Fragile Kicks and IEP Dillemas

I know everyone has been on the edge of their seats about this one.

Leo’s yellow Crocs were a huge bust.

Not only were they too small (OK, they fit but they’re a tad narrow for Barney Rubble Foot). He just doesn’t seem comfortable in them. And then about ten minutes after he tried them on for the first time, he succeeded in ripping the back strap off of one of them (oh my little Curious George/El Destructo, sigh). Apparently you can order replacements from the company (of course you can! Why am I even surprised?) which I’m in the process of doing, but I’m also considering just reselling the darn things on eBay. Oh well.

Meanwhile Ellie is obsessed with her pink Crocs. It’s all she’ll wear. Well, fifty percent summer shoe success isn’t bad I guess.

In other more “hard” news, Leo’s IEP meeting is next week. Gulp. I guess I should be more nervous than I am. I received a nice call from Leo’s physical therapist last night. I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m crazy because I answered the phone with a very suspicious tone as it was around the time that telemarketers call. Couple this with the fact that hardly anyone but Erin’s work uses our land line, well let’s just say I did not sound overly friendly. But I quickly warmed to her when I realized who it was (oops) and figured out that she called to check on Leo’s tooth (or lack of!) since, as you’ll recall, it was during a P.T. session that he lost a tooth earlier this week.

She also wanted to let me know that she would not be able to attend the IEP meeting, but that she was planning to propose reducing his P.T. sessions to once a week (down from three, one individual and two “group” sessions which is really only two kids).

She said Leo is doing fabulously and has made huge strides this year. He actually met all of his goals for the year back in December (so of course she created new goals). She added she’s noticing him making progress in other areas: last week Leo asked her for a drink of water, as a full sentence (this sentence thing is new and big, trust me). Her response: You can have anything you want if you say it in a sentence!
She pronounced him as doing “everything a typical kindergartner is doing with just a slight delay.”

This is great news of course, but I’m torn about reducing his P.T. On the one hand, it’s wonderful that he’s doing so well. On the other hand, is he doing so well because of all the therapy (three weekly 30-minute sessions)? Who’s to know?

Not a huge, mind blowing question, but one of the many that will swirl around in my head tonight as I lie in bed, having stayed up too late to watch the season finale of "Grey's Anatomy."