Have you ever looked at tire marks on the road and wondered how they got there?
I drive my daughter to school every morning and there were some new tire tracks left on the highway. They were elaborate twists and turns, not the straight lines that occur when a member of the animal kingdom leaps out in front of a vehicle and the driver applies the brakes as fast as possible with ALL of their feet. No, these resembled the lines left by an ice skater on a freshly Zambonied rink. Delicate marks that elicit visions of an artist moving in sync with the wind and wildlife accompanied by orchestral music. At least that's where my thoughts took me.
I envisioned a person driving blissfully along highway 41 and, seemingly without care, grabbing their emergency brake and leaving their mark. When that didn't work, they did it again and again and again. Creating black chem trails- Idaho style. The reality most likely isn't that far off my description. Instead of a car or truck, the offender is usually an ATV and it's driver someone underage, under the influence, or both. But that isn't as fun as imagining some glorious Tokyo drift scenario on a rural Idaho highway, is it?
So that led my thoughts to imagination versus pragmatism. I have had the opportunity to substitute teach in our local school district. Yup. That one. I know. I know. I've ranted and raved about this district. I got a chance to get a job and I took it. So sue me. Wait. Don't. We got a whole lotta nothin' you want, I promise.
Anyway...
One of the classrooms I worked in had a burn in the carpet that was obviously a hot plate. The spiral pattern from the element was clear. I had a chance to ask those students to use their imaginations and create a story about that mark. We brainstormed over what that mark could mean. They gave me answers that ranged from a whirlpool to snakes. It was awesome. Some of them struggled with trying to think outside of the reality that it was just a hot plate burn, but I believe that given a little more time, they all would have been onboard.
As an adult with a very wacktastic life, a little imagination goes a long way. I needed that reminder this morning and I'm here to remind you to allow some imagination to invade your life today.
Tuesday, June 5, 2018
Sunday, April 1, 2018
When darkness envelops
March 17, 2017
So it is mud and flood season here on the ranch. We've had an overly-zealous winter this year and with the increase in temperatures, water is everywhere! I am thankful that our house and outbuildings have, thus far, been spared. The driveway...not so much.
I felt like writing tonight because I slipped back into my old self for a bit and then ran screaming from her. Ok, I didn't really run. I'm darned near 50, there isn't a lot of run left in me. *insert winky emoji here*
I am supposed to be attending a women's retreat being hosted by a local church. I used to love to attend the Women of Faith conferences, so I was looking forward to tonight. I miss the fellowship and sharing God's love and compassion, but I haven't set foot in a church in a long time. My anxiety simply got the best of me and I was really a b&^%$ all day. I stopped at McDonalds near the venue and ran into a problem with the change I was given. What really really bothered me is that the manager was going to give me more money and "trust me, this time." Boy that pissed me off.
Trust me??? I didn't want him to trust me. I wanted him to take my name and count the till. That is what you do. What's more is that the "change" he was going to give me wasn't right at all! I would have driven away with more money than I would've paid in the first place. Ay yi yi! How hard is it to count change? So, the manager had me pull ahead and wait for him to count the till. Now, if I was right, the till should have been off $5.01. $.01 if not. He walks out to my car and informs me that the till was off $.55. His explanation? Well, people make mistakes throughout the day and to wait until later might not show the correct amount. OK. Deep breath.
I worked for McDonald's 20 years ago as a manager. I had my share of customers questioning their change. People do make mistakes and as a manager, it was my job to get to the bottom of it and smooth it over with the customer. Unfortunately for me, that didn't happen. He wasn't terribly rude, but when he walked out to my car to tell me that the till didn't show the extra money, he didn't even have that penny! COME ON!
So, I opted for some retail therapy instead of the women's retreat. Walking through Target always lifts my spirits. Checking out every clearance endcap is like a great treasure hunt for me. Tonight that saunter through the store reminded me of the days when I didn't have a husband or kids and I felt alone.
Lonely is something that I still feel on a regular basis, but tonight I felt alone. It wasn't quite despair, but I could slip into the...
