Go With It

My girl has been in our school system since she was 3.

Let me be clear.

THREE.

She received services from the Early Intervention program and then when she turned 3 years old, she was handed off to our local school district.  I took her to school that 1st day.  It was in the middle of the school year because of where her birthday fell.   The teacher was a dynamic woman who had the attention of every 3 and 4 year old in her care.  She walked them through the halls singing a song, and they followed her along like little ducklings.  When the group got to the classroom door, Nea walked in right with her duckling friends and did not shed one tear.  I was shocked.  The teacher just smiled and said, "Let's just go with it.  She'll be fine."

And it was that experience that set the tone for my expectations on how school life should be for her.

It was that summer that we did our first IEP.  An intimidating experience, but I learned much.  I brought my "Nea experts" with me (her OT, DT, Speech therapists) and the team made a plan.  That entire team that consisted of roughly 15 people made a plan that would give Nea the best success in school.

1st year at the early learning school

We've had several IEP's since that first one.  And I know that for many people, they are a harrowing experience and full of frustration.  Both for parents and teachers alike.  In my honest opinion the system works against everyone who is trying to do the right thing for a child.  It's not a political post, so I'm going to leave that right here.   :-)

We spent 2 wonderful years in our early learning center with an amazing staff of teachers.  Nea really blossomed there.  Every week she would say new words, her jargon speech eventually vanished, she could retell stories, she talked about friends....and on and on.  I am always grateful  for her time spent there as I think it built her a very strong foundation.

Moving to the Big K was a tough IEP meeting.  Nea was doing well academically, but needed assistance with focus, with redirection and with social cues.  We labored a long time trying to find the right place to put her.  We finally landed on a Cross- Cat (cross category) classroom.  This was a special needs classroom of K-2nd graders with a special education teacher.  The unknowns were too many for the IEP team to put her in a mainstream Kindergarten class.  Could she handle the stress of it?  What about the noise?  How would she manage the hustle and bustle?  We just couldn't wrap our heads around something we thought might be setting her up for failure.  So we decided to put all the safety nets in place and put her in this cross-cat classroom.  She still had her Speech Therapy and her OT alongside.  We also decided she could benefit from being in that mainstream K class- so we put her in there 1 hr a day.

Nea had a good school year.   We were very pleased with her progress.  We ran into a couple social snafu's the last  4 months of the school year, which made it unpleasant for everyone.  We worked closely with the teacher of course, but those last few months were a bit rough.  And we heard a lot of "I don't want to go to school today."

Penguins on a zoo field trip!

Her IEP came up in the Spring to decide what was going to happen in the Fall.  Again the team all came together to decide what the plan should be.  Without a doubt, everyone felt that she should be in a mainstream classroom and a chance at different academia.  And in the same breath we all worried if she could handle it or not.  Could she handle the stress of it?  What about the noise?  How would she manage the hustle and bustle?

She was doing well in Math, but still was behind in writing and reading.  Clearly those were the areas we needed to give her extra help.  Could we put her in a mainstream classroom with some extra help?  So we gave her resource minutes for those pieces to her school day.  Her time in OT was done at the end of the year last year, but she still requires speech therapy.  Even with all these safety nets in place, we all hesitated.

It all looked very familiar to me.  Even though this was an entirely different team of people (teachers, therapists, social worker, psychologist, etc.)  they were all saying the same thing I heard around a different table.   I jumped in...

"Guys...this is the exact place the team at the early learning center was at last year.  We went a little bit of a safer route.  It paid off of course, but here we are again."

Someone else chimed in...

" We won't know if she can do it, unless we give her the chance to show us."

Someone else said,

On the School Playground

"She's eager to learn, we just need to give her a few extra pieces"

And then, a teacher said....

"Ok! Let's just go with it."

That took me right back to that day I left my 3 year old with her very 1st teacher whom I didn't know, but had to believe I was doing the right thing.   It reminded me that letting Nea take the lead on so many aspects in her life usually turns out better than ever imagined.

The energy in the room changed.  There was lots of joy and excitement....

"I think she can do it!"

" I think she's got it in her!"

"This is a great plan!  It's the right thing!"

"She'll do well!"

So Nea starts in a mainstream classroom, with lots of reasource minutes for the areas she has difficulty.  It's a large group of kids this year, which I'm not going to lie...has me worried.  However, if we decide it's too much for her- the plan is to put an aide with her.  The aide can help her focus, keep her on task, assist if she gets overwhelmed, etc.

Nea is excited to start school.  She gets to go back to the same school AND (bonus points!) she already knows the teacher.  That 1 hr a day she spent in mainstream K.....that same teacher is going to teach 1st grade.  That's a wonderful thing and I hope an indicator of a smooth year!

The homework will be very different, the pace will be very different, the social interactions of NT kids will be very different.    I believe she can handle it or I wouldn't have allowed it to happen- but it doesn't mean I'm not a nervous wreck.

1st grade.  There are just no words.