Walking to the bus (the day after the IEP)

walking to bus

I had a kind of a sad night. If you’ve read Ken Moses and the cyclical nature of grief of parents of kids with disabilities, you get it. (If you haven’t, I’m not sure we can be friends.)

Aidan’s IEP was actually just fine (come on, I do this for a living!). I met his dad at his school, we’d been mostly emailing about things since we both had a busy week. Aidan’s home-based ABA supervisor there as well as the school BCBA and they compared notes and talked shop. Aidan’s having another obsession with ankles/feet (that’s another post).

We quickly agreed to vital things: gen ed time, implementing his Iphone into his academic goals as an AT device so that he uses it more functionally as an organizing tool/memory aid/reminder/calendar, and looked over results from a latest test. We told them to send the final paperwork home–because we all know that after an IEP, finding the printer AND making it work can be a 2-4 hour job (not kidding). I told them that our IEP response letter to attach to it would be forthcoming. As I instruct my clients to do.

While the latest testing results were good overall, there was a section (or two) that made it hard for me to swallow, the lump in my throat was so big. The funny thing is, my ex-husband exclaimed “Yup! That sounds like him!” Years ago that would have caused a huge fight or an attack (me on him). It ended with me saying “While we are mostly in agreement, we will review one last time and email you pertinent questions tonight.” Which was to the point, unemotional, fair, and logical. Right.

On the way home I had a ton of Latina Mami errands to run and even went by two places, but I just couldn’t get out of the car. Aidan’s dad had taken him to therapies so I had the afternoon free and when I walked in, the house was strangely quiet. I fell asleep with the latest assessment beside me. I didn’t wake up till my husband called me. I looked at the test results while we were on the phone then pushed them under my pillow.

Johnny came home and took us out to Folliero’s, in our neighborhood. There was a wait but I grabbed a waiter and explained as Aidan–who’s as tall as me–was giggling and hugging me and all over the place: “Hey, he has a disability and he can’t wait too long without a tantrum and can we just SIT?” and all of a sudden we had a table and were being served.

An older couple kept staring at Aidan’s jerky movements and squeals as we ate. But they seemed mostly curious and not malicious, and I (usually) only cause a scene for the latter.

When we got back,  Johnny and Aidan fell asleep and once again the house was quiet. Now today, the day after the IEP, it’s back to work and of course I woke up and there were more lumps in my throat.  But Aidan smiled on his way out the door when I kissed him and said “Yes Internet!” to which I said “NOO Internet.”. He basically just shrugged and went on his way down the drive to his bus. Just another day for him.

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