April 1, 2018
I have't been back to this since I started that post. I am here again. Darkness, aloneness, and I am now even more aware of how little I really matter to those around me. My friends and co-workers (I have a job now) appreciate me as much as is proper and expected.
I get daily phone calls from my mother. Yesterday, I was supposed to take the truck into Spokane and load up a bed from the home of one of her friends. I woke up with a migraine yesterday. I asked if she would ask my brother to go up and load the bed into their truck and when I felt better, I would come in and get the truck. She refused to call my brother because it was 8 o'clock in the morning. She calls me regularly at 6:20am, whether I am awake or not.
That made me even more aware of just how much she views me as a burden. The same burden she admitted to 21 years ago. I have been, and most likely always will be, the project. I am reminded on a regular basis how awful I am as a mother and a wife and a daughter. I'm pretty sure she had hoped that I would never marry and have kids and that I would just go away when I became an adult. I tried that 21 years ago.
Then I met my husband and my INSANE need to please her kicked in and I subjected myself to all of it again. I needed her, as well as my sister's, approval.
I got engaged, set the wedding date, and got pregnant. Disappointment strikes again! Can't even do that right. Oh and it was just icing on the cake that I lived in a 5th wheel and then a single wide trailer. Ok. That's enough of that. Long story short, as long as I live, I will never measure up.
So it is mud and flood season here on the ranch. We've had an overly-zealous winter this year and with the increase in temperatures, water is everywhere! I am thankful that our house and outbuildings have, thus far, been spared. The driveway...not so much.
I felt like writing tonight because I slipped back into my old self for a bit and then ran screaming from her. Ok, I didn't really run. I'm darned near 50, there isn't a lot of run left in me. *insert winky emoji here*
I am supposed to be attending a women's retreat being hosted by a local church. I used to love to attend the Women of Faith conferences, so I was looking forward to tonight. I miss the fellowship and sharing God's love and compassion, but I haven't set foot in a church in a long time. My anxiety simply got the best of me and I was really a b&^%$ all day. I stopped at McDonalds near the venue and ran into a problem with the change I was given. What really really bothered me is that the manager was going to give me more money and "trust me, this time." Boy that pissed me off.
Trust me??? I didn't want him to trust me. I wanted him to take my name and count the till. That is what you do. What's more is that the "change" he was going to give me wasn't right at all! I would have driven away with more money than I would've paid in the first place. Ay yi yi! How hard is it to count change? So, the manager had me pull ahead and wait for him to count the till. Now, if I was right, the till should have been off $5.01. $.01 if not. He walks out to my car and informs me that the till was off $.55. His explanation? Well, people make mistakes throughout the day and to wait until later might not show the correct amount. OK. Deep breath.
I worked for McDonald's 20 years ago as a manager. I had my share of customers questioning their change. People do make mistakes and as a manager, it was my job to get to the bottom of it and smooth it over with the customer. Unfortunately for me, that didn't happen. He wasn't terribly rude, but when he walked out to my car to tell me that the till didn't show the extra money, he didn't even have that penny! COME ON!
So, I opted for some retail therapy instead of the women's retreat. Walking through Target always lifts my spirits. Checking out every clearance endcap is like a great treasure hunt for me. Tonight that saunter through the store reminded me of the days when I didn't have a husband or kids and I felt alone.
Lonely is something that I still feel on a regular basis, but tonight I felt alone. It wasn't quite despair, but I could slip into the...
April 1, 2018
I have't been back to this since I started that post. I am here again. Darkness, aloneness, and I am now even more aware of how little I really matter to those around me. My friends and co-workers (I have a job now) appreciate me as much as is proper and expected.
I get daily phone calls from my mother. Yesterday, I was supposed to take the truck into Spokane and load up a bed from the home of one of her friends. I woke up with a migraine yesterday. I asked if she would ask my brother to go up and load the bed into their truck and when I felt better, I would come in and get the truck. She refused to call my brother because it was 8 o'clock in the morning. She calls me regularly at 6:20am, whether I am awake or not.
