My husband and I work full time.  Fortunately, we are blessed with a wonderful extended day program at our kids school, that they attend for about 90 minutes before school and about an hour afterwards.  They certainly seem to love it, anyway.

Thing is, we’ve come to realize that L is incredibly tightly wound – the poor kid’s on high alert at all times, especially when at school or extended day.  And the minute he gets home, there’s a good chance he’s going to blow out.

So starting today, we’re pulling both M and L out of daycare in the mornings, and on Monday/Tuesday afternoons.  That’s another 90 minutes a day (at least) that they get to chill in the comfort of their own home, and don’t have deal with tons of transitions (do you realize how many transitions occur during the school day – and even during a single hour of day care?  It’s a lot!).

Of course, me being me, I’m hoping that this change will solve all the world’s problems, and we can be a nice, normal family.  Of course, that’s not how it works.  Maybe we’ll see a dramatic change, but more likely, we won’t see anything – at least not in the short run.  But even so, it can only help our kids to spend more time relaxing, and less time performing.

Because for the first few years of their lives, relaxation was not an option.  And their little systems deserve a break.

Yesterday, we had what I’m calling a “not-quite-IEP” meeting for L, to deal with some of his behaviors.  The meeting included the school psychologist, his primary teacher, his resource teacher, his therapist and myself.

Over and over again, I was struck by how much this group LOVES my boy.  Their willingness to think outside the box, make sacrifices, answer every question I had, fill out assessments – just boggles my mind.

Because usually, when I hear about schools and special needs kids, I don’t hear good stuff.  I hear about resistance and battles, not participation and cooperation.

I left knowing we had a good plan in place that won’t just help manage L’s behaviors, but will him him heal.  I left knowing more information about my son, that will help us with him at home.

But mostly, I left grateful.  I love this school!

The decision’s been made – L will repeat the second grade.

Yesterday was L’s IEP meeting at the school.  His school is so awesome!  They all love him so much, and take such joy in even the smallest gains he makes. And he has been making gains – especially in small group settings.

But even with all the support he’s been receiving, he is far behind second grade standards.  And to be honest, he’s probably behind on first grade standards too – in fact, M, who’s in first grade, is doing far superior work than L.

Thing is, L’s not stupid.  Testing shows that he’s got average to above average intelligence – he just had a lousy start to life, which has caused him to fall behind academically.  In addition, he’s very immature for his age – he’s not even really comfortable around kids his own age.  Finally, he’s fully aware that he’s not like the other kids, academically or socially, and that just eats at his little heart.

Its that last factor that really made the decision for us.  He may never catch up academically – and we’re okay with that (though I’m NOT giving up hope).  He may always be immature and an introvert.  But one thing we have learned is that he responds best to being “successful” – to be able to complete a task successfully, whether at home, in the classroom, or on the football field.  He needs to be in a place where he has a chance of being successful on some level, any level – and our best hope for that next year is if he repeats this grade. Maybe because he’ll be familiar with second grade, he’ll be able to be the kid who knows what the drill is.  Maybe the repetition of homework assignments will allow him to complete them – and complete them well. Maybe being with kids who are a little younger than him will help him make a friend (just ONE friend, please!).

Or maybe not.  Maybe he’ll be in the exact same place this time next year. We just don’t know.

Just to be clear, we got absolutely no pressure from the school on this.  In fact, WE initiated the discussion, and the school was initially resistant.  But by the end of the IEP, we all agreed that this was the best thing we could do for L based on what we know right now.

It doesn’t hurt that he’s a tiny little guy, and so will not stand out physically.  And, he has an early birthday, so he won’t stand out in that way either.

As much as I know this is the right move, I still wonder (but then, I’m prone to second guessing myself).  And I hurt for my sweet boy that he didn’t get the right start in school. But I’m so grateful that he’s at a school that doesn’t only care about his test scores – they truly care about his heart and soul. If he’s going to spend an extra year at any school, I’m glad its here.

Per Merriam Webster, courage is defined as “mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty”.

Our kids’ school gives out what they call “Character Counts” awards.  I used to think of these things as a public school’s attempt to teach morality by rewarding kids who supposedly exemplify certain character traits, such as honesty, acceptance, etc.

Yesterday, L received an award for demonstrating the trait of Courage.  And suddenly, all my cynicism regarding these awards melted away.

Remember, this is the kid who last year at this time was getting called into the Vice-Principal’s office on a near-weekly basis.  Yesterday, he was being feted for being courageous.

I’m not sure what criteria the school used to recognize L for his courage – but here’s how I see it:

• Every day he returns to the school where he was originally labelled as weird by his peers – he is courageous.
• Every time he attempts his homework when he think he can’t do it – he is courageous.
• Every time he goes to therapy and makes eye contact with the therapist – he is courageous.
• Every time he says he’s sorry – he is courageous.
• But mostly, every time he shows his tender heart, instead of hiding it away to protect it – he is courageous.

I wish you could have seen the look on his face – first, as he saw that both daddy and I were at the awards presentation, and second, when he went up to receive his award.  “Beaming” isn’t strong enough a word.  You earned it buddy, enjoy it!

School starts today (insert applause and cheers here!).

I’m still amazed at how well the kids during the Christmas vacation, considering their normal routine went right out the window.  That was probably due to our keeping things as simple as we possible could, but also due to the kids own growth.

