I belong to an online twins site. One of our forums is entitled :Here in Holland.” It’s a forum for those of us who have children with special needs of any sort. I always perused the forum to see what was going on with my TCO friends who frequent the forum.
As of Tuesday, I am officially a part of that forum. We had Ryan’s official IEP meeting on Tuesday. He’s been getting both speech and what they call special services. The special services he has been receiving is simply a special education teacher coming in 3-4 times a week to help teach him strategies to cope with certain situations that may arise. She also tries to help him stay organized. They have been pulling back the services from the special ed teacher in an effort to see if he can function without her in the classroom. The goal is to arm him with the tools he needs (things like check lists, which he does great with!) and see how he does implementing them on his own. So far so good. If he can function with these tools and no support, he won’t need that support over at the elementary school next year. If we find, in the next couple of months that he needs the services again, they will be put into his IEP in May. Right now, though, he’s been classified as a student with a speech and language impairment. There were several times during the meeting that I wanted to break into tears. Not because anything bad was said, but because they had such praise for Ryan and the progress he’s made since they did his intake eval last Jan. It was so heartwarming to hear all the wonderful things they had to say about him (Zach, too!) and about us. I honestly can not thank any of those people enough for what they have done for him. It has been a difference we’ve seen here at home, too, not just in school.
Our next meeting will be in May, over at the elementary school. That way, his teacher, speech therapist, etc can meet with the incoming people who will take over. I think, at that point, I’m going to ask for those special service to help him in his transition. He is very apprehensive about leaving his teacher and his classmates, all of whom he’s been with since we moved here last January. I’ve been trying to hype up how great 3rd grade will be: they get their own lockers, he’ll make new friends (he’s good at making friends), etc. He’s just such a creature of habit, and thrives on routine, and doesn’t like change that I can see how he’d be a bit scared.
I wanted to share a poem with you all.
Welcome To Holland
By Emily Perl Kingsley
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability-
to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience,
to understand it,
to imagine how it would feel.
It’s like this….
When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip-
to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans..
The Coliseum.
The Michelangelo David.
The gondolas in Venice.
You may learn some handy phrases in Italian.
It’s all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off
you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says,
“Welcome to Holland.”
“Holland?!?” you say. “What do you mean Holland? I signed up for Italy! I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy.”
But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease.
It’s just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It’s just a different place. It’s slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around… and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills…and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy…and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say, “Yes, that’s where I was suppose to go. That’s what I had planned.”
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away…because the loss of that dream is a very, very significant loss.
But…if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things …
about Holland.
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