Feels like I could cry

When the psychologist sat me down at my kitchen table and told me that my son had Autism, I wanted to cry. I don't recall that I did, and I think it's because I had a pretty good suspicion that he was on the spectrum. When the teachers from his preschool came to my house to write up our first IEP, I did cry. Knowing that all of that was necessary, that he couldn't go to school without mass amounts of paperwork and planning, it became clear to me that it would never be as simple as filling out the required enrollment forms, medical releases, etc. Nothing typical would be a part of much of pretty much anything- and so I cried.

I cried during an IEP meeting at school once, I think. It becomes confusing to me, because it has happened rarely. I cried when I had to pick Jack up from school, because he basically turned into a wild animal. I was totally overwhelmed, probably embarrassed, and even a little scared not knowing where things could possibly go from there. I also cried when the principal told me that I could not drop Jack off like I do Savannah. I would have to walk him to the front door of the school, and pick him up at the front door. This would be for his own safety. I had let the kids walk to the car, or whatever (I never let them walk to and from home by themselves), and so to me, this was a step backward. I tried to give Jack some independence, and the school was telling me they didn't think he could handle it. To me, I may as well hold my 3rd grader's hand right up to the classroom door. Yes, THAT made me cry.

I do cry at other times. What it boils down to is that I can't really control any of what is happening to Jack, or to my family. I don't want to say that his disabilities control us, but in a way, they really do. In those moments when we're most in its grip, the tears of frustration, sadness, and despair flow freely.

Last week, after what took place on Wednesday, my husband and I decided to really take a stand. We've both decided to move Jack in the Fall, though my husband has been pushing for a transfer much sooner. I decided that for myself, it would only make real sense to do that if things just got too bad. I had really hoped for the medication to even things out enough to get us through to the end of the school year. At home, they more or less have. At school is quite a different matter. The problem is the way they choose to handle him. They don't have a place that is safe enough in his mind to take a break for a few minutes when he needs them the most. Jack's options are either to be safe in a room where he spends most of his time being disciplined, or to come home. That's the bottom line. When they fail to create the space he feels most comfortable in, he can't bring himself back to a good place. This means he's not getting the same education as his peers. He has been pulled out probably the max number of days at this point to make a huge stink about it with the superintendent. We have decided to make a stink about it in a particular way.. we just have to see how things pan out in the next couple of weeks. It's going to be very stressful for me in the meantime, but I'm hoping and praying things work out the way that I feel will serve Jack best for the remainder of the school year.