He’s Baaaack…

I have a sneaking suspicion that the ex and his girlfriend broke up, because he’s decided to remember he has a son of his own.  He texted me in the middle of the week, saying he was sorry he was behind on child support, but that he’s been laid off, and would make a payment by the end of the week, oh, and he’s definitely a go for Easter, and could he call Thursday?

Sure, I replied.

Thursday evening rolled around, and another text that said he was still at work, and could he call Friday instead.

Sure, I replied.

He called while we were out to dinner, and I missed it, so I called him back before he could get to The Boy and start making promises that I would have to deal with when they were broken.

He laid out his plans for picking up The Boy for Easter Break, and didn’t ask for too much travel on our end.  He went on to talk about us bringing The Boy to Florida in May, because he has a friend who works at Discovery Cove, and could get us in free to every park in Orlando.  He suggested The Man and I come, too, and hang out with them for a couple of days if we wanted…

I told him I’d check the school calendar.

When he finally called to talk to The Boy on Saturday, I told him he could talk about Easter Break, but not to mention the other plans until they were more firm.

The unfortunate reality is that even positive contact with his dad has an impact on The Boy.  We are now bracing ourselves and warning his teachers, who have never experienced The Boy post-visit-to-dad’s.

And it has already begun. The slightest up-tick in defiance and rigidity, the constant fear of being left behind… All of the old emotions (and negative behaviors) return with a phone call and a promise.

The ex will never understand his own power.

IMG_2127

Time and Space

After the divorce, The Boy talked to his dad about once a week on the phone.  At least, his dad did most of the talking, unsure of how to get him to respond, and frequently pissed off because The Boy didn’t speak much at all.  Over the years, his contact with The Boy has decreased dramatically, as I somehow knew it would, sooner or later.

The ex hasn’t seen his son in almost a year.  He hasn’t spoken to him since January 23.

People rarely change, unless they invite it, seek it, and educate themselves to effect it.  None of these, unfortunately, apply to the ex.  Unfortunately for The Boy, who will probably always have a strained relationship with his dad, if he has one at all.  And unfortunately for the ex, who obviously hasn’t a clue what he is missing, and won’t be able to get this missed time with his son back.

Luckily for The Boy, I think he notices it less now that he has a step-dad around, full-time.  One who takes him for rides in the truck, wrestles with him, jokes with him, and obviously cares about him.  The Man will never replace his dad, but he sure makes up for what his dad lacks in his life.  And that’s a good thing.  Couldn’t get much better, in fact.

My Boys

First Day Report

The Boy had a great first day.  I received a note in his planner reporting on it, and an email from his new band teacher saying he did very well, and pointing out that we could work on the rests (and listen to recordings of the tunes on the band’s website).

Tuba with four rotary valves.

Just like The Boy’s but his would never, ever be found on the ground like that!

This, THIS is what I’ve been looking for.  The Boy had a communication log in elementary, and while I know that middle school is different, this communication about his day is essential to me if I want to know what’s going on.  He did struggle in social studies today (of course!), and I’m not sure what that means yet, but we’ll figure it out and get him there.He was super excited to be at his new school, and to ride the van that is his transportation to and from school.  He gets to go directly to Grammy and Poppy’s house after school, and everything in that arena worked just as it should.  Longer rides, but he isn’t the only kid in the van, and The Boy seemed happy.

I’m happy.

I think this just might work.

 

3 Things I’ve Learned from The Boy’s Worst Teacher

If you are a regular reader, you know we’ve been struggling with The Boy’s new school since day one of this school year.  They seem to have precious little experience with autism, or even with IEPs, modifications, and accommodations, which cannot be remotely possible, but here we are.  I have felt all along that their hearts are basically in the right place, they are just ignorant…  with one exception.  The Boy’s social studies teacher has repeatedly demonstrated contempt, if not for The Boy himself, then for the extra effort he requires.  She is the type of teacher who follows the textbook as if it were a bible, and pushes those 6th graders as if social studies is their only class, and their one true avocation in life.  Her assessments have little to do with the content learned, and seem to have been added as an afterthought, possibly when an administrator asked her to expand her resources to other sources than the textbook.

I received a note home from her in the planner, mid-week, that explained that The Boy had been given a modified test, and even with extra time had completed very little of it.  OK, Problem Number One: I looked back in his planner, what is supposed to be our primary method of communication between school and home, and there was no mention of a test.  I went on this teacher’s website, and there was no mention of a test, I looked back in my emails, and there was NO MENTION OF A TEST.  So I emailed the teacher immediately, pointing out that I had no previous knowledge of a test to be given this week, and was there a review sheet?  She emailed back the next day, saying she had looked in The Boy’s planner and it had been written at least four times in the last week that there was a test Wednesday…  This was an outright lie!  I had made a copy of the current page of the planner, because I like to document these notes of hers (this was not the first) that seem to imply she’s doing everything she can and The Boy is being somehow disobedient by not complying.  I emailed back to say that her statement was incorrect, that I had made copies of his planner pages, and there was nothing written in the social studies slot in the planner during the last week.  She responded, apologized and blamed it on the 11 year-old girl who helps The Boy write things in his planner, saying she had either written it in the wrong spot or had not copied exactly what was on the board.

