A few months after my trip into a therapy free world, I had an IEP meeting in late May after a reevaluation of Batman's gross and fine motor skills and his academic skills.
The upshot was that he had core muscle deficits that were keeping him from progressing with printing and that he'd progressed so little in reading that he'd need to go into the resource room for it. He would also need to go in for Math, not because he didn't understand it but because he could not print quickly enough to keep up with the work in class.
I listened to everything and agreed to it all. And then I went home and thought, "I can't do this anymore." A week later I sent the District office my Declaration of Intent to Homeschool.
I'll write a more complete account of this soon. I will be gussying up the look of this blog and I will finally force myself to become more proficient with downloading pictures. I'll also be shifting the emphasis to homeschooling as well as autism. More to come soon, I promise!
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Quitting the social group
Well, I did it. I took the leap into a therapy-free world for my son. Outside of school, that is. Sam's independent speech therapist "graduated" him last November. She said that he was successfully learning his verb tenses and making inferences from story illustrations and that he was picking up verbal cues from other people, and so no longer needed to see her. He still gets speech therapy in school, mostly practice in conversation.
I also pulled him out of his social skills group. Our last meeting was last Thursday at a bouncy place. It was meeting once a week at different venues. The kids would bowl, ice skate, or whatever, then sit down in a circle, play games, practice turn-taking and what have you. The group meeting time was a pain in the rear end, meeting from 3:45-5:45, putting us in a time crunch for dinner and bed, not to mention rush hour traffic, but I'd mainly been feeling resentful of the group for some time, which I think was a signal from the subconscious that we were ready to be done. When you are no longer grateful to a therapist for providing effective services your child desperately needs.....well, perhaps your child no longer desperately needs them. Sam is socially successful at school. Most telling: When I told him we were quitting the group and I asked him how he felt about it, he answered, "Happy. We get to go on our own!" Sam's a fairly outgoing child, so that was interesting coming from him. Maybe he didn't think he needed it either.
With social skills, we are done. Sam gets speech therapy for conversation and occupational therapy for fine motor skills at school, but that's it. I think he enjoys the pull outs for their own sake and to get a break from class.
I also pulled him out of his social skills group. Our last meeting was last Thursday at a bouncy place. It was meeting once a week at different venues. The kids would bowl, ice skate, or whatever, then sit down in a circle, play games, practice turn-taking and what have you. The group meeting time was a pain in the rear end, meeting from 3:45-5:45, putting us in a time crunch for dinner and bed, not to mention rush hour traffic, but I'd mainly been feeling resentful of the group for some time, which I think was a signal from the subconscious that we were ready to be done. When you are no longer grateful to a therapist for providing effective services your child desperately needs.....well, perhaps your child no longer desperately needs them. Sam is socially successful at school. Most telling: When I told him we were quitting the group and I asked him how he felt about it, he answered, "Happy. We get to go on our own!" Sam's a fairly outgoing child, so that was interesting coming from him. Maybe he didn't think he needed it either.
With social skills, we are done. Sam gets speech therapy for conversation and occupational therapy for fine motor skills at school, but that's it. I think he enjoys the pull outs for their own sake and to get a break from class.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
It's been awhile, but let's try it again.....
Sam is six now; he had his birthday a few weeks ago. He is in a mainstream kindergarten class, and is doing relatively well. Academically, he is fine and he is well liked and accepted by his peers. His main problem these days has to do with his executive functioning difficulties. He has a hard time with emotional control, with transitions to non-preferred activities, with paying and sustaining attention. He is frequently unpredictable, in positive and negative ways. Fortunately, we have a fabulous teacher and a great IEP. The school has been very accomodating. Sam has a separate desk where he can take a break to play with playdough. If that is not enough, he can request to go to the office, where he plays with Legos in the principal's office. He has learned to do this independently. So, he's doing pretty darn well so far.
His independent speech therapist graduated him a few months ago, so now all he gets is 30 minutes once a week from the school. The school therapist focuses mainly on improving his conversational skills.
He does get occupational therapy, also for 30 minutes once a week, to work on his fine motor skills. His printing is messy but is steadily improving. So far, so good! Maybe there isn't a reason for this blog anymore, as we seem to have made it for now.
His independent speech therapist graduated him a few months ago, so now all he gets is 30 minutes once a week from the school. The school therapist focuses mainly on improving his conversational skills.
He does get occupational therapy, also for 30 minutes once a week, to work on his fine motor skills. His printing is messy but is steadily improving. So far, so good! Maybe there isn't a reason for this blog anymore, as we seem to have made it for now.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Grandparents in town
My parents came into town for a visit today. So far Sam has coped with their presence better than I ever could have expected. They aren't complete strangers to him, but as they only visit a few times per year, he doesn't know them well.
When my mother asked for a kiss he went up and kissed and hugged her, then (upon request) to my father as well. They can't believe the difference in his speech and behavior in just a few months and say that his eye contact seems completely normal. Then he asked my mother to watch him play a new game he'd come up with, sliding down the stairs on a boogie board. "Watch me, Grandma!" and "I went really fast!"
Then, when I told him he was crazy, he answered back, "You're crazy, Mom!" then for good measure, "You're crazy, Grandma!" and "You're crazy, Grandpa!"
Thom made his presence known in his own way by proudly walking five or six steps, then collapsing to the floor.
On the not-so-great side, (the bad part being the reason) the co-sleeping arrangement may, thankfully, soon come to an end. My husband watched Sam pinch Thom's nose closed in an attempt to halt his loud breathing. He's going to start rocking Thom to sleep in Sam's room, then putting Thom to bed in our room once Sam has fallen asleep. Let's hope it works out. Sam needs to start sleeping in his own bed, in his room.
