Well, that went better than I thought...

Ever since my WINK was diagnosed with Aspergers, I've dreaded the day DAD and I would have to tell him. Ironically, he knows SMILE has autism. SMILE will grow up knowing that he has autism. I proudly advertise that my six year old, the one over there simultaneously spinning, nodding, and clapping his hands, has autism.  But I had struggled with the idea of talking about WINK's Aspergers diagnosis. I've always been equally proud of my amazing older son but I was afraid, because of his age, that WINK would be more apt to think something is "wrong" with him instead of concentrating on what is so overwhelmingly right.

And then, right in the middle of my mother-in-law's living room, WINK looked up at me and asked me to explain, again, what autism is.  I did.  He asked if SMILE would ever not have autism. I said, no, SMILE would always have it but he would learn to handle his emotions differently. He pondered this and announced that he believes SMILE is "losing his autism" because he is sharing more and yelling less. I hugged my little professor/sage for being so insightful and told him that I thought he was right.

And then, with perfect eye contact, WINK bluntly asked, "Do I have autism?" 

I've never wanted to lie more. But I looked into his huge eyes and...waffled. "Do you think you do?" I asked.
        "I don't know. Do I have autism?" When I hesitated again, my beautiful eight year old amazed me by saying, "It's confusing isn't it?"
        "Yeah, WINK," I sighed, "it is a bit." And, yet again, my heart swelled with pride and empathy for my son. I prayed quickly that he would take the news well, smiled, and said, "...Yes. You do."  

I waited a few moments and asked him how he felt. He seemed to consider the question and said, finally, "happy."

I'll never know what emotions he felt, if any, in those moments. It's possible that his rational mind processed the information like it was nothing more than a puzzle to solve or a case of scientific cause and effect. He could have been simply giving me what he thought was the best answer. It's common with Aspergers children to try to say the "right" thing. He could have been thinking, Answering "happy" has yielded good results in the past, so...why not try it again? But it's also possible that he felt relieved to have an honest, straight forward answer. I'd like to believe that.

"But," I added, "Your type of autism is called Aspergers." His eyes lit up and he covered up his smile and bulging cheeks. "It sounds funny, right?" He giggled. "I know," I said, "It sounds like I should order you at a diner with a side of fries."

He dissolved into a laughing fit. It wasn't THAT funny. I really should have seen this next part coming: When he calmed down enough to talk, my glorious, very much an eight year old boy, declared, "I have 'ass-burgers!'"  Over and over again.

We've never spoken of it since. DAD and I have asked, but WINK doesn't have any questions.  Slightly shell-shocked, I've moved on, too. Telling him was the right thing to do.  But I still have never wanted anything to be less true.

Deep breath

Once again, I have worried myself SICK over nothing. Today's IEP meeting went very well. SMILE won't qualify for an aid in the classroom but the speech therapist and the occupational therapists can "push in" to the classroom (which, I know know, means they will spend time with him in the classroom a few times a month to better gauge his progress). I mentioned that I'm concerned about certain social aspects- I saw SMILE try to initiate dialogue during center time but none of his group mates responded to him- and they will start to address that as well. Soon, SMILE will be able to take  classroom friends with him to some speech sessions so that  they can get to know the little guy behind the strange looking behavior.

Funny thing is, after it was all done, I turned to the BSC who put me in a panic two weeks ago and said, "That went much better than I thought."  Her reply? "Oh, I know you were afraid that they would pull him out of the mainstream class, but I knew you had nothing to worry about."


!!!!!!!!WHAT?????

"My son has an IEP and I'm not afraid to use it"

I'm very nervous about an upcoming IEP meeting (IEP stands for Individual Education Plan) at the boys' school.  This one is for my little SMILE. I've been to bunches, they're pretty routine, but this one will be different. I'm pretty sure the IEP team (teacher, occupational/speech therapist, principal, rep from the special ed branch of our school district) will recommend removing SMILE from the mainstream classroom for next year.

What I THINK that means is that they will want to give SMILE time in the "resource room" (the PC term for what was "the trailer" in my day) every day.  The rationale for this will be that SMILE loses focus easily, needs a lot of verbal prompts to complete tasks, and struggles to complete four step assessments- that almost always involve tasks he isn't confident in like using scissors, coloring, and writing- while in independent learning centers (the teacher isn't working with that group) at the same rate as his classmates. The resource room, I'm pretty sure they will argue, will give him an opportunity to work at his own pace.

But...SMILE is meeting his academic standards and exceeding some. The little cutie knows his stuff. Why, I'm pretty sure I'll argue, isn't SMILE getting alternate assessments (a worksheet with only two steps that doesn't have such a strong emphasis on fine motor skills, for example) every day in class? Won't taking him out of class so he can spend his time cutting pictures out of magazines or shapes from the bottom of the page be a waste of his time since he already knows the content knowledge (in this case, phonics) the assignment is trying to reinforce? I'm not suggesting that handwriting and scissor skills aren't important (although most adults use computers and I can't recall the last time I HAD to make a collage or a snowflake), but SMILE already goes to occupational therapy for fine motor skill deficits. Why can't he just work to improve them there and at home?  Isn't it feasible that, over time, he could fall behind academically because of all the actual teaching time he'd be missing? Sure, he may learn to be a scissors master but that doesn't seem to be a fair trade-off.

So, I'll have to see.  SMILE's IEP team may be supportive.  SMILE's present and future teachers may be willing to try a high number of in-class modifications and alternate assessment tools. They may all see him as I do: an amazingly bright little boy who will try hard for you if you try hard for him.  And then again...

I just found out this afternoon that my request to observe SMILE in class before the IEP meeting has been approved. That's a good sign since parents aren't typically allowed to do so. I, at least, feel assured that they are ready to accommodate me. 

...And I think they know it's only the beginning.