One Giant Victory, Whole Lotta Meltdown

Ever since Winter Break of James' seventh grade, his school situation has gone from okay to bad, to awful to bring in a lawyer. I have been fighting and advocating extra hard for him for over a year. To have him do actual school work, instead of colouring book pages (no lie). For his teacher to show up to class so the aides did not have to try and make lesson plans. Actual speech therapy instead of lip service lessons. For his new aide to be an aide, instead of a babysitter. Inclusion in school field trips and back to school night (complete FAIL on that last one and the teacher showing up, BTW).

The new school district found the "best" school failing to comply with his IEP - no consistent aide for him at the new campus, no quiet places ... basically no accommodations at all for his 8th grade year. The principal zeroed in on him around and demanded in the first IEP meeting to have my son declared vicious and a danger to others. And that was with my lawyer sitting right there. To use current jargon, we couldn't even. All this while I was also dealing with the death of one close family member and another battling surprise stage 4 cancer, which not only impacted myself, but both my kids.

For James, I have been on a Mission to get him into a better school. The lawyer and I found one. It's a private school. After a saga of I Can't Even, the district offered placement there. Yowza!

Five programs. two school districts, and a private school later, James has finally landed in a program that is nurturing, supportive, and bursting with resources to help him be successful.

He lasted approximately 1.5 days of summer program before launching into testing behaviours. Throw in ABA services after dinner and starting at the same time as summer school, a week into recovery from two tooth extractions under sedation, and a being caught in a frigging ROCK FIGHT at our apartment complex ... and James wound up the week with Incidents on a school field trip: eloping into a road, trying to climb onto train tracks (miniature, and the train was not running), and hiding in the bathroom, not making good language choices.

Thanks, Autism Dad! 

These are the times I can't even cry. I just want to beat my head against the wall and repeat "no-no-no-no!!!" Until I can't think anymore. But I can't, because I have to finish work. Then be calm as I pick James up and talk with his teacher and deal with the meltdown stimming. All weekend long.

Laundry time exploded into swearing, plastic water bottle vengeance crushing, yelling sessions in the closet, screaming in the bathroom (with the fan on, like I would not notice), and, four hours later, clean laundry and many "sorry-sorry-sorry Mother"s.

But there were also fun trips to the Farmer's Market, seeing James enjoy spending his allowance at the Dollar Store, seeing people I don't know at the apartment complex smile at James and greet him with "Hi, James!" The good people who are always there somewhere in the public school arena. The calmness and positive attitudes at the new school. The lovely drive together to go look at the deer (fauns!) and vineyards.

And this week? Better. And so it goes.