When It Is OK To Believe

I have come across a very sad thing here in my little corner of the world: children who not only don't believe in Santa Claus, but tell others that he is dead. The parents of these children often are trying to move their children away from the consumerism they see in Santa Claus and towards a focus on Jesus in the holiday. See, these parents not only don't believe in Santa Claus, they don't even understand the point. They are themselves so caught up in the consumerism that they miss the real meaning of Santa Claus, and thus miss a wonderful way of turning their children to their spirituality and community in a way that children can readily grasp and believe.

If you believe in Santa Claus, you understand that St. Nicholas is about giving, not receiving.

You may remember that we're staunch Methodists (well, we believe in comfortable furniture and stuff, but there is no denying we're Methodist in a strain older than what I have seen in any of the Methodist churches I've tried around here, which seem very. very Baptist). We believe that God has given us many, many gifts: life, the world around us, friends and families and everything in wonderful Creation. He also gave us Salvation- that was a gift, and it is given, and it is up to us to appreciate it, be grateful for it, and remember to do our best with it. That idea of giving, of putting your best forth and giving to the world, spreading love and cheer and goodwill, that is what Christmas is for, celebrating God giving us this great Gift.

That is also what Santa Claus is trying to remind us to do. By giving without expecting any return, Santa gives us a model of being a giving person, a person who thinks of others and what they want, and tries to show love in ways others understand. It is a lesson that is often lost in translation as we succumb to the me-me-me of the adolescent age, and so many never seem to emerge from it.

Telling a child that Santa is dead is not only unfortunate, it dismisses the lesson he has to give us all, the very message of the joy of Christmas and of the Christ. It is the core of Christian belief, which is why St. Nicholas, patron saint of children everywhere, is so adored.

I believe in Santa Claus.

End of Semester

Sorry I am absent. I am tearing my hair out grading. Now school is called for snow. I'll be back when sanity resumes.

Ok, at least when I have a few more minutes to myself.

Our Adventure in President's Park

Yes, we did! We got tickets to the National Tree Lighting! And we had the most awesome seats- here we are watching the trains, and I can see our seats. Seriously. Totally awesome.

The boys liked the trains, but we didn't get to spend much time looking at them, because some official person threatened to "squish folks in" and take our seats from us if we weren't in them. At 3:30. According to the literature we had, we didn't have to be in our seats until 4:30. Besides, we weren't the only folks wandering around, or attempting to. But whatever. Mom waved us down in time for us to keep our seats.

Our adventure included a guest appearance by Stimey! So not only are we awesome enough to get tickets to the Christmas Tree Lighting, we are cool enough for Stimey to hang out with us. We rock.

So we took some photos of ourselves in front of the unlit tree while the daylight held out, and before we had to race back to our seats to keep some official person from letting someone else sit in them.

Joey and Andy were having a wonderful time, too. They were wonderfully good. Seriously. We pulled out a couple of our tricks from our bag, but they did the trick and kept everybody calm and having fun. I wish we had more time to look at the trains, though. They were digging them. If it warms up before Christmas, we might go back up just to see them. Or we'll wait until next year, if it is warmer.

Because you know what? It was Cold. Seriously. Cold. I was glad I thought to bring the tree hats. Not only did they get us on TV (woo-hoo!) but they are made of polar fleece, so they are nice and warm. And I thought to bring extra hats, extra gloves, extra scarves, and several blankets. All of which came in handy. Did I mention it was cold?

Yes, that is the beautiful and fabulous Stimey, and yes, our seats really are that close to the tree. It totally rocked.

We actually got to see the motorcade form in front of the White House, then pull away to come to the event (and joke about how he should have just walked, or used a Segway). I thought I took some film of it, but apparently, I didn't. :(

Did I mention I have a new camera?

So we waited for the dark to settle, the temperatures to plummet, and the president to show up. They started playing music for us about 4:30. The president showed up around 5. All in all, we did quite well.

I think they ought to have more ornaments on the tree, though. But that's just me. If you've ever seen my Christmas tree, you know I am not being facetious.



WE GOT TO SEE THE PRESIDENT!!!


When one sees a president, one is required to cheer loudly and take lots of pictures, and hope the zoom on the new camera works. I think it did pretty well. The film I took looks amazing, better than the photos, even.

They lit the tree around 5:15, which made us very happy, because we didn't feel obligated to stay. Did I mention it was cold?

And it was pretty awesome, too. It just comes right on, and we were suddenly aglow! What was also cool was the whole First Family lights it, including the First Grandma. And since we were also there with Grandma, we definitely appreciated that.

Joey did fabulously. We did have some games for him- a little handheld and my iPod (he loved tic-tac-toe and loves Angry Birds). He didn't even need his earphones.