That made me even more aware of just how much she views me as a burden. The same burden she admitted to 21 years ago. I have been, and most likely always will be, the project. I am reminded on a regular basis how awful I am as a mother and a wife and a daughter. I'm pretty sure she had hoped that I would never marry and have kids and that I would just go away when I became an adult. I tried that 21 years ago.
Then I met my husband and my INSANE need to please her kicked in and I subjected myself to all of it again. I needed her, as well as my sister's, approval.
I got engaged, set the wedding date, and got pregnant. Disappointment strikes again! Can't even do that right. Oh and it was just icing on the cake that I lived in a 5th wheel and then a single wide trailer. Ok. That's enough of that. Long story short, as long as I live, I will never measure up.
Monday, June 20, 2016
Where have you been?
Where have you been
I've looked for you forever and a day
Where have you been
I'm just not myself when you're away...
Long time, no? Just like that song, I am feeling very much my age lately. My children are almost grown, but not yet capable of being independent. We've started a ranch out here on Elk Meadows and I am finding muscles I didn't realize I had. That includes the mental muscles as well. Yet, life goes on.
I wanted to write today. I have a lot to share, but it is hard to focus on just one thing. How do I decide? Flip a coin? Wait a bit and just write about the next thing that pisses me off? Wait a bit and write about the next thing that delights me? Truth is, if I wait I won't get anything written. My life is a walking case of ADHD.
Housework. THAT is truly a loaded subject around here. I am not great at it, but I want a clean house. I've tried FlyLady, but I never seem to get past dressing to the shoes. I live for the organizing shows on TV. I watch 'em and then get all these great ideas to "fix" the house. Never seem to get past the planning stage. When I do it's wrecked in 3 minutes tops. There are 5 of us living here. The hubby works out of town a lot of the time, but when he is home, he is just as guilty. Our oldest sleeps on the couch, so the living room has become something of her bedroom. Oh, yeah. Our oldest, Rodney, is now Rose. She is a transgendered girl. She is still on the autistic spectrum, so although she will be an adult soon, she is developmentally delayed. So, her sleeping arrangements are a long story (maybe for another entry.)
How do you teach someone to understand what clean really is? That has been difficult for me. Rose and our youngest, Becky, both have hoarding tendencies. They struggle with throwing away ANYTHING, including garbage. Coupled with my own irrational anxiety, I have been behind that proverbial eight ball. I'm in counseling and it is helping. However, there are still times where I look at the shelf in the laundry room that is full of "stuff" and wonder WTF. Maybe I don't have a grasp on what I truly consider clean? Could that be possible? I dunno?
So, that's all I've got for today. Maybe I'll be back tomorrow or next month or 2020. Who knows?
And so goes Life on Elk Meadows...
I've looked for you forever and a day
Where have you been
I'm just not myself when you're away...
Long time, no? Just like that song, I am feeling very much my age lately. My children are almost grown, but not yet capable of being independent. We've started a ranch out here on Elk Meadows and I am finding muscles I didn't realize I had. That includes the mental muscles as well. Yet, life goes on.
I wanted to write today. I have a lot to share, but it is hard to focus on just one thing. How do I decide? Flip a coin? Wait a bit and just write about the next thing that pisses me off? Wait a bit and write about the next thing that delights me? Truth is, if I wait I won't get anything written. My life is a walking case of ADHD.
Housework. THAT is truly a loaded subject around here. I am not great at it, but I want a clean house. I've tried FlyLady, but I never seem to get past dressing to the shoes. I live for the organizing shows on TV. I watch 'em and then get all these great ideas to "fix" the house. Never seem to get past the planning stage. When I do it's wrecked in 3 minutes tops. There are 5 of us living here. The hubby works out of town a lot of the time, but when he is home, he is just as guilty. Our oldest sleeps on the couch, so the living room has become something of her bedroom. Oh, yeah. Our oldest, Rodney, is now Rose. She is a transgendered girl. She is still on the autistic spectrum, so although she will be an adult soon, she is developmentally delayed. So, her sleeping arrangements are a long story (maybe for another entry.)
