On Gray Hairs and Finally Breathing

Dear Dexter,

Since March Daddy and I have been waging a small battle on your behalf, mostly invisible to you.  Which is perhaps the wrong approach, because you've got a new interest in war and battles, so this battle may well have been interesting to you.  Or maybe not, because it involved a lot of writing.  Which is perhaps not the kind of battle you want to participate in.

It would seem we shouldn't have to battle, right?  You're a good kid.  You're doing well in school.  Your teachers are great, and they seem to "get you," which is a relief for sure.  So why the battle?  Precisely because you ARE doing so awesome in school, with all the supports you have in place.  Because you're doing a nice job of meeting some of your goals.  And the fear we have is that school will say "he's doing so awesome, he doesn't NEED all this support we're giving him.  The data doesn't show he needs it."  And then your services would POOF!  Disappear.

So Daddy and I worked together, with the help of our awesome friend Ms Carin and some very useful websites, to voice our concerns, legally, in your IEP, where your teachers would have to have an answer for each concern.  Your teachers stepped up last spring and created a really excellent IEP that covered your needs and told who you were as a student.

As soon as school started this fall we asked for your three year re-evaluation, with additional testing for Gifted Services.  Because you've been coming home from school every day since Kindergarten telling us how bored you are, and how you never learn anything in school.  And that re-evaluation, right there, took years off your mom's life, my dear boy.  The emotional toll of waiting, and writing down ALL THE BAD THINGS, even if that's not the entire picture, (because school needs to know ALL THE BAD THINGS so they understand why you need services), and filling out the little bubble questionnaires, as if a seven year old can be accurately portrayed with bubble answers...  Years off my life, kiddo.  Years.  And many gray hairs.  The waiting.  The not knowing.  The hoping you're doing well in school, but NOT TOO WELL - don't let them see you succeed too much, lest they take away the very things that make you so successful!

I didn't realize how much I'd been holding my breath, and mentally preparing my next fight, until we got the evaluation report yesterday.  And now, finally now, I can breathe again.  YES to an OT consult, for your sensory issues.  YES to Speech Therapy, where they are working on some minor pronunciation things but also working on communication skills and how to talk appropriately to peers.  YES to Social Skills, where you bring home excellent social knowledge and sometimes even remember to apply it to real social situations.  YES to Friendship Group, where you can work on those social skills with neurotypical peers.  And, finally, YES YES YES to Gifted Services.  When your new IEP goes in to place in December some time, you will begin to be pulled a few times a week to work in small groups, on projects that will interest you.  So so very perfect for you.

Last night I had a chance to chat with your teacher and with your Special Ed teacher.  They both adore you.  They both are looking out for what is best for you.  They both commended you for how much progress you have made at school this year - your anxiety continues to decrease, you continue to make progress regulating your emotions independently, you continue to be the best Dexter advocate there is, totally unafraid to speak up and say "Dude.  No.  Nope.  I'm not doing this."  Also, you are making Mrs. Younger so very proud, making HUGE strides in your willingness to write.

Daddy and I have certainly not been alone in this process.  You've been a big part of it - you've been pulled out of class multiple times for testing.  You've been observed.  You've had feedback meetings.  People are in your room frequently, watching you and taking data on your every move.  You're under a microscope all the time at school, and I imagine that can be stressful.  We're grateful that you've been able to deal with all the disruptions as well as you have.

Will Daddy and I continue to worry about you, and continue to prepare for battle?  Absolutely.  Constant Vigilance.  But I do think that maybe, just maybe, we'll be able to breathe for a little bit.

Love you lots,
Mama

PS - for a good month now you've been calling me Mom, and Daddy Dad.  You've made the transition fairly seamlessly.  Me?  Not so much.  I can't get used to it.  I'm trying.  But it's so very odd to me.