I'm short on fuses and short on posts this week. I guess you could say I'm feeling a bit defeated. I'm tired. It's been a loooooong two weeks. First we had the monumental "No D.S." conversation. Then I had my classic second guessing of said conversation. Then we had our big SST at school. Standing for Student Success Team, the Vice Principal, Rex, Stink's teacher and myself all gathered together to discuss Stink's academic career. (If only I'd have a trifecta gathered to discuss my career I'd be a millionaire, but I digress...) After the obligatory "Stink is so kind" and "He's such an out of the box thinker" I was slammed with the whole "Let's get the whole I.E.P. process started." Standing for Individual Education Plan, this means Stink will get some more one-on-one attention in regards to his focus issues. What kind of attention? What does this mean? Oh, no worries. I had another meeting two days later with someone from our local university who is an expert on I.E.P.'s. She gave me a book about a million pages long which states all my rights as a parent and about one thousand free resources we can target to support Stink. Of course, there is no point in going crazy with intake appointments for educational art therapy classes or one-on-one counseling since our big UCLA appointment with a T.S. specialist is in two weeks. Why not just see what the Big Doc says first? Which sounds awesome. But meanwhile, the I.E.P. paperwork still has to get done. I had to send the school secretary a letter stating "My son might have a learning disability and I'd like to get him evaluated for an I.E.P." I had two issues with this letter and its verbiage: 1. Referring to my super smart kid as having a potential "learning disability" was a hard pill to swallow. Granted, having focus issues perhaps is just the stem on some very deep roots of other issues that have not yet been diagnosed like "auditory perception" problems or "A.D.H.D." or maybe even some kind of on the spectrum deal that I hadn't ever thought of up to this point. 2. My other problem with sending this letter is that, well, it's really admitting that there's a problem. Oh, sure, I write this blog. I am writing my book on T.S.. But honestly, I thought I nailed this whole T.S. thing. I thought my diet and good parenting and love and support were enough. And, well, it isn't. And while in my head I know that whatever is going on with Stink we are on top of it early, in my heart it feels like failure. I couldn't cure this. I couldn't fix T.S. or any other of my son's life challenges. To this last statement, I'm quite certain that God is smiling down at his flailing daughter. He's likely sending his love and support and heavenly embraces. And if He were to appear in my morning cup of Yuban and respond to my inability to fix my kids' T.S. and accompanying focus issues, he'd respond with a resounding, "Duh." That's all I have for today. * Photo of Stink pulling his sister and their friend up a hill, without snow, in Big Bear. A lot of work for an uncertain reward, but they ended up having a blast. I should take note. CommentsJoy 10/19/2011 15:34
How I wish I could say something that would help you as much as you've helped me. "My" new mantra (if you can't fix the tics, fix yourself) is working amazingly well. I used to try to give my son a reminder (ie: an elbow in the ribs) not to blink or whatever when we were out, now I just ignore it -- and anyone else who's ignorant enough to have an issue with it.
Reply
10/19/2011 19:55
@Joy - Your comment alone makes me feel like what I'm doing is worthwhile. I'm not completely in a hole - just a bit overwhelmed. I'll make it! Thanks for understanding. Andrea
Reply
Leave a Reply | TICKED OFF: TOURETTES TALK
I write weekly for the New Jersey Center for Tourette Syndrome blog. Come visit me, and other awesome parents, for some daily support!
ArchivesJanuary 2012 CategoriesAll |

RSS Feed