I Like This

Actually, I don't.  I hate it.  So much.  James is crying every day at school.  The only thing he can tell me is "they hurt me."  He is frightened of any child who makes noise.  Even if they are quiet, he anticipates the noise that he knows they CAN make. It's pretty bad.  We had a meeting about creating a behavioral plan.  I requested a one-on-one.  I requested his sensory diet be followed to a tee.  I requested they use his iPad.  In this case, a successful behavioral plan cannot be implemented without a one-on-one.  The teacher has complained that her staff is stretched thin.  How else could James be monitored, let alone brushed?  How can the plan be put it in place and function if no one oversees it?  That was 10 days ago.  Zip.  Not even a copy of the minutes from that meeting.  I complained to the "principal."  Actually, that's not her title.  I have no idea what her title is and I don't really care. . .  because that was Tuesday and today is Friday and I have heard NOTHING.  Not even "we're working on it."  So today, I wrote letters.  Enough of making myself sick and being unable to sleep.  Well, at least for one glorious weekend.  Because at home, although we do have new issues - I now have a kid who is terrified of his adorable cousin;  I have a kid who won't let me leave his sight and follows me around the house; I have a kid who cries when I take away my attention to use the phone - because at home, this is what I see.  And this?  I do like this.

Hold On Tight

James is having an extremely rough time at school.  He has been having problems since the summer regarding noise and extreme fear of violence, but things eased after his class was switched. Unfortunately, these issues were never seriously addressed, did not completely disappear,  and, very recently, majorly escalated.  Before break, he cried, yelled, and screamed for three days straight.  After vacation, he started up where he let off.  At home? At home we are doing well. Sigh.  I mean it is GREAT but how can I curb behaviors when I don't experience them?  Be careful for what you wish for!

With all this in mind, I dreaded my nephew's third birthday party.  First strike was the hour.  Four PM, is not good for James.  He is creature of routine.  By that time, we are headed home ending our day, not starting a new activity.  Holiday, vacation, busy weekdays are all very similarly structured. Home, snack, relaxing, and then homework, bath and dinner. After that it is movie time with Mom and Dad.  With what was happening at school, I tried to talk with my husband about James skipping the party.  It didn't work and James spent an hour cowering on my lap watching YouTube in the basement playroom, where we stayed for the evening.  Not good but not the time or place for teaching a lesson.

Although my fears were realized, I at least planned ahead and took Monday off so James (and his parents) could recover before going back to an already difficult school routine.  Also, a school meeting has been scheduled to address James' behavior. We have briefly talked about developing a behavioral plan and amending James' IEP (Individualized Education Plan).  I have to make sure this plan is created with James' sensory issues in mind.  This over-sensitivity to sound must be tackled.  It went from fear of noise and fear of violence to noise=violence.  I have patiently waited for whatever their plans - to settle him in the new class were - to work.  They are not.  Besides, when I was told that James would have a transitional person help him ease into his new environment, I mistakenly assumed that it would continue until the transition was deemed to be complete, not three days, regardless.  Honestly, I feel nothing was seriously done to help James because they wanted him to fail.  Okay, maybe "fail" is harsh, but it is a matter of semantics. I believe the school wants James to give up a seat in this higher-functioning class, and be placed back in the class for kids with violent behavioral issues.  They can't fill that class, parents have actually pulled their children out of the school when a change could not be accommodated.  As we will if this is suggested.  Although James in non-verbal, he has typed "they hurt me" and chosen "I feel" "scared" on his iPad.  How can we send him back to such an environment?

This time, concrete plans must be detailed, including implementation, measurement and evaluation.  And I want my ideas about using a weighted vest, about brushing and joint compression, and about noise-canceling headphones, to be incorporated meticulously.  These common ingredients of a "Sensory Diet" have been introduced in the classroom, but incorrectly, and have exasperated James' issues.  Because of this, we will demand a one-on-one para-professional. Concurrently. we are planning a full medical work-up on our boy as well.  Checking his hearing, looking for any allergies (besides the hot button gluten/casein issues), even his brain activity.  I can't continue to ignore the physical, just because he seems healthy as a horse.  Besides, if the doctor feels a one-on-one is needed, a medical justification would be a far easier way to ensure it!

Yikes. Talk about new resolutions! 

Number Nine

Merry Christmas!  Happy Chanukah! Happy New Year!
AND  . . .
Happy Happy Birthday James! You are one of the hardest working, amazing kids I have ever met.  Day after day, you not only go to school, but to therapy, and get through these days without being able to talk, without being able to understand how to do things in the same way as everybody else.  This past year, you have blown your Daddy and me away with your accomplishments.  You showed us that you have been listening and paying careful attention all along.  How is it that you can't use a pencil without help but you can type complete sentences with correct verb tense?  And just how long have you been able to read?  Yes, when you demonstrated knowing words without pictures to your speech therapist, I was in tears but they were for joy and pride and happiness!  I know you hate coloring and always assumed it was because you couldn't . . . but you like to draw and paint?!  I love the painting you made of me and the drawing you made of your buddy for her birthday (complete with her trademark open mouth).  Listen big guy, you are known for screaming at therapy too!  And the toilet training? Once you made up your mind, there has been no turning back. In the past week, you made me so proud when you got out of the bath tub to use the toilet!  And when we went out to lunch on Saturday and you got up and took Dad to the restroom?  You rule dude!  Not only for the few things I mentioned but for all you do every day.  Thank you, Mr. James!

PDA

James had a fever on Sunday night, so we cancelled school. The next day, he was no longer hot, but was super cuddly.  We loved that part!  By late morning, James showed signs of bouncing back. AKA: reeking havoc around the house.  What should we do?  We should get out but it was so foggy and wet.  You might take a "normal" kid to the mall or the movies.  Who wants to enter a mall this time of year . . . but the movies?  James has never gone.  Did we dare? Could he sit for that long?  Would it be too loud?  Too overwhelming?  What if some tot cried?  Would we be throwing money away?
Too much thinking.  It would either work or not.  We just went. The 11:10 screening of The Muppets.

One hour and 38 minutes later, we left the theater.  Although it was sunny and over 60 degrees, David and I were numb and shaking.  Not from being emotionally beat up, but from shear elation.  James loved the movie.  It was perfect.  Several times, James was so happy, he couldn't contain himself and he would grab me and kiss me!  And a few other times, when we could see him getting bored or antsy, those lovable muppets - as they have been known to do - would break out in song!  It was such a memorable day.  Unreal even.  I am not even sure if the sun did actually shine, or if it was just our utter happiness at our autistic son seeing his first theater movie.  It was foggy again by the time we got back to the house.  As David put it, when we were falling asleep that night, it seems like a dream.