The Good
This year Alex received a completely new i.e.p. He mastered all of the objectives from last year! That is such an awesome feat. He worked very hard through the summer to ward of any regression. He attended the six days of extended school year services that his school offered, and he worked an additional three days a week on a home program that I put together. Alex reviewed his old i.e.p. objectives regularly throughout the summer. He even stuck his toes into the water on a few new ones.
Alex is attending school on a different campus than he has for the past three years. His A.R.D. team met on October 4th at 8:30 am. I was very impressed with the other team members. They were all very professional, yet laid back. The diagnostician ran the meeting efficiently, but she was not pushy. Everyone in attendance gave their concerns, ideas, and praise for my child. The meeting was productive and pleasant.
The Bad
On the outside I wore a smile indicating my appreciation for their effort, my child's progress, the relief that we are all on the same page about our expectations of him, and simply that I don't have to ready for battle. On the inside I felt waves of emotion crashing against my heart. I replayed every word in my head listening for the "implieds" and "read between the lines" moments. I walked to the car with tears welling up in my eyes, but pushed it all down. I was raised in Oklahoma and now live in Texas-my southern ways tell me to dry it up, smile, and call and report to family and friends that I made it out alive. I cried later...a lot.
Its hard to wrap my head around all of the facets of autism that affect my Alex, much less go and discuss them with a team of professionals. I cry for relief that he is not more severe. I cry because of his level of severity. And I cry for the future. I know, and have even given the lectures of "God takes care of those who love Him", and "you can't overwhelm yourself with the future-you have to be here for him now"......but I still cry.
I once led myself to believe that I would grieve and make peace with not knowing what his future held. That's what works for me...meet the grief head on---hurt like crazy---and then move on. That method doesn't work here. Each year I am guaranteed a season to evaluate both where he is and where he is going academically, behaviorally, socially, and emotionally. In that season I am guaranteed to feel guilty, sad, confused, and lost. I drive myself crazy with thoughts of what I should hope for, what I should expect, and what kind of life does he want.
The Indifferent
Now that my three weeks of annual insanity are over, I must push away the fear and constant postulating. I am his mother, his advocate, his friend, his father's wife, and his siblings' mother. I need to be indifferent to the future. We have set a track and he needs me to run his race along side him.
And the Lord said to him, Who has made man's mouth? or who makes the dumb, or deaf, or the seeing, or the blind? have not I the Lord? Exodus 4:11
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28
I understand that God has a plan for His kingdom to be furthered by Alex's autism. I am still a mom and I get selfish and scared, but Matthew 11:28 is an invitation and a promise that is wonderful and true. I am able to give Him my anxiety and stress, and He allows me to feel the joy of Alex's accomplishments, and for me to be indifferent to the things I can't know about or fix right now.
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