Next Wednesday we have Jake and Tate’s IEP meetings. Because so much of the teams are the same, we are doing back-to-back meetings. You read that correctly. Hubz and I get to sit through (at least) 2 hours of IEP awesomeness. What a fun morning, huh??? To be fair, the boys’ teams are great. We know they work really hard with the boys, and that they are doing what they can with the resources that they have. In many ways they are blessings for the boys. We cannot complain.
Tate is struggling with some behaviors, but he is doing okay at school. For once, I’m not at all that worried about his IEP meeting. He is in a good place. His placement is correct, and he is benefiting from the way his subject matter is being taught. He’s learning, and when he struggles, his teacher regroups and figures out a different way to present the material. In addition, he has a great team of ABA therapists, and we are working together this year across school and home therapy. I definitely see progress.
Jake, on the other hand, has me all up in arms. I have had a few exchanges with Jake’s teachers that has my stomach in knots. I get a feeling in my gut that we are going to be asked to put Jake in a self-contained classroom. I asked for a draft of his IEP before our meeting and was told that they would try to get it to me, but that it’s a “work in progress”, so they aren’t sure if I’ll be able to get it in time. (Knot begins.) Then the note went on to say that he requires almost one-to-one attention to transition from activities. (Knot tightens.) Then the note mentions a script that he relies upon all the time. Sigh.
I asked about his attention and focus. Both are not nearly where they were last year. I asked about anxiety. The teachers noted that his anxiety is really high, especially over social studies and science, which are large parts of the fourth and fifth grade curriculum. (Knot expands to size of entire stomach.) The note ended with the fact that he requires a lot of attention and that they cannot give him all of the attention he requires. And how they want to work with us to get him the help he needs to succeed. (Knots form in my shoulders and neck as I tense up.)
So…yeah. That’s where we’re at right now. I feel like I’m going to throw up. I shed a few tears in frustration. I also exercised…but that did nothing to help. I have to run out and refill Jake’s medication prescription, wait for the doctor to call me back, and start reading more of my executive functioning materials. The biggest issue here is that I know Jake needs help..and I just don’t know how to do it. Mom fail.