When my mother asked for a kiss he went up and kissed and hugged her, then (upon request) to my father as well. They can't believe the difference in his speech and behavior in just a few months and say that his eye contact seems completely normal. Then he asked my mother to watch him play a new game he'd come up with, sliding down the stairs on a boogie board. "Watch me, Grandma!" and "I went really fast!"
Then, when I told him he was crazy, he answered back, "You're crazy, Mom!" then for good measure, "You're crazy, Grandma!" and "You're crazy, Grandpa!"
Thom made his presence known in his own way by proudly walking five or six steps, then collapsing to the floor.
On the not-so-great side, (the bad part being the reason) the co-sleeping arrangement may, thankfully, soon come to an end. My husband watched Sam pinch Thom's nose closed in an attempt to halt his loud breathing. He's going to start rocking Thom to sleep in Sam's room, then putting Thom to bed in our room once Sam has fallen asleep. Let's hope it works out. Sam needs to start sleeping in his own bed, in his room.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Good words
Sam enters the room while I am cuddling Thom, who is awakening from his nap.
Sam: Hi Mom! Time to get up!
Me: Honey, first I need to cuddle Thom, then I'll get up.
Sam: First cuddle Thom, then get up. Ok!
--pause--
Do you need five minutes?
Me: Yes, I would love five minutes, thanks.
Sam: Ok! I'll be back soon!
(Shuts door behind him, then reopens it less than one minute later.)
Sam: Time to get up, Mom!
Mom: (sigh.)
Sam: Hi Mom! Time to get up!
Me: Honey, first I need to cuddle Thom, then I'll get up.
Sam: First cuddle Thom, then get up. Ok!
--pause--
Do you need five minutes?
Me: Yes, I would love five minutes, thanks.
Sam: Ok! I'll be back soon!
(Shuts door behind him, then reopens it less than one minute later.)
Sam: Time to get up, Mom!
Mom: (sigh.)
Monday, February 4, 2008
Different life
I've been pondering lately how I've managed to forget how much autism changes even small every day activities, especially since I've had a second child, who has recently made the passage into toddlerhood.
We went into our favorite local yarn store today, something I would not have dared do with Sam a year ago. On the way in, I reminded him that he was not to touch any yarn. Well.....he was great! He didn't touch any of the yarn. Instead, he touched the fountain, and the mannequins, then entered the employee area, then stepped into the front display windows. But he didn't, once, touch any of the yarn. What can I say, except that maybe I need to write some social stories about how to behave in public places? He also did a great job of listening to the store owner and helped to wind my balls of yarn. He got a lollipop when we got back to the car for doing exactly as I asked. (GRAPE lollipop! THANK YOU, Mom!)
Even with Sam on his best behavior, it was still a big hassle. I forgot exactly how difficult it can be to hold a toddler on one arm while simultaneously shuffling through my purse with the other, fending off little hands and the odd bid for freedom (arching his back) as I went. And of course, the toddler will heed no such admonitions to keep away from the yarn and was snatching everything he could reach. The shop is small and it was hard to keep an adequate distance away from one shelf without moving directly into the other.
Lest I rest too heavily on my relief that a four year Sam is so much more biddable and better behaved than in the past, my husband today called to inform me that the reason my car stereo had ceased to work was due to a nickel that had been inserted into the cd slot. Removing the nickel cost an extra $100. And, while the stereo works now, apparently the only way to turn it off is to turn off the ignition; the power button no longer does the job.
I feel as though I'm moving past the grief into a better acceptance of Sam's diagnosis and have been more willing to talk/think/write about it recently. It's still hard, but no longer overwhelming. So, more to come.
We went into our favorite local yarn store today, something I would not have dared do with Sam a year ago. On the way in, I reminded him that he was not to touch any yarn. Well.....he was great! He didn't touch any of the yarn. Instead, he touched the fountain, and the mannequins, then entered the employee area, then stepped into the front display windows. But he didn't, once, touch any of the yarn. What can I say, except that maybe I need to write some social stories about how to behave in public places? He also did a great job of listening to the store owner and helped to wind my balls of yarn. He got a lollipop when we got back to the car for doing exactly as I asked. (GRAPE lollipop! THANK YOU, Mom!)
Even with Sam on his best behavior, it was still a big hassle. I forgot exactly how difficult it can be to hold a toddler on one arm while simultaneously shuffling through my purse with the other, fending off little hands and the odd bid for freedom (arching his back) as I went. And of course, the toddler will heed no such admonitions to keep away from the yarn and was snatching everything he could reach. The shop is small and it was hard to keep an adequate distance away from one shelf without moving directly into the other.
Lest I rest too heavily on my relief that a four year Sam is so much more biddable and better behaved than in the past, my husband today called to inform me that the reason my car stereo had ceased to work was due to a nickel that had been inserted into the cd slot. Removing the nickel cost an extra $100. And, while the stereo works now, apparently the only way to turn it off is to turn off the ignition; the power button no longer does the job.
I feel as though I'm moving past the grief into a better acceptance of Sam's diagnosis and have been more willing to talk/think/write about it recently. It's still hard, but no longer overwhelming. So, more to come.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Busy, busy, bleah
Christmas madness is nearly over, so I can start to post more regularly again. Sam has taken the holidays in stride, but we can tell he is off his routine as he has been having temper tantrums more often. He's also developed something of a nervous fixation on speed bumps and will mention them repeatedly whenever we approach one. He is starting to speak in complete sentences more and more often and it is becoming easier to understand him. Temper tantrums could also be due to that development; whenever he has a "jump" in development he gets cranky and anxious for awhile, I guess until he's integrated it.
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