How do you teach someone to understand what clean really is? That has been difficult for me. Rose and our youngest, Becky, both have hoarding tendencies. They struggle with throwing away ANYTHING, including garbage. Coupled with my own irrational anxiety, I have been behind that proverbial eight ball. I'm in counseling and it is helping. However, there are still times where I look at the shelf in the laundry room that is full of "stuff" and wonder WTF. Maybe I don't have a grasp on what I truly consider clean? Could that be possible? I dunno?
So, that's all I've got for today. Maybe I'll be back tomorrow or next month or 2020. Who knows?
And so goes Life on Elk Meadows...
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Autism Awareness Day
Today is April 2nd. It's international Autism Awareness Day and in our house, that means something. We live every day with autism. The meltdowns, the concrete thinking, and the brilliance twists my view of the world. My younger kids (unfortunately) have to deal with the fallout of that.
I am learning how to set boundaries and holding the kids to them. As a family, we are becoming more organized and more structured. I can happily report that I took the electronics away from the two younger children when they refused to keep up with their chores and clean their rooms. IT WORKED! I am beyond happy about that, I tell you what!
My last blog entry was rant. What I didn't tell you is that I wrote that the day after I lost my brother to colon cancer. It was easier to rant than to face that loss. You see, my brother was a school counselor and a doctor. He was my ally in the autistic world I lived in. He was my encyclopedia. I knew that he would help our mother understand that I wasn't a poor mother and that I wasn't doing such a bad job. When she had a question about Rodney, she called my brother first. And now she can't.
I know more about Asperger's Syndrome than I did just last year and I learn more every day. Today, I watch my 14 year old fight in imaginary wars outside with a nerf sword and a stick. I wonder if he will ever really 'act his age.' I wonder if he will ever find his place in this world.
I am learning how to set boundaries and holding the kids to them. As a family, we are becoming more organized and more structured. I can happily report that I took the electronics away from the two younger children when they refused to keep up with their chores and clean their rooms. IT WORKED! I am beyond happy about that, I tell you what!
My last blog entry was rant. What I didn't tell you is that I wrote that the day after I lost my brother to colon cancer. It was easier to rant than to face that loss. You see, my brother was a school counselor and a doctor. He was my ally in the autistic world I lived in. He was my encyclopedia. I knew that he would help our mother understand that I wasn't a poor mother and that I wasn't doing such a bad job. When she had a question about Rodney, she called my brother first. And now she can't.
I know more about Asperger's Syndrome than I did just last year and I learn more every day. Today, I watch my 14 year old fight in imaginary wars outside with a nerf sword and a stick. I wonder if he will ever really 'act his age.' I wonder if he will ever find his place in this world.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Ranty Rant Rant
I need to briefly rant.
WHY is it that my boy children do not get the concept of be quiet and don't be weird? We've tried Cub Scouts and now Junior Grange, but in neither case did my boys understand what it means to sit down, be quiet, and LISTEN. Nope.
In Scouts, they were young and our pack was small without a lot of men volunteering. With my hubby gone for long periods of time, the boys don't get a lot of male influence. Top that off with a health dose of Asperger's Syndrome and a lack of understanding of what that really entails and you've got a recipe for disaster. That is exactly what it was. I played the Scouting game for a year and a half. I threw in the towel because of a problem with the Cubmaster, but I should've just given up the first year when my boys refused to try and actually EARN their badges. There was nothing in it for them.
The latest failure involved Junior Grange. We are just start a Junior Grange group at our Grange and I had all three of my kids going. I really enjoy going to the Grange and I wanted my kids involved too. Small town= not so many kids and all of mine were picked as officers. We had our first official meeting and my boys were being themselves. I could split hairs and tell you how well-behaved (or misbehaved) the other kids attending were, but there's no point. Long story short: I got a call today from the adult leader and she thinks my boys are too aggressive and not respectful. She also thinks they will "scare" some other children, "sweet little girls," that haven't been able to come to Grange because they've been sick. That's fine. My boys just won't be a part of the Junior Grange. There's nothing in it for them.
