IEP
We had Jake's second to last IEP meeting yesterday. They want him in a full day autism class, with mainstreaming for 'specials' (that's art, music, PE), and a goal for slowly mainstreaming him where it's appropriate. He'll also be getting speech therepy and physical therepy once a week. The physical therepy is to help him with some of his odd habits he has with grasping things.
I was quite happy with the results. I called Adam, shared, and he was happy. I called my mother.
She was not happy.
"What happened to a half day of kindergarten and a half day of special help?"
"That was before he had all the testing done. We feel this is more appropriate now."
"But... Have you seen other Autistic children? Some of them don't even talk! What if he's put in with children like that?"
"There's bound to be children below him in a classroom, but from what I know, they're slotting the classrooms so that the children are at about the same level."
"You need to fight this. You need to fight harder for him."
The problem lies in that she doesn't see Jake outside of his comfort zone. She doesn't see him when his language totally disintegrates, and he's left with only random words he shoots out in hopes of one hitting. It doesn't help that she thinks any relationship I have with the school has to be an adverserial one, and that they will always be out to stuff Jake in a closet and forget him.
By the end of the conversation, she had at least backed off a bit, and did accept that I've been the one to sit through the testing, the forms, the meetings, the assessments, and to do the research, so hey, maybe I know what the fuck I'm talking about.
I was quite happy with the results. I called Adam, shared, and he was happy. I called my mother.
She was not happy.
"What happened to a half day of kindergarten and a half day of special help?"
"That was before he had all the testing done. We feel this is more appropriate now."
"But... Have you seen other Autistic children? Some of them don't even talk! What if he's put in with children like that?"
"There's bound to be children below him in a classroom, but from what I know, they're slotting the classrooms so that the children are at about the same level."
"You need to fight this. You need to fight harder for him."
The problem lies in that she doesn't see Jake outside of his comfort zone. She doesn't see him when his language totally disintegrates, and he's left with only random words he shoots out in hopes of one hitting. It doesn't help that she thinks any relationship I have with the school has to be an adverserial one, and that they will always be out to stuff Jake in a closet and forget him.
By the end of the conversation, she had at least backed off a bit, and did accept that I've been the one to sit through the testing, the forms, the meetings, the assessments, and to do the research, so hey, maybe I know what the fuck I'm talking about.