Considering he sat in a car for an hour and a half, then in a line for half and hour, then in a seat for almost two hours (after walking calmly through a metal detector!), and then into a show that didn't really interest him until Santa appeared, I think he ought to be sainted for his behavior. He did awesome.

The First Lady read The Night Before Christmas, and that was fun for the guys. The little girls are adorable. I believe the other kids are from military families.

And did I mention Santa showed up?

That's when the guys really got into the whole tree-lighting thing. See the President? Oh, OK. Watch a 42-foot tree light up? Nice. Hey, look, there's Santa... WOWIE KAZOWIE, IT'S SANTA!!!!

This is Andy watching Santa. He also did great. They were both so patient and so, so, so good.

Before the show started, Andy discovered it was warm under the blanket, so he was playing under it and under the chairs like a little tent. He was adorable.

We watched B. B. King perform, then decided the boys were tired, cold, and hungry. And we were tired and cold. Did I mention it was cold?

So we bid farewell to our beautiful and adorable and wonderful Stimey, who I didn't get to really talk to much, and made our way to the exit. Only they had closed all but one of the exits, and the open one was not the one we entered through, so it took a long time for poor JoeyAndyDad to find us and pick us up. (He drove us up so we could get really close, to help out my mom). That was a bit of an adventure unto itself. But he did find us eventually, and we did thaw, and we'll see how the boys are feeling in the morning.

Overall, we had a wonderful time. How many times do you get to see the President and the lighting of the National Christmas Tree? And we got to see Stimey on top of that! Woo-hoo!

Merry Christmas!

Watch us on TV!

Wordless Wednesday: The Holidays are coming!

Preparing: The National Christmas Tree Lighting

Yes, I got tickets! Woo-hoo! We are going to go see President Obama! I am SO excited!

Of course, it's going to be the coldest December in years. Oh, and I already think D.C. is the coldest place on earth. And Security opens at 3, we have to be seated by 4:30, and the show doesn't start until 5. And I have an autistic child.

How does one get Joey through all that cold and waiting? What if he is overwhelmed by the concert, the crowd, the waiting?

So I am packing my special Success Kit:

A set of earphones and music player, loaded with Joey's favorite songs.
A Sensory Kit: fidget toys of various textures and chewy food items such as gummi bears and gum.
Scarf, Hat, Gloves spares. Extra socks.
iTouch with Angry Birds and Funny Bunny loaded.
Several chopsticks to use as air-writing sticks.


Anybody else have suggestions for the kit?

I hope they sell hot chocolate once we're there.

Echoes

I sit in a room full of parents, their children with various issues, various diagnoses, varying degrees of functionality and challenge, in a place where improving functionality and overcoming challenge is the goal. The clamor of chatter bounces about the room, parents trying hard to connect with other parents, sharing what works, what doesn't, what they see and how they feel. Certain refrains reach my ears.

"Once I took the gluten out, everything was better. He even looks at me now!"
"Oh, no, my child isn't autistic. He has PDD-NOS. It's a developmental delay."
"All those chemicals in vaccines! She's recovering from measles now, it wasn't so bad. How long? Oh, it's been about... eight weeks now. The school is starting to get fussy, but I don't want her to over-exert herself in PE..."
"The vitamins have been really helping! You should try it."
"Well, he focuses well enough when it's something that he likes. He'll watch that train in the grocery store for hours if I let him. He just doesn't like his schoolwork. What kid does?"
"The tae-quan-do has been amazing. He is so respectful now!"
"They want to teach her to sign, but if she signs, she won't speak, and who understands sign language in the real world?"
"I had to pull her out of school. It just wasn't working. Nobody wanted to really help, they just wanted to stick her in with a bunch of stupid special ed kids and let her rot."
"They want me to put him on meds, but I want him to learn to cope without them!"


I know these children. I have seen them once a week, some of them for six years, and started off seeing them two or three times in a week. I have seen them grow, and change, and suffer, and triumph. I have seen the hard work they do. The hard work their parents and grandparents and caregivers do. The hard work their siblings do.

They do what works for their families. And whether you agree or not (or I agree or not) with the comments I was hearing, or support their approaches or not, or wonder more about these children and wonder why these comments might have stood out in my head from the other jabber in the room... these are hard-working people, doing the best they can in a hard place.

I remember when I first found myself in this world of special needs and disabled children. I was shocked to find how I started off in a place of such utter ignorance. I'm an educated person. I had no idea. To find I had to come to terms with the needs of my child and the changes in my own life, that wasn't easy, and it wasn't quick. To actually come to terms, that wasn't easy or quick, either. We did try things, we spent hours researching things we had heard, theories handed to us. We went through the agonies of self-doubt, self-recrimination, the ugly side of discovering life isn't going to be as you expected it, as everyone assured you it would no doubt be- provided you did everything right, having it go this way, the wrong way, was a slim and distant possibility. The attitudes towards special needs kids and their families- the ignorance and venom of people who have no idea what it is all about, what it is like, can be overwhelming. Add in the venom of people who insist you should believe what they believe and do what they do within the special needs world itself, and it can be crushing.