In both cases, I was trying to get them involved in extra-cirricular activities so that they would get the experience of interracting with kids that aren't in their class or even necessarily in their school. It just occurred to me that I can add self-defense class to this list as well. Rodney lasted one class with that before I pulled him out and Raymond made it through half the year before the instructors booted him.
I'm not blaming here. I just wish I knew how to get my kids to understand the importance of staying quiet and listening. At least I think that would help, but really I don't know.
Oh and if you read this and you don't know me personally, don't think for a minute that my children aren't disciplined. I have tried my best and I know that's not good enough. I don't need anymore input on that, thank you very much.
WHY is it that my boy children do not get the concept of be quiet and don't be weird? We've tried Cub Scouts and now Junior Grange, but in neither case did my boys understand what it means to sit down, be quiet, and LISTEN. Nope.
In Scouts, they were young and our pack was small without a lot of men volunteering. With my hubby gone for long periods of time, the boys don't get a lot of male influence. Top that off with a health dose of Asperger's Syndrome and a lack of understanding of what that really entails and you've got a recipe for disaster. That is exactly what it was. I played the Scouting game for a year and a half. I threw in the towel because of a problem with the Cubmaster, but I should've just given up the first year when my boys refused to try and actually EARN their badges. There was nothing in it for them.
The latest failure involved Junior Grange. We are just start a Junior Grange group at our Grange and I had all three of my kids going. I really enjoy going to the Grange and I wanted my kids involved too. Small town= not so many kids and all of mine were picked as officers. We had our first official meeting and my boys were being themselves. I could split hairs and tell you how well-behaved (or misbehaved) the other kids attending were, but there's no point. Long story short: I got a call today from the adult leader and she thinks my boys are too aggressive and not respectful. She also thinks they will "scare" some other children, "sweet little girls," that haven't been able to come to Grange because they've been sick. That's fine. My boys just won't be a part of the Junior Grange. There's nothing in it for them.
In both cases, I was trying to get them involved in extra-cirricular activities so that they would get the experience of interracting with kids that aren't in their class or even necessarily in their school. It just occurred to me that I can add self-defense class to this list as well. Rodney lasted one class with that before I pulled him out and Raymond made it through half the year before the instructors booted him.
I'm not blaming here. I just wish I knew how to get my kids to understand the importance of staying quiet and listening. At least I think that would help, but really I don't know.
Oh and if you read this and you don't know me personally, don't think for a minute that my children aren't disciplined. I have tried my best and I know that's not good enough. I don't need anymore input on that, thank you very much.
Monday, September 17, 2012
When the road has been too long...
I am...sad, frustrated, sick. I drink, eat, and live this disability and it's running me into the ground.
This last week has been quite a rollercoaster. Rodney had to have dental work done under anesthesia in the hospital last Thursday. Friday was his 14th birthday. Today, he has major abdominal pain and diarrhea. All I do is tie it all together in my head. He is sick today because he probably didn't poo over the weekend and we've had lots of processed food this weekend. I had a headache most of the weekend due to smoke and dust in the air. So, cooking wasn't much on my agenda. And I am absorbing the blame.
When I look at my son anymore, I don't see a 14 year old. I see an 8 year old trapped in a young man's body. I try to buffer his world in order to reduce his anxiety and frustrations. I don't let anyone get in my way, including my husband. He sees Rodney's capabilities. He sees the pluses, while all I see is the negatives.
Hubby: Rodney really did a good job helping me yesterday. I only had to get after him to pay attention a couple of times.
Me: Did he see what you needed and get it for you?
Hubby: Yup.
Me: Just remember that he had nothing bugging him. I know he is capable, but I want you to remember that he isn't always able to do that.
