Monkey just “read” me a story. Can you guess? It’s pretty easy, lol.
Capillar hungy.
Cake! Pizza! ((No, pizza is not eaten in the book, it’s Monkey’s favorite food and he insists that the pie is pizza. Wishful thinking.))
Big capillar! Big!
Cocoon, sleep *fake snore sound*
A buffly!
The other night Monkey and Duhdee were in the living room playing. Duhdee told Monkey to go give me a kiss. Monkey came running to find me. He caught me just as I entered the hall from the bathroom and he held his arms up for a hug.
I bent over to hug him, he hugged my neck tightly and wrapped his legs around my waist. As I stood, lifting him up, I bumped my back on the door handle.
As soon as the “Owww!” was out of my mouth Monkey asked, “You OK?” and he patted my back gently to comfort me. Then I fell into a diabetic coma from the sweetness.
Once recovered I told Duhdee, for probably the third time that day, “We got the best one!”
This morning a copy of Monkey’s ABLLS results were in his cubby at school. I definitely agree with our advocate that it provides great visual evidence of Monkey’s skills. I also agree with his teacher that it shows his strengths and weaknesses very effectively.
So what’s the problem? We were just given the score sheet (not the technical term, I’m sure) which is what we had asked for. So, again, what’s the problem? The score sheet doesn’t tell us what questions were asked for each skill so while I know what categories the results are for I don’t have specifics.
I should have known better. When have I ever been satisfied with anything less than alllll the information I can get my hands on? The answer to that, should you be new here, is never. Duhdee’s going to have to ask for the full test results. All ninety-six pages. At least I know what I’ll be reading for the rest of the week…
Sometimes when we talk about Monkey with co-workers or other parents it’s really clear that we reside in a totally different world. Sometimes it makes me a little blue to be honest.
On Thursday, I was quickly wrapping up a project meeting so I could leave for Monkey’s IEP meeting when a co-worker asked if it was like a “PTA meeting.”
Heh, no. So, while I stuffed papers into my bag and thanked people for coming, I explained what an IEP is and she said…
“Oh! How cute!”
I stopped in my tracks, turned to look at her and…laughed. Several people stared at her like she had two heads but how can you not laugh at that?
My response was, “Not really. It’s kind of a pain in the ass, actually.”
So, the IEP meeting we expected to be “meh” was anything but. The biggest piece of news came about 2/3’s of the way through the meeting when the AT evaluator arrived with The Device. ((FYI, it’s the SpringboardLite, he will get the VantageLite in July.)) That’s huge but the other parts of the meeting were even better and I am saying that sincerely not sarcastically, as I am wont to do.
We did not spend hours going over the reports that they had written which is typical of these meetings. I’ve never really understood why they would write a report, present it to us 48 hours in advance and then proceed to read it to us at the meeting. I know they have to do the first two but it seems like such a waste of time reading them aloud at the meeting. It is primarily why our IEP meetings tend to stretch unnecessarily into 3 hour marathons. So we skipped it. They assumed we’d done our homework and we had. We’re suck-ups that way.
Each of the evaluators started by asking us if we had any questions about what they’d provided. We didn’t really have any questions. The reports were all very well written which shouldn’t be noteworthy, given the fact that they’re written by teachers, but it is. I’ve been shocked by some of the reports and IEPs we’ve seen in the past. Hello, spell check anyone? (Cheeses priced! My thoughts always run this way…as do my conversations…another reason that our IEP meetings tend to stretch unnecessarily into 3 hour marathons, ahem.)
Back to the subject at hand. The reports were well written. They started with the assumption that we’d read them and we just jumped right to the question and answer sessions. They each made sure to hit the highlights of the reports. We asked his teacher to take some additional notes and write up yet another letter for our developmental pediatrician. I think we’re going to try to skip to the Focalin sooner rather than later since Monkey’s emotional fragility has not eased. In fact, he was so emotional last Friday that the teacher worried about him all night. She called us on Saturday to check on him. I love her. He was fine.