Often I find people in these waiting rooms who are just reaching those terms. They go on about things they've tried. When I disagree with their approach, I often smile and nod and say, "how interesting, I'm glad that is working for you guys..." and then go on to note the latest triumphs the child has achieved, leaving why I think that challenge was overcome deliberately vague. I'm not there to add to the crushing weight of constant judgment.

I might note what worked for us. And some of those other parents smile and nod and say, "how interesting. I'm glad that is working for you guys..."

And that's OK. We'll all muddle through. It's good to listen. Sometimes there are new ideas to try, bouncing about a room of jabber.

Awareness: Child Abuse

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Another Day Off, Not Going As Planned, Rocks Anyway

Well, I got something done.

You know its not going to go as planned when you start your day off by falling down the stairs. I was clearing pumpkins off the front porch (we had quite a collection), when I tripped and fell down the back deck steps. Pumpkins went everywhere. I ran inside, took some advils, and got some frozen peas on my knees. A few hours later I realized my knees seemed fine, even though I fell on them, it was my hip that was complaining. So I put frozen veggies on that. Now I realize I jammed my back. Great. But all in all, it could have been a lot worse.

The plan for the day was getting Christmas stuff up, round one. Mantle, kitchen shelf, and possibly the first garland. Two of those activities required ladders, and getting on a ladder by myself, having just fallen down the stairs, was not appealing. I got the mantle up, no problem, and some other Christmas knick-knacks went out. Then I remembered one of the light strings on my kitchen garland (the one with the cookie cutters) was kaput. So I settled myself in to pull that all apart. I got it strung with new lights, wired all the cutters back on, and I actually got that up.

Two out of three ain't bad. I probably should have gotten some stitching done a that point, but I got these things done with intermittent other things happening- an impromptu meeting with a publishing client, an email from school saying Joey was having a bad morning, building a fire (hey, I'm downstairs all day in this chilly weather, I'm having a fire!), and... would you believe it? a nap.

And I watched four versions of A Christmas Carol. With the nap, I call that a rockin' day. The back steps be darned.

The Lastest on Alex Barton

Looks like we have a settlement.

Different Worlds

When I got off the plane and discovered I was in Holland, not Italy, I also found I was in a world of people who had the strength to adapt, to change, to go with where they were and what was happening around them. Oh, and people who just couldn't deal with the lemons life had handed them; but I found the folks making lemonade far more interesting. And then I discovered there were people handed lemons who made wine (the good sparkling sweet stuff) and just let everybody wonder how they did it. Amazing people. And their parents.

Nik is about to be seven. So is Jack-Jack. I think about these little guys, as well as many other children of my readers, every single day. But these two of are interest right now, because it sometimes occurs to me that both of them are older than Andy. Not by much- a few months- but older. And I think of these little guys, and I think of my Andy, and I think, sometimes life ain't fair.

These three little guys are hard-working, courageous souls. Yet the challenges they face, so very different, just aren't fair. Nik is starting to say words, using his new iPad, working hard to learn to self-regulate and communicate. Every new skill is so hard-won. Every day is so hard-won. I check often with bated breath, lest I find he is in the hospital again, knowing how hard that little guy works, how hard his folks work to support and help him. Jack is able to scoot about, is learning to use signs and sounds to communicate, working hard to be able to understand his environment and how the world works. Every skill is hard-won, every day hard-won. Every time I talk to his mom, I prepare to hear he had a trip to the ER for a seizure, knowing how hard his folks work to support not only him, but his older brothers who are also seriously disabled. Both of these little guys are trying to hard to survive, while working so hard to thrive.

Folks who don't live with these families in their lives have no idea how hard these kids work. How much energy goes into getting to another day. It's not fair.

Andy's challenges are very different. His life is not on the line with every breath he takes. Yet he fights his own battles, ones that he shouldn't have to fight.

I awakened yesterday to a battle raging downstairs, screams of unhappiness rising up the stairwell. It was odd, they usually play together nicely in the morning now. I sprang up to intercede, and found the problem was about sticks. Joey is very fond of his sticks, which he uses for air writing, and has them about the house. Andy is also fond of sticks, which he uses as most children do: swords, guns, magic wands, whatever strikes his fancy. Apparently Joey wanted a long, thin stick Andy had, instead of the shorter (but still pretty long), thicker stick in his hand. He was screaming that Andy has stolen his stick. Andy was upset because he hadn't stolen the stick (for once), but it was one he had gotten from the yard the day before. In trying to be fair, there was little I could do other than inspect the stick and note that it was, indeed, the one Andy had fetched from the yard the day before- which, of course, settled nothing. Assuring Joey he could go out and