That's when Hubby got pissed off at me and stormed out of the house. I wish I had just stuck to my first instinct and kept my mouth shut when he wanted to talk. Hubby also keeps bringing home realtor notices for acreage close to our home. He thinks that we should consider purchasing something for Rodney to live in or build on later so that he doesn't have to live at home with us for the rest of our lives.
I wish I had the luxury of leaving this situation for long periods of time. I know that Hubby doesn't want to leave, but that he has to go in order to take care of the family. However, I wish I could just get him to deal with the therapies, school phone calls and emails, and doctors just for a little while. Just long enough to give me a break. But that is highly unlikely to ever happen, so here I sit...
...sad, frustrated, and sick.
This last week has been quite a rollercoaster. Rodney had to have dental work done under anesthesia in the hospital last Thursday. Friday was his 14th birthday. Today, he has major abdominal pain and diarrhea. All I do is tie it all together in my head. He is sick today because he probably didn't poo over the weekend and we've had lots of processed food this weekend. I had a headache most of the weekend due to smoke and dust in the air. So, cooking wasn't much on my agenda. And I am absorbing the blame.
When I look at my son anymore, I don't see a 14 year old. I see an 8 year old trapped in a young man's body. I try to buffer his world in order to reduce his anxiety and frustrations. I don't let anyone get in my way, including my husband. He sees Rodney's capabilities. He sees the pluses, while all I see is the negatives.
Hubby: Rodney really did a good job helping me yesterday. I only had to get after him to pay attention a couple of times.
Me: Did he see what you needed and get it for you?
Hubby: Yup.
Me: Just remember that he had nothing bugging him. I know he is capable, but I want you to remember that he isn't always able to do that.
That's when Hubby got pissed off at me and stormed out of the house. I wish I had just stuck to my first instinct and kept my mouth shut when he wanted to talk. Hubby also keeps bringing home realtor notices for acreage close to our home. He thinks that we should consider purchasing something for Rodney to live in or build on later so that he doesn't have to live at home with us for the rest of our lives.
I wish I had the luxury of leaving this situation for long periods of time. I know that Hubby doesn't want to leave, but that he has to go in order to take care of the family. However, I wish I could just get him to deal with the therapies, school phone calls and emails, and doctors just for a little while. Just long enough to give me a break. But that is highly unlikely to ever happen, so here I sit...
...sad, frustrated, and sick.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Why I am upset with IDEA
We have been through the ringer with our local school district and our oldest son. He was diagnosed with Asperger's on the last day of his 2nd grade. I requested an IEP assessment from the school district. No answer. No assessment.
Fast forward to 6th grade. Three suspensions, a myriad of phone calls, and a certified letter to the Superintendent later and they FINALLY decide to do the assessment. Surprise, surprise, Rodney qualifies because he has an autism diagnosis. We had a big meeting to write his IEP. Unfortunately, it wasn't much of a plan as he was starting at the junior high the following September. When I met with the junior high principal, resource room teacher, and special services director, the plan looked promising. They had a full-time aide assigned to help Rodney navigate the halls, his lockers, and a whole passel of teachers. It sounded great on September 1st. However, when the aide decided that Rodney was capable and didn't really "need" her help on the first day of school, all of our hopes went down the toilet. She was required to work with Rodney all year, but that was never really helpful. She was untrained and unprepared and the majority of Rodney's meltdowns during the year are directly linked to that aide. There is so much more. I don't want to have to "relive" any of that crap. I desperately want to let it go and look forward to a better year.
I've spent the past 8 years hoping for that better year, but I can honestly say I've never seen it. Any strides Rodney has made in just the last 14 months is due to the developmental therapy he receives outside of school. He receives no services in school. We have jumped through the hoops to get him developmental therapy and IBI in addition to occupational therapy(OT) and physical therapy(PT). OT and PT didn't work out. Rodney DOES NOT do well with challenges and both were too much for him. So, this summer, we paid for a trainer to put together a workout program for him that the therapists and I can do with him. During the school year, I am hoping to be able to take Rodney to our local gym and run him through the weights at least once a week. That's great, but what about school? I was informed by our therapy provider that because Rodney qualifies for IBI outside of school that he should qualify in school and that if the school did the assessment, our provider was ready to contract with the district to perform those services. Yeah. That was a nice thought.