But now, we go back to the normal routine of get up, get ready, go to school, come home, rest, do homework, play, eat, watch cartoons, go to bed, lather, rinse, repeat.  I’m kind of regretting that their time of play is over, but they really do need the structure that school supplies.  And L is even excited that school started today, so that’s always something to celebrate!

Oy.  Its 9am, and I’m exhausted.  Why?  Because our daughter, M, had another of her morning meltdowns.

I’ve said this before, but please don’t confuse a meltdown with your standard temper tantrum.  M woke up crying.  She drooled.  She screamed.  She refused to get dressed for school, and when we tried to put her clothes on her ourselves, she kicked them off.  This went on for a full hour.  I ended up taking her to school without her having had any breakfast, or brushing her teeth.

And she’s had 4 of these in the last 7 school days.

So here’s the question – do we push her to get ready (after all, my husband and I do have to go to work, and she does have to go to school), or do we let the meltdown run its course.  Thing is, I don’t know how long that course is!  Would she go on forever?  And does she need the reality check of being forced to get ready?

And another question – how do we force her to get ready?  Clearly, we can’t dress her when she’s like this.  I don’t want to spank her – and even if we did, I don’t think that would help.  Do we take toys away?  Do we give her a consequence when she gets home from school, or is that too far away from the time of the incident?

Do we do the reverse, and basically bribe her to get ready (with nickels, treats, toys, other rewards?).  Yes, its bribery, but is it more important to snap her out of the meltdown, or be “right”?  If we bribe her for getting ready, do we do the same with her brother?

I know, its our crazy season, so I should expect more of these, but still, there’s GOT to be a way to manage them better.

Just completed the Parent-Teacher conferences for all three kids, and overall, I’m pleased with how things are going.

N is doing remarkably well, considering that less than a year ago, he was an only child.  The issues he’s now having have nothing to do with the addition of M&L to his life – they’re all about him wanting to do as little work as possible!

M is turning out to be a very bright girl, with one major problem – she doesn’t like following directions.  And unlike her brother, the consensus is that she’s totally capable of following directions, and chooses not to.  How do we know that, you ask?  Her teacher has worked with ADHD kids before, and believes her behavior is totally different.  And when I watch her, its almost as though I can see her brain churning, then landing on a bad decision.  With L, there’s no churn – just action.  So I’m trying to come up with ideas to help prompt M to make good decisions.

For L, there was good news and not-so-good news.  The good news is that he’s doing really well socially.  There’ve been no agressive behaviors, the other kids like him, and even choose him to work with on projects and such.  The not-so-good news is that he’s falling even further behind academically, and its gotten to the point where if his teacher tries to make any more accomadations for him, the kids will REALLY notice, and he’ll stand out for all the wrong reasons.  So the decision was made by his dad and I to have him to to the Resource Center four times a week, for the morning.

Now, I know that there are those who are adamantly opposed to “pull-out” services – that the best interests of the child are served by keeping kids in the least restrictive environment possible, even if it means bringing aides in for support.  But here’s the thing – L thrives in quiet environments that have minimal distractions – the classroom is a naturally stressful place for him.  The Resource Center is going to be much calmer, and I really believe he’ll thrive there.

And its not like he’s not going to be a part of his class anymore. He’ll be with his classmates for recess, and in the afternoon, and any special events.

I hope we’ve made the right decision.  We’re just trying to do whats best for him.

You know, when you go through adoption training, or read books on adoption, you tend to only hear the horror stories about the public school system. How they don’t want to have anything to do with special needs kids; how they want to deny services, or better yet, get him into another school – any school – so they don’t have to deal with your kid.

Happily for us, that has NOT been the case with our kids’ school. In fact, I think they serve as a model for how a school should approach kids who’s lives started with trauma and neglect.

One of our kids had some pretty significant behavior issues last year, and they were behind educationally. So did the school try to sweep the issues under the mat, or just hope for the best? No. As soon as they saw the history, they called us in to a meeting to brainstorm ways the school could best support our child. And they showed them nothing but love and encouragement – alongside any necessary consequences – for the remainder of the school year.

Now we’re getting ready for the next school year, and sure enough, I got a call from the school asking if I wanted to meet with our kid’s new teacher. Heck yea! And today, I spent an hour with the teacher and vice-principal, reviewing what we’ve learned over the summer, brainstorming ways we could help our kid be successful, watching this teacher pull every idea she could out of her head.

Our school really exemplifies the best our educational system has to offer. For them, the focus is not on test scores, or making their lives easier. Its about truly teaching the whole child, and helping that child be their best. They love the kids in their school, and will do anything possible for them.

How can you make sure your school does the same for your kid?

• Open the lines of communication immediately. In our case, the school initiated communication. But if we were to do this again (yikes!), I’d ask to set up an appointment with the teacher and key staff right away, to give them appropriate background, and get their ideas.
• Assume the best, prepare for the worst. Meaning, don’t immediately go to battle with the school (assume they really want what’s best for your kid), but be armed with information in case you have to.
• Take advantage of your teacher’s expertise, and ask for her advice on how to support your kid. Maybe it will be great, maybe it will be horrible – but if nothing else, you’ve told him/her that you respect what they have to offer.
• Communicate with your teacher regularly. Ask if its okay if you check in periodically to get feedback. Ask for the best way to contact them.
• If at all possible, volunteer in the classroom – even if it means having to take time off work. Doing this even ONCE shows the teacher that you value your child’s education (not to mention that it shows your kid how much you love them).