So bad. Oh, no words too describe how bad. Five year-old girl in line for school pictures, distraught because her aides are trying to convince her to take off her headphones for the school picture (by my request, by the way). She is crying, anxious, refusing to even open her eyes for the photographer. After many tries, he finally gets one with he eyes open, red and weepy. Big tears on her cheeks. She did manage a "smile", which looks an awful lot like the grimaces I made while in labor with her.
We are not doing a retake. Screw it. Hopefully someday, at her College graduation or her wedding, I will pull it out so we can laugh. This will take some perspective only time can provide.
And no, will not be posting it.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
TOPS Soccer Comes to the East Side...
...and my kids were poops about it.
We went last week, and the kids did great. It was a small showing, just the coach and 5 kids kicking the ball around the Ferwood gym and having a good time. We spread the word around to friends and classmates, and the showing this weeks was a dramatic increase in kids and even a dozen Grant HS kids to help with out. The balls were flying, the teens were drawing out the shy guys and kicking the balls, it was fantastic.
Isaac kicked around the ball at first with a cute Grant Girl, then sat down and refused to move. She sat next to him and he finally told her that he was "too tired". Instead of demanding that he get up off the floor, I tried a different tactic. "OK. You're tired. That's OK. But if you are this tired at 5pm, then after soccer we need to get you home, feed you something quickly, and send you to bed to get some rest. OK? You get to decide. If you get back up and try to participate, we can still go get hamburgers after and you can have 20 minutes on the computer game".
It took him awhile to get back up. I asked Isaac to be the goalie while I tried to kick the ball at him. Finally, movement.
Olivia was worse. We are talking fingers firmly plugged in her ears, not talking, and LYING on the gym floor while balls flew around her. Her friend from last week, Wren, came over and tried to draw her out, and her best friend Mia did the same.
Nada.
We tried everything (I did not bring her headphones, since she hadn't needed them at last weeks soccer practice), to lure her out of her turtle shell. Nothing, although at one point she did giggle and tried to catch the ball with her elbows, not willing to unplug her ears. Poor Wren and Mia were so disappointed, and I kept telling them to please not take it personally. She is just really (pathologically) shy. Finally, I placed her next to Isaac and tried to get her to be goalie too. Isaac played goalie, O just lay down behind him. She started laughing at our silliness eventually, and Wren and Mia joined out little game, but still. When both kids left the building and started piling into the car, both kids emerged from their goo and were laughing and playing.
What is going on? Isaac has never been this shy before, and Olivia is prone to this, but how do I manage it? I think we need professional help again. I don't want them to miss out on their own childhood, burdened by all of this anxiety. And I feel so anxious for them, I worry they can somehow sense it!
As we drove home I praised them for trying and told them we need to come up with a clear game plan for next week, because there will be a next week. And I want them to help me figure a way to make it better for them. We got home, and Isaac had his computer time, and Olivia was allowed to watch and episode of Word Girl.
Then I had a glass of wine.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Wandering Out into the Typical World
Isaac is 9. He is changing, more independent, more apt to challenge his mom and dad in the small ways of 9 year olds (I don't eat to do this, I don't want to eat this), and wait timidly to see how we respond to this defiance. We are semi-strict at best, so are trying out different responses. With the new expansion of his sense of self has come new fears, and suddenly Isaac, who has never really felt shy about doing new things, is almost crippled by anxiety.
For example, we have (re)-joined the Cub Scouts. We tried this in 1st grade and participated for about 10 months before we basically got bored and let it drop. We joined a new pack and are finding it a far more active and social group. At the first pack meeting, where Isaac was receiving his first badge, Isaac shut down in a way I have not seen before. He put his head down, lowered his shoulders, and put his hands up as blinders to block out the two kids sitting next to him. He mumbled responses, and refused to make eye contact even with me (eye contact has never been a problem with Isaac, at least not for the last few years). It was physically painful for me to watch, and confused the other boys.
All I could think to do was whisper to him , "Never hang your head. Always keep your chin up. The only way to get over your fear is to look it in the eye."
I don't know how helpful this was. After about 30 minutes, he finally got up and started to participate though. He was so brave. I can't imagine how hard that was for him, but I have a new appreciation, having witnessed this.