The resource room teacher and aide filled out the assessment and sent it to me. ME! It wasn't scored yet, so I looked to try and find where I needed to answer questions. No. There was nothing for me to add. They just thought that since I brought it up, that I knew where to send the assessment.
Sigh. I thought they were the professionals. I thought they were familiar with the IDEA and all that comes with it. I thought they had experience working with special needs kids. I was so wrong that it is not even funny.
So, this summer after much thought, we decided to talk to a lawyer about this situation. We know another family fighting a similar battle in the same district and I set up a phone appointment with one of the lawyers handling that case. What came out of that consultation is that we will have to shell out at least $1500 in a retainer so she can review our evidence and let us know IF we have a case, Idaho has a two year statute of limitations on these kinds of lawsuits, AND the only remedies allowed under the IDEA are educational and attorney's fees. So, in a nutshell, I have to shell out money to make the school district obey a law that is already on the books and is very, very clear. Attorney's fees come some time later. What part of that is going to convince the school district to stop this nonsense and get their act together? Let me know in the comments. I don't see it.
Fast forward to 6th grade. Three suspensions, a myriad of phone calls, and a certified letter to the Superintendent later and they FINALLY decide to do the assessment. Surprise, surprise, Rodney qualifies because he has an autism diagnosis. We had a big meeting to write his IEP. Unfortunately, it wasn't much of a plan as he was starting at the junior high the following September. When I met with the junior high principal, resource room teacher, and special services director, the plan looked promising. They had a full-time aide assigned to help Rodney navigate the halls, his lockers, and a whole passel of teachers. It sounded great on September 1st. However, when the aide decided that Rodney was capable and didn't really "need" her help on the first day of school, all of our hopes went down the toilet. She was required to work with Rodney all year, but that was never really helpful. She was untrained and unprepared and the majority of Rodney's meltdowns during the year are directly linked to that aide. There is so much more. I don't want to have to "relive" any of that crap. I desperately want to let it go and look forward to a better year.
I've spent the past 8 years hoping for that better year, but I can honestly say I've never seen it. Any strides Rodney has made in just the last 14 months is due to the developmental therapy he receives outside of school. He receives no services in school. We have jumped through the hoops to get him developmental therapy and IBI in addition to occupational therapy(OT) and physical therapy(PT). OT and PT didn't work out. Rodney DOES NOT do well with challenges and both were too much for him. So, this summer, we paid for a trainer to put together a workout program for him that the therapists and I can do with him. During the school year, I am hoping to be able to take Rodney to our local gym and run him through the weights at least once a week. That's great, but what about school? I was informed by our therapy provider that because Rodney qualifies for IBI outside of school that he should qualify in school and that if the school did the assessment, our provider was ready to contract with the district to perform those services. Yeah. That was a nice thought.
The resource room teacher and aide filled out the assessment and sent it to me. ME! It wasn't scored yet, so I looked to try and find where I needed to answer questions. No. There was nothing for me to add. They just thought that since I brought it up, that I knew where to send the assessment.
Sigh. I thought they were the professionals. I thought they were familiar with the IDEA and all that comes with it. I thought they had experience working with special needs kids. I was so wrong that it is not even funny.
So, this summer after much thought, we decided to talk to a lawyer about this situation. We know another family fighting a similar battle in the same district and I set up a phone appointment with one of the lawyers handling that case. What came out of that consultation is that we will have to shell out at least $1500 in a retainer so she can review our evidence and let us know IF we have a case, Idaho has a two year statute of limitations on these kinds of lawsuits, AND the only remedies allowed under the IDEA are educational and attorney's fees. So, in a nutshell, I have to shell out money to make the school district obey a law that is already on the books and is very, very clear. Attorney's fees come some time later. What part of that is going to convince the school district to stop this nonsense and get their act together? Let me know in the comments. I don't see it.
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