Can you feel the anger rising in my throat by now?

We’ll get back to the outright lie in a minute.

Problem Number Two: She explained that there had been no review sheet, that the students were supposed to study from their “chapter work,” and that due to personal issues and being out for a few days the previous week, she hadn’t updated her website.  Well, The Boy didn’t have any “Chapter 3 work” to study — it had all been turned in.  I had requested review sheets from her starting with the first test (this was their third already), so that I could help him prepare and focus for the test, and again she had disregarded The Boy’s needs.

Problem Number Three: “Extended Time” as an accommodation does not mean an extra ten minutes within the same class period, and I explained this to her.  I also explained that he is entitled to take his test in another location, have his test read to him, and all of the other testing accommodations that are in his IEP.  I asked her if he could bring it home to take it and she didn’t respond.  She just keeps giving it to him every class period and expecting him to complete it.

In my opinion, this has gone beyond a teacher “trying” to provide my son with modifications and accommodations.  This is now willful ignorance.  She has a history of not communicating with me about upcoming tests.  With the first, we had one day’s notice, and with the second and third there was no notice at all.  And for all three tests, I have seen one review sheet.  She has a history of not providing modifications to his assignments, and when I requested more time for him to study before the first test, she refused.  And now, not only did she lie to me about there being four notes about this week’s test in The Boy’s planner, she had The Boy and his helper go back and write in the notes after I told her there was nothing in the planner.  She got my email, waited until the next day in class, had them write things in the previous week in his planner, and then claimed they had been written there all along.

I have requested a meeting with the principal about this, even though I am hopeful that we won’t have to deal with this too much longer.

What have I learned?

  • Document everything.  I had a feeling I should copy those planner pages the night I wrote my email.  Unfortunately, I only copied one.  But at least I have that, and I have every email she has ever written which shows this pattern of a lack of communication and a lack of willingness to accommodate my son’s needs.
  • Don’t assume every teacher has your child’s best interest at heart.  It pains me to say this, and I don’t think this is true for 99% of the teachers out there, but I’ve learned this the hard way.
  • Don’t avoid confrontation about something like this.  I could take the easy way out and just bide my time until we can get out of the school, but I know there are other kids with autism in this teacher’s class, and I can only imagine how they and every other kid with an IEP who has ever been in her class have been treated.  It’s not right, and she needs to be called on it.

Routines, Item Attachment, and Flare-ups

We almost didn’t make it to school this morning.

new rubber glassesThe Boy had forgotten his (fake) glasses at Grammy’s house last evening, and wanting to head off a last minute meltdown, I told him as soon as he woke up.  I told him we could get them later that day, and that would be alright wouldn’t it?…  I breathed a sigh of relief when he said OK, but it was premature.

Once he was dressed, and it was time to go, he announced that he wasn’t going to school because he couldn’t go without his glasses.

I cajoled, made deals (and a few threats of consequences), and was finally able to get him out the door, a half-hour late.  He wore a pair of reading glasses instead, and I went to Grammy’s, picked up his (fake) glasses, and took them to school for him.

It’s still frustrating, and there are always those moments of indecision – Do I let him stay home?  Do I let him come with me to Grammy’s to pick them up?  Or do I stick to my guns?  What is the goal here?  Today, I think I made the right choice.  I don’t always, but no one is perfect.

I’m also starting to realize that for whatever reason, the glasses offer comfort to him, and that when he has a “flare-up” like this, it is a form of self-advocacy.  He is telling me that he is not as comfortable going to school without them.  And one of the best things I ever learned about autism is this: Behavior is communication.

 

Mama Bear, You’re Not Always Right

Mother Bear with Her CubsI’ve had my share of trials over the past week or so.  Not more stress than I can handle, but more stress dealing with The Boy’s schooling than I’ve had to deal with since he was in preschool.  I’m not sure I handled every day and every communication in the best way possible, but I try to remain respectful, even when I am pretty sure the person with whom I’m conversing wouldn’t know an autistic trait if it hit them in the face.  I don’t mind being the pain-in-the-ass mom who emails daily, because I wouldn’t have to if my son had more verbal communication skills, but he doesn’t.  And if school personnel are not going to offer information, I obviously have to ask for it, respectfully.

I posted the other day on my personal facebook page: “Seriously. Between dealing with the ex and (The Boy’s) school this week, my big-ass Mama Bear is showing – watch out!!”  In my world, “Mama Bear” is this walking-a-fine-line-between-angry-and-composed-mother side of me that rises up, out of protection of The Boy when someone or something is repeatedly threatening his happiness and well-being.

Mama Bear does not come out when someone looks at me funny.

Mama Bear does not come out when the teacher “forgets” to tell me that The Boy left his classroom without permission twice in one day.