Since this meeting, there have been two other new experiences that Isaac has resisted heavily, but he has done each one, mainly because I forced him. Is this the right thing to do? One was a soccer class, one a school party. Afterwards, he told me both times that "you were right mom, it was fun", but was he just putting on a brave face? Is the stress of these social interactions more damaging then the benefits?
For example, we have (re)-joined the Cub Scouts. We tried this in 1st grade and participated for about 10 months before we basically got bored and let it drop. We joined a new pack and are finding it a far more active and social group. At the first pack meeting, where Isaac was receiving his first badge, Isaac shut down in a way I have not seen before. He put his head down, lowered his shoulders, and put his hands up as blinders to block out the two kids sitting next to him. He mumbled responses, and refused to make eye contact even with me (eye contact has never been a problem with Isaac, at least not for the last few years). It was physically painful for me to watch, and confused the other boys.
All I could think to do was whisper to him , "Never hang your head. Always keep your chin up. The only way to get over your fear is to look it in the eye."
I don't know how helpful this was. After about 30 minutes, he finally got up and started to participate though. He was so brave. I can't imagine how hard that was for him, but I have a new appreciation, having witnessed this.
Since this meeting, there have been two other new experiences that Isaac has resisted heavily, but he has done each one, mainly because I forced him. Is this the right thing to do? One was a soccer class, one a school party. Afterwards, he told me both times that "you were right mom, it was fun", but was he just putting on a brave face? Is the stress of these social interactions more damaging then the benefits?
Thursday, October 20, 2011
The Attack on the Mouse
So we did Disneyland. 5 straight days of over-stimulating-sensory-slamming-crowd-pushing-chaos. Not an easy feat with NT kids, intimidating with two kids dealing with a variety of anxiety issues. It was exhausting.
It was awesome.
We had planned the hell of this trip, evenings spent with the kids pouring over guide books, looking at YouTube uploads of the park and hotel, discussing game plans and park maps, going on for nearly a year. Was it all worth it? I will say yes since it was a great trip. Was all of that planning necessary? Probably not, they were so happy and distracted by everything all around them there was little in they way of anxiety or meltdowns (none, in fact). And every night at the Disney Hotel was a blank slate of dreamless sleep, the sleep of the truly exhausted.
In fact, I am still exhausted, unable to pull even a real post together. Sorry folks.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Week Two @ Alameda Continued
Something is changing for Olivia , and she seems more at ease going to school the last 2 days. At ease or resigned? So hard to tell. No tears, and she has established a morning routine with one of the para-aides, which is starting the day at a desk in the hallway until the final bell has sounded and her classmates have settled in for the day. They also have structured in a few social "breaks" for her, where she can leave the class with the aides to do things such as deliver things to the front office or the other CB class. And at recess she is allowed to sit on her own with one of the aides but only if she is willing to participate more during the learning stations. She is eating more at lunch, and every day she engages a bit more with teachers and peers. At pick up, she is holding a peers hand coming down the hall instead of clinging to an aide, and has actually smiled when seeing me again.
The difference is that the staff have managed to find a routine that is starting to work. They are being flexible, and encouraging her to be. That was missing in mainstream for Isaac, and from what a few parents have been telling me, is missing in some other CB classrooms. So I am feeling lucky and still holding my breath. It is still early.
The difference is that the staff have managed to find a routine that is starting to work. They are being flexible, and encouraging her to be. That was missing in mainstream for Isaac, and from what a few parents have been telling me, is missing in some other CB classrooms. So I am feeling lucky and still holding my breath. It is still early.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Week Two @ Alameda : Are We Having Fun Yet?
Oh, Mini-Peanut. Oh boy. Do I wish I could make you feel better.
The second week of Kindie is rough. She wakes up sad, I struggle to get breakfast in her, she walks limply from the car to her school, and as we approach the school, insists that her ear coves go on to "make the sound go away"' and as we get closer to her room, she whimpers and then cries.
Ugh.
When I pick her up, Mrs. McCormick says each day is better, she participates a little more at their academic stations, and even wrote her name and named her letters yesterday. But when she comes out at 3:00pm she seems heavy with sadness, ear covers still on, not even perking up when she sees me, and with her eyes all wonky and crossed from strain (she needs her glasses full time now). She won't speak until we are clear of the school, and then immediately she smiles and sings songs.