I mentioned that the reports were a bit depressing, the numbers are not what any parent wants to hear. 1 percentile ranking in skills is heartbreaking no matter how many times you’ve seen it. What was amazing to us though was the reason for this. Want to know why the numbers were low? Because for the first time ever, in his life, he was able to tolerate standardized tests. He sat through entire tests and remained focused. He didn’t melt down. He sat down for long periods of time and responded to direct questions. Totally unprecedented. They didn’t even plan on using standardized tests when we talked in April because no one thought he’d ever be able to handle it. And he DID IT! I am so amazed and proud of him.
They also used observations of him in the classroom and knowledge they possess because they have been working with him directly for 2 years now and included that information in the reports as well to give a more accurate picture of his abilities since the standardized tests did not. Both the ST and the OT commented on the fact that there were lots of times when they couldn’t give him credit for an answer because he didn’t quite do it correctly even though he understood what they were asking. For example, there was a picture of a kitchen with lots of forks hidden in it. He was told to circle the forks. His fine motor skills are enough of a struggle for him that drawing the circles was taking up way too much of his focus so the OT had him POINT at the forks and she marked them. Twice she had to mark him as giving incorrect answers because he pointed to a knife once and a spoon once but she didn’t want to mark it down because even though he’d pointed at it, he’d done so while shaking his head no. He told her they weren’t forks but because he touched them she had to record them as incorrect responses. See why standardized tests suck?
The teacher had also administered the ABLLS, we’ll be getting a copy of the results soon…she forgot to bring them. She was AMAZED by how well he did. He is showing huge gains in his skills in all areas and there are a lot of “emerging” skills that we’ll work toward mastering. She also noted that he’s made huge gains in his pre-academic areas. His pre-literacy and math skills have made big jumps in the last two months so she had to re-write some of his goals. TWO MONTHS!
So, the percentile rankings…meh…we knew that they wouldn’t give us a good picture of his abilities but the very fact that he could sit and take them is amazing. He’s showing huge gains everywhere. He’s even started talking in SENTENCES this week. I wish all our IEP meetings went like this!
Monkey has a freaking assistive tech/voice output device. Holy crappen!
We have been discussing this issue since…hmmm, let’s see…June, 2008! TWO YEARS!!! Several times we thought we were close only for it to continue to drag on but at today’s meeting the Assistive Tech trainer/evaluator had a “loaner” device for him to use, until his device arrives in July, IN HER HAND. An actual, honest to goodness device…I was so shocked I didn’t even look at what it is, lol. She did say that it’s the older model of the VantageLite which is what he’ll be getting.
AND, AND, AND…my insurance company is paying for it. Stunning. Simply stunning.
I feel like this is all I do! Gah.
This is our 3 year re-evaluation. We have reports, lots of reports. I read through all of them yesterday. It’s a bit depressing, as usual, to read about the delays. Obviously we’re aware he’s delayed but breaking it down to numbers is just so harsh. In his weakest areas (expressive communication and fine motor) he’s operating at about the 2-3 year old range. In his stronger areas (receptive communication and daily living skills) he’s at the 4-5 year range with some areas on target. His other skills are scattered in the middle.
So what does this mean? Not much, actually. We already knew he would still be eligible for special education. We wrote an IEP and updated his goals less than 2 months ago so those shouldn’t change much. We know what classroom he will be in. The only things we don’t know now are 1. who his teacher is and 2. at which school the classroom will be located.
Neither of those unknowns will be resolved tomorrow. The district is still interviewing teachers. They’re planning to hire someone with dual certification so he or she can teach both the special education and mainstream portions. The space we all thought would be used for the classroom is unavailable. The space is currently occupied by a substantially separate classroom that the district wanted to move. Parents objected to the proposals, for some very good reasons, so the class will not be moved until 2011 at the earliest.
