient or impatient, full of love and desire , or if you are just doing your duty by me. I marvel at your frustration, knowing mine to be far greater, for I cannot express myself or my needs as you do.

You cannot conceive my isolation, so complete it is at times. I do not gift you with clever conversation, cute remarks to be laughed over and repeated. I do not give you answers to your everyday questions, responses over my well being, sharing my needs, or comments about the world about me. I do not give you rewards as defined by the world's standards...great strides in development that you can credit yourself; I do not give you understanding as you know it.

What I give you is so much more valuable...I give you instead opportunities. Opportunities to discover the depth of your character, not mine; the depth of your love, your commitment, your patience, your abilities; the opportunity to explore your spirit more deeply than you imagined possible. I drive you further than you would ever go on your own, working harder, seeking answers to your many questions with no answers. I am the child who cannot talk.