I know I’m re-posting a lot this week. I’ve hardly had time to write, much less read anything, the last two weeks. This post is getting re-booted because I have Little Man’s tri-ennial IEP meeting in 90 minutes. It’s scheduled to last two hours. I’m nervous. This is the first full IEP meeting with his new team. I know he hasn’t been the most cooperative with all the assessments and evaluations. While the post talks about the “big” middle school his siblings went to, we know now he isn’t there, but is in the new school, and it is absolutely perfect for him. Relief there, but as usual, new concerns and issues pop up. And yes, it is Nutcracker week, with a full weekend of performances beginning tonight. And tomorrow is my wedding anniversary. Nah, there’s no stress this week…..
Yes, smack in the middle of the Holiday Season is Little Man’s annual IEP meeting. Did I mention it’s also the same day as my wedding anniversary? Oh yeah, it’s also Nutcracker weekend for the Princess with two shows later that day. I’ve been given opportunity to change the date. I really should. But I start to get anxious about this meeting pretty much on the first day of school, and I’m the type who would rather just get it over with, no matter what else may be going on that day.
I shouldn’t be anxious. His team is awesome. They love him. They want the best for him. I haven’t had to fight for anything the last two years. I go in there with my notes, questions, requests. Before I even get to them, the team is presenting everything I’m ready to ask for. That’s how good they are, how well they know my guy. And yet, I’m still tummy-twisting anxious. I’m getting choked up just thinking about it…yeah, you know, the fabulous knot in your throat you can’t seem to swallow past? That would be it.
Friday morning, 7:30am, sharp….D-Day for IEP. I hate he needs this. I hate he needs accommodations to get through a school day. It stresses me out that just when we think we’ve helped him reach one goal, three other issues will pop up, and adjustments have to be made. I’m not awesome with change, with new. Every time we have these meetings, I feel I’m failing him, that there is more I could and should be doing for him. That need to fix kicks into high gear. The need to protect flies even higher. And let’s not even get into my wish for everyone to see past his autism to the amazing, loving, beautiful boy inside.
He’s in fifth grade. That means we need to start talking about next year and middle school. Goals will need to be added, changed, adjusted to that environment. I don’t even know where to begin, and that terrifies me. When I think about him in that big school with those huge kids, I lose it. There’s just so much, so many thoughts, worries. I can’t even put it all into words. We have a few things on our list for him next year. But even his siblings shake their heads at the prospect. Their school is awesome, but oh man…We want him mainstreamed, but the thought of him swimming along with all those kids….GAH!!
A little, tiny, still-quiet voice in the back of my head keeps saying, “Let him go….he will surprise you all, and fly.” I want to believe that voice. He will not always be exactly as he is today. He just seems so small, so behind emotionally and socially. He’s almost eleven. He could seriously be taken for a seven year old, if that. So this IEP in particular is freaking me out. I know we have to look forward. We have to talk about next year. We have to start working towards his next step. Happy IEP-idays to me.