We’re a little disappointed because the school was one of our proximity schools and it has integrated grades 3-8 classrooms already established, no other school in the district is set up in this manner. We’ll just have to see what happens. If the parents’ concerns and the district’s concerns are reconciled it will make little difference ultimately but if things continue as they are Monkey will have to go to at least 2 and possibly 3 or 4 different schools between kindergarten and 8th grade while a typical student goes to the same school K-8. We don’t want that. We want him to be able to build those long term friendships with peers and teachers so that when he does go to the district high school he has those friendships to ease his transition.
But, none of these things can be addressed tomorrow, clearly. So, we go to the meeting and hopefully get it done quickly. I’m not terribly concerned with getting a perfect IEP this time. Once we have a school, a teacher, a classroom and a classroom schedule then we’re going to have to fine tune it anyway. It seems so anti-climactic. The 3 year re-eval is supposed to be such a big deal and it’s pretty much turned out to be…meh.
Not that I’m complaining 🙂
Trains are not a new obsession for Monkey. He loves them, he’s always loved them and, I suspect, he always will. A couple weeks ago, while we were at Children’s Hospital, we saw an ad for a new train related cartoon on Playhouse Disney called Chuggington. We may be way behind the curve on this one since we only watch shows that we DVR and we have a program that automatically skips commercials but it was the first I’d heard of it. I suggested to Duhdee that he set that show up to record, just to see.
It’s designed for preschoolers and it, apparently, nails the target audience perfectly. Monkey is obsessed. When he’s allowed to watch TV he now only requests “trains?” So much for my beloved Penguins *pout.*
Last night, I gave Monkey his melatonin and he requested the trains…again. I put it on thinking 10 minutes at most and he’d be running for bed. He very consistently puts himself to bed at 7:30 despite any distractions like guests or games. It seems that the trains are exempt. I waited patiently for him to declare, “Ummai, ready! Bed.” 10, 15 and then 20 minutes passed and he was still up. I asked him if it was time for bed.
“No!”
OK, then. 45 minutes after his normal bedtime, I asked him again and received the same response though it was followed by a yawn. I decided I’d have to force the issue, so I turned the TV off and told him it was bedtime. He ran willingly into his room and asked for his PJs and socks. Duhdee came in for his hug and kiss. As I was tucking him in, I whispered, “Sweet dreams.” Normally he responds “dreams.” I thought that is what he said but it was a little muffled so I asked him to repeat himself.
“Trains?”
Ha, no. Bedtime. I started to tell him he could watch the trains when he woke up tomorrow but then visions of Monkey standing by my bed at 3 AM asking for “trains?” flashed through my head. Instead, I told him that he could watch the trains again after he had breakfast. Tricky Umma.
This morning at 8 AM (!!!) he woke me up and asked for breakfast. Can you guess what the first word out of his mouth after he washed his hands was? I’m really, really glad I told him after breakfast…
Last night we had dinner on our back deck, a favorite dining location for Monkey. I think his favorite part of eating outside are all the friends that join us. Bees, flies, spiders…ugh. I can’t believe any child of mine likes bugs in general but to see him picking up spiders, OMG, it kills me.
So, we were enjoying the tortellini and vodka cream sauce when something buzzed by. I am proud to say that I did not jump up out of my seat screaming like a little girl. I just wanted to. Now, if this something had come sliding down on a thin strand of silk, rather than buzzing by, you can be certain that the neighbors would have all been looking out their windows wondering if a call to 911 was needed…
But it didn’t. It buzzed by and I merely froze in place and held my breath, waiting to identify the intruder before perhaps overreacting by a smidge. The winged bandit settled on the nearby ladder and I let out a breath. “It’s only a fly!”
The entire time I was frozen in place desperately trying to avoid potential death by stinger, Monkey’s eyes were fixated on the beast. He watched avidly as it lazily circled over the table before landing. His reaction was to hold his hand out and say, in that gentle, high pitched, voice we all use to coax some nervous creature to hand, “C’mere…come herre, c’mere.”
And, in response, that stupid fly took flight and would have landed on the kid’s hand if he hadn’t, at the last second, reached out instead of keeping his hand at rest.
So, now, we call him the Bug Whisperer. I’m so squicked out proud.