Holy sh*t.
So here is the stress list I run through daily:
1. She needs time to adjust
2. She's heading towards a panic attack ala Isaac in Mrs. Raddick's class
3. She needs to learn independence
4. Her anxiety has her clouded in a fog all day
5. Kindie is a must, and she is in the best possible class and program
6. Can she even learn when she is like this
7. At some point she needs to join the typical world, and in that world, you go to school with all of the noises, lessons, and challenges that
come with it
I am giving it a month to see improvements in her demeanor. Then we will address her time in the classroom, and decide if we need to go part time. If that does not help, then maybe we need another year to mature.
The second week of Kindie is rough. She wakes up sad, I struggle to get breakfast in her, she walks limply from the car to her school, and as we approach the school, insists that her ear coves go on to "make the sound go away"' and as we get closer to her room, she whimpers and then cries.
Ugh.
When I pick her up, Mrs. McCormick says each day is better, she participates a little more at their academic stations, and even wrote her name and named her letters yesterday. But when she comes out at 3:00pm she seems heavy with sadness, ear covers still on, not even perking up when she sees me, and with her eyes all wonky and crossed from strain (she needs her glasses full time now). She won't speak until we are clear of the school, and then immediately she smiles and sings songs.
Holy sh*t.
So here is the stress list I run through daily:
1. She needs time to adjust
2. She's heading towards a panic attack ala Isaac in Mrs. Raddick's class
3. She needs to learn independence
4. Her anxiety has her clouded in a fog all day
5. Kindie is a must, and she is in the best possible class and program
6. Can she even learn when she is like this
7. At some point she needs to join the typical world, and in that world, you go to school with all of the noises, lessons, and challenges that
come with it
I am giving it a month to see improvements in her demeanor. Then we will address her time in the classroom, and decide if we need to go part time. If that does not help, then maybe we need another year to mature.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
First Hiccup of Many! CB Program @ Boise Eloit
I forgot to post this earlier this month, but I think it is worth doing, just to show how the best laid plans are just that - plans. Also, to highlight something most of you know - SPED is a moving target, and nothing is written in stone (even that IEP you worked so hard on a few months ago).
Back in the spring, there were the exhausting collection of meetings regarding Olivia's entry into Kindie. The IEP was signed off on, and her placement was confirmed by not one but 4 people on the SPED team. CB Academic K-2 with increasing time in the mainstream class, at Alameda, next door to her big brother in the CB 3-5 class. It was obvious, easy, and agreed upon all they way up to Mary Pearson.
Then in early August I received the letter from SPED confirming Olivia's placement.
At Boise-Eliot.
This did not surprise me too much. We received a letter last summer confirming Isaac's entry into the CB program at Roseway Heights which is not l only in another cluster, but is also the class (with same teacher) where just a year prior he had the joy of two police involved incidents, an EMT was called, and an expulsion hearing was called on the then 1st grader. It had been agreed on that he would attend a CB program at the MUCH closer Alameda prior to this, so you can imagine how I reacted to THAT letter. A quick call to Mary assured me that Roseway was an accident and of course he was still heading to Alameda.
Olivia's letter was handled better by me. I did not melt down when I saw it and assumed that yet again, there was a miscommunication. I made the required phone call to discuss, and found myself arguing with an unknown woman about why my daughter should be at Alameda. I know I could have called Mary or Colleen Forbes to bypass this argument, but I was curious to see how this was handled by the placement department in general. So I told her the was a mistake.
"Oh no, it's not a mistake. Olivia is in the Boise Eliot CB class."
Her IEP meeting minutes clearly states she is at Alameda. It's been signed off on.
"Boise Eliot has just started a CB K-2. And Alameda is full."
Yes. With Olivia.
This was annoying me now. So I mentioned Isaac being at Alameda already.
"I am sure he will be transferred as well to Boise Eliot."
It's a K-2. He's in 3rd grade.
"Oh. I don't see him on the Alameda list."
Look again.
"found him. It's not noted that they are related."
Are there that many Sanchez-Bishops in PPS?
"Well, we have her going to Boise Eliot."
That was her argument. Her list was correct, Olivia's IEP and the fact her brother was in the same program at another school that was actually in our cluster was not. Yes, I know at this point, I should have gone over her head. But now I was irritated and itching to make my point.
