It’s IEP season again. For the uninitiated readers, IEP stands for Individualized Education Program.
Each year, my husband and I meet with our son’s school team of teachers and therapists and spend hours at this IEP meeting discussing all of the things that he can’t do.
It’s nearly always a soul crushing experience.
In January of this year we leaned that in addition to autism, ADHD, and sensory processing disorder, our boy also has severe dyslexia and dysgraphia. The IEP is a necessary evil so that we may construct a plan as a team to help him learn to overcome his obstacles and maximize his potential.
Like most autism parents, I spend weeks before the meeting writing, changing, and rewriting goals for my son’s IEP.
I spend months before that meeting collecting data to use as my justification to secure specific services that I believe he needs to have a successful future.
There are so many reasons why these meetings suck the life out of me and other parents who have to face this same annual battle.
For me, the main reason is it forces me to face the frightening future of unknown circumstances.
I like our little snow globe. My son is currently in a self contained classroom, with a 1:1 para (who is absolutely adored by my son), and has friends. His teacher is kind, compassionate, and really understanding about the “Individualized” portion of the IEP.
I feel content here in our little safe place. I know my son is secure in this sweet spot that I have fought so hard to secure for him.
Unfortunately, snow globes often break and bubbles pop.
Change is inevitable.
Children grow, puberty starts, and middle school follows (though not always in that order).
My daughter is finishing her first year of middle school. It hasn’t been easy.
She came from an elementary school where, despite her brilliant intellect, she had a very hard time both academically and educationally.
She was bullied severely by a peer who would trick her almost daily into believing she was her friend, only to find herself as the victim time and time again.
Her teachers would complain that she was inattentive but bright and just didn’t apply herself enough.
I finally had enough of her school and took control of the wheel myself. I obtained an outside therapist for my daughter. She needed an objective person to confide in who could also provide her with successful coping strategies when faced with circumstances that are challenging to navigate.
I also had her evaluated for ADD as well as auditory processing disorder and sure enough, THAT was the problem she had been struggling with academically for years. Making the choice to try medications at that point was an easy one. I secured a 504 for her at her new school. It was the best thing I could have ever done.
I struggled with severe ADHD as well as sensory processing disorder for my entire life, only recently receiving my diagnosis as an adult. It became crystal clear to me that if only I had received the right tools at her age, my life would have been drastically different.
I’m thrilled to report that my daughter has been on the honor roll since she started middle school. Parent/teacher conferences are an absolute joy to attend, and my daughter has learned to become comfortable in her own skin.
She is a super smart, kind, talented young lady and I’m pretty sure that I learn more from her than I could ever teach her in a lifetime.
However, every day as I sit outside of her school at dismissal, I watch carefully. I see how the kids tease one another mercilessly. I’ve needed to get out of my car to defend and protect a child who was being bullied. I’ve watched sixth graders way-too-comfortably kissing in the park. Their lack of inhibitions in public cause me to cringe at the thought of what they have been doing when left unsupervised.
Flash forward a couple of years.
My son will be here, in this environment, very soon.
Too soon for my comfort.
I will be forced to leave my safe, comfortable bubble.
This upcoming IEP can’t just have educational goals. I feel the need to add a LOT of social skills to this IEP.
My sweet boy is trusting and naive and doesn’t understand how easily he can be manipulated. He does however, recognize when he is being laughed AT and he despises it. It shreds my heart to see him being made fun of. The knowledge that he will soon be leaving the school where he is as safe as he can be haunts me constantly.
I know how cruel middle school children can be. I’ve seen those kids rip apart those who are different from them. I watch as they play basketball after school, something my son loves to do, and cringe at the thought that my boy will be rejected as he often has been in the past.
It’s unfortunate that IEP’s can’t include goals for the “neuro-typical” school children too. Goals like the rest of the kids will learn to be kind and accepting of children who are a bit different.
Progress always comes at a cost.
I just pray that it comes with a price tag that we can afford.
In the meantime, I’ll enjoy our happy little snow globe for a bit longer.