Mama Bear does not come out when the ex forgets to call, again.

Because I am not Mama Bear.  And Mama Bear is less effective if it is the face you wear with the people you deal with on a daily basis.  If you ARE Mama Bear, you are being written off as crazy, I guarantee it.  “That crazy mom emailed me again, today…”  “Crazy Mom is in the main office, watch out!”  “Take everything That Crazy Mom says with a grain of salt…”

I follow another autism mom blogger’s facebook page, and she posted about her son’s first day riding the bus today.  A little later, there had apparently been a snafu, because her son had been found “wandering the halls”.  She said she was livid, and the great majority of the commenters were calling “Off with their heads!”  I would never take a situation like this lightly, but I put in my two cents, calling for calm, pointing out that everyone makes mistakes, and got called out for my response by another commenter: “Things should NEVER go wrong with our children.”

Listen, people will make mistakes with our kidsI make mistakes with my kid!  That’s how I learn, that’s how he learns.  Yes, it’s scary when a little one is wandering the halls of school, not knowing where to go because someone screwed up the procedure for drop-off.  And a phone call and/or even a meeting would be in order here to straighten out the situation ASAP.  But do you think that little one might be less scared in a similar situation later on because it has already happened to him and everything turned out OK?  If this happened two or three times, why yes, I would be livid.  But living your life in a constant mode of battle-readiness, expecting perfection from school staff, and wearing that Mama Bear mask whenever you come across someone who looks at you the wrong way is no way to live, and it’s not a good model for our kids.

Why I Love Field Day

Most teachers aren’t very fond of field day.  In fact, in my district it was even the source of a fierce battle about prep time awhile back.  But I love it.  At least I love it when my kid has it.

His field day was last week.  I think he even chose a special “athletic-themed” outfit for that day, choosing to wear his T-shirt from the special needs baseball camp he has been to the past two summers.  It doesn’t hurt that he loves his gym teacher, and wants to be one when he grows up.

His school gives each kid a long ticket-type thing that lists the various activities, that get punched as they visit the stations, and they can also be recognized on the ticket for showing good sportsmanship (or having an “oops!” moment, but The Boy has never earned an “oops!” he is proud to tell me).

field day '13

Here’s why I love it so much: I often have no clue about what happens at school, because he just chooses not to tell me (thank goodness his ASD teacher sends home a daily communication log to let me know about highlights, or I’d be completely in the dark!).  But on field day, we have a nice long conversation. When I pick The Boy up from Kids Club, and with the ticket in hand, I ask him about each one with a punch next to it.  I ask him to explain how it works, and whether or not he liked it (he always likes them all).  And he does tell me — at length!  I have a guide that tells me what to ask him about his day, and I do, and he responds.  That’s a big thing for us.   And I enjoy it a great deal.

I Hate that Sound…

frustration

frustration by Sean MacEntee

One of the worst sounds to my ears is the sound of The Boy expressing frustration.  Partly because, if left unchecked, it could lead to a meltdown, or perseveration on some negative thing.  But mostly because he is 11, and I have tried and tried for years to teach him to ask for help when he gets frustrated, and instead he continues to do this thing…  This “ARGGHHHH!” thing, to which I think I am supposed to come running and solve his problem.  Or the extremely loud self-talk that sometimes accompanies it (but which I can’t understand, because it is often coming from the basement).  I don’t ever respond, except to say, “Do you need help?”  I rarely get a response, just more “ARGGGGHHHH!” and indistinguishable self-talk.  Beyond that question, I do not respond, knowing that if I do, he will learn that I will try to anticipate his every need, and instead, I want him to learn to communicate his needs and ask for help, even when frustrated.

And so, I will wait him out, turning on some music to drown out the “ARGGGGGHHHH!” until he comes to me of his own accord, or gets interested in something else.

But that noise is just about the worst…

The Ex and his Control Issues

English: Cell phone icon

At least, that’s one theory about what’s going on (or not going on, as the case may be).

I texted the ex: “We need to talk about Christmas so that we are on the same page”.  He responded, “Sounds good.  I will call Friday night around 7 if that’s ok”.  I replied, “We’re going to the movies for Fun Friday… How about 8?”  His response, “That will work.  Talk to ya then.”

Sounds like a pretty cordial conversation, right?  The most cordial we’ve had all year, in fact.  The outcome?  No call around 8pm.  In fact, he didn’t call until over an hour later, and I didn’t answer.  I was already on the phone, and even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have responded.  Am I playing games?  No.  I am showing him that my time is valuable, and when we make an agreement, he needs to stick to it.  Just like if I let him swear at me, and continue talking to him, that communicates to him that it’s OK to swear at me.  If I answer the phone when he calls an hour late, that communicates to him that it’s just fine for him to do that, and it’s not.  I’m not trying to control his behavior, but I am trying to get him to be respectful in his dealings with me.

He left a voicemail saying, “Sorry for not calling right at 8, I got busy.  I’ll try giving you another call tomorrow.”

He never called back.  We’ll keep trying, I suppose.