So let me get his: you expect me to send my kids to the SAME program at DIFFERENT schools that just so happen to start and end at the same time. There is no way to put her brother at Boise Eliot since it is K-2 since he is a third grader. And that school is not in our cluster. And her placement has already been confirmed.
Silence on the other line. Followed by this oldie but goodie.
"Alameda already has 15 kids in it. Boise is a new program, and is not as full."
This is how we ended up at Roseway Heights. Alameda is full, Roseway has a much better ratio. Within 3 months Roseway was bursting and the ratio was crap. She was supposed to be one of the 15, put her back in Alameda.
"OK. If you are sure."
Yes, dammit.
"She's back on the list for Alameda, then."
Heart pounding, amped in that nasty mama-bear way. I hate being THAT parent, I really do. But PPS corners parents in this way. What do they expect? These last minute changes are too hard on families, not knowing who your teacher is going to be is hard on kids sensitive to transitions, we work hard on the IEPs and placements, and then 3 weeks before the school year everything goes haywire. And then they wonder why we call emergency meetings and rant away.
Back in the spring, there were the exhausting collection of meetings regarding Olivia's entry into Kindie. The IEP was signed off on, and her placement was confirmed by not one but 4 people on the SPED team. CB Academic K-2 with increasing time in the mainstream class, at Alameda, next door to her big brother in the CB 3-5 class. It was obvious, easy, and agreed upon all they way up to Mary Pearson.
Then in early August I received the letter from SPED confirming Olivia's placement.
At Boise-Eliot.
This did not surprise me too much. We received a letter last summer confirming Isaac's entry into the CB program at Roseway Heights which is not l only in another cluster, but is also the class (with same teacher) where just a year prior he had the joy of two police involved incidents, an EMT was called, and an expulsion hearing was called on the then 1st grader. It had been agreed on that he would attend a CB program at the MUCH closer Alameda prior to this, so you can imagine how I reacted to THAT letter. A quick call to Mary assured me that Roseway was an accident and of course he was still heading to Alameda.
Olivia's letter was handled better by me. I did not melt down when I saw it and assumed that yet again, there was a miscommunication. I made the required phone call to discuss, and found myself arguing with an unknown woman about why my daughter should be at Alameda. I know I could have called Mary or Colleen Forbes to bypass this argument, but I was curious to see how this was handled by the placement department in general. So I told her the was a mistake.
"Oh no, it's not a mistake. Olivia is in the Boise Eliot CB class."
Her IEP meeting minutes clearly states she is at Alameda. It's been signed off on.
"Boise Eliot has just started a CB K-2. And Alameda is full."
Yes. With Olivia.
This was annoying me now. So I mentioned Isaac being at Alameda already.
"I am sure he will be transferred as well to Boise Eliot."
It's a K-2. He's in 3rd grade.
"Oh. I don't see him on the Alameda list."
Look again.
"found him. It's not noted that they are related."
Are there that many Sanchez-Bishops in PPS?
"Well, we have her going to Boise Eliot."
That was her argument. Her list was correct, Olivia's IEP and the fact her brother was in the same program at another school that was actually in our cluster was not. Yes, I know at this point, I should have gone over her head. But now I was irritated and itching to make my point.
So let me get his: you expect me to send my kids to the SAME program at DIFFERENT schools that just so happen to start and end at the same time. There is no way to put her brother at Boise Eliot since it is K-2 since he is a third grader. And that school is not in our cluster. And her placement has already been confirmed.
Silence on the other line. Followed by this oldie but goodie.
"Alameda already has 15 kids in it. Boise is a new program, and is not as full."
This is how we ended up at Roseway Heights. Alameda is full, Roseway has a much better ratio. Within 3 months Roseway was bursting and the ratio was crap. She was supposed to be one of the 15, put her back in Alameda.
"OK. If you are sure."
Yes, dammit.
"She's back on the list for Alameda, then."
Heart pounding, amped in that nasty mama-bear way. I hate being THAT parent, I really do. But PPS corners parents in this way. What do they expect? These last minute changes are too hard on families, not knowing who your teacher is going to be is hard on kids sensitive to transitions, we work hard on the IEPs and placements, and then 3 weeks before the school year everything goes haywire. And then they wonder why we call emergency meetings and rant away.
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