Report Card

I've been pretty quiet about Leo's academic life this year. Not because it's been bad or anything to be ashamed of, more that it's been a little uncertain. That, and he's getting older and I'm feeling a bit more self-conscious about blabbing all the details of his life all over the Internet. But allow me to blab a little, because I think there's something important here.

Earlier in the year there was some concern on the part of some of the members of Leo's "Team" (service coordinator (school psychologist) and teacher), about his placement and whether it was appropriate. Emails were exchanged, phone calls were made.

For the first time in his academic career, I dreaded Leo's IEP meeting. When the day finally arrived, a few days before Thanksgiving, it felt looong and tense. I fought back unhappy, uncomfortable tears a few times, scanning the stuffy, overheated room for a tissue box--don't all IEP meeting rooms contain tissue boxes?--with none to be found. In the past, all my IEP tears had been happy, choked-up-with-pride, emotional ones.

I'll be the first to admit it: We've been very lucky to this point. Leo's IEP meetings have been veritable love-fests. Leo is so wonderful. Leo is such a hard worker. He's always clicked with his teachers, who've never had anything but good things to say about him (believe me, I've pestered them for the bad stuff: Behavior? Backtalk? Nope. Lucky us he seems to have always saved all the not so fun stuff for home--to be fair, as many kids do).

The gist of it was, there were grumblings about moving him "back" to an old placement, to a classroom neither Erin or I felt was appropriate. His teacher was concerned that he was getting "frustrated" and she questioned whether it was the right setting for him.

Luckily, I was not completely blindsided by the Team's concerns, since Leo's teacher and I had spoken over the phone and via email a few weeks prior to the IEP meeting. But of course, since I'm me, I immediately panicked and shared what was going on with several friends of mine, experienced moms in the Down syndrome community.

And the words of one of my favorite "Down syndrome moms" rang true, and were exactly what I needed to hear:

"If I eliminated everything in my life that was frustrating, there wouldn't be much left."

Right? I mean, OK. He's frustrated. What kid isn't frustrated in school sometimes? What person isn't frustrated in the world sometimes? Welcome to me in third, fourth and fifth grade math (well, pretty much my entire math career, but that's another post). The key is figuring out ways to help him. Put supports in place. Investigate where he's struggling and what can be done to assist him (without of course helping him too much). To immediately send him to another class just felt way too easy. It's not that I don't want him to succeed, of course I do. But I also want him to be challenged and not immediately freak out if, for the first time in his life, he's not doing everything he's supposed to be doing at every single moment.

So that's what I told the Team.

"If I eliminated everything in my life that was frustrating, there wouldn't be much left. It needs to be OK for him to get a little frustrated. But let's try to help him succeed."

I just feel like there is this rampant tendency to put kids with special needs under this incredibly unfair microscope. If they don't quickly and quietly conform to exactly what's expected of them, they're apt to get a One Way ticket to Plan B or C or just Something Else, something that tends to also be easier for the Team. Meanwhile, a typical kid would be given the room to screw up a little, to find their way.

And you know what? I feel like the Team heard me. And I think they came around to agreeing with me. One person noted the importance of the social component in Leo's current placement. Another pointed out that the "other" placement would be a huge step backwards for Leo in several subjects.

Don't get me wrong. I am not in denial that Leo needs extra help. I am not about putting him in a certain class for "appearances." And if the time comes, I'll be happy to acknowledge he's in the wrong place. But in my heart of hearts, I do not believe that was the case here.

Things weren't (and aren't) perfect over night. There were several notes back and forth about missing homework (Leo needs someone to help him remember to pack all of his homework at the end of the day). I'm still worried about how hard it can be for him to focus and how easily distracted he is. A big concern has been math and how he's had a difficult time retaining information (he'll learn it and then seems to forget it a few weeks later). 

But this came home the week after Thanksgiving:

And you can imagine my relief when I opened Leo's report card last week and read this, from his teacher:

"Leo is adjusting well to the rigorous academic demands of fourth grade…He is a happy boy, never complains and tries his best at all times. You should be very proud of him. I know I am!"



Who knows what tomorrow, or next month or next year will bring (although we did determine his placement for fifth grade--GULP--and I feel good about it).

And for now, I'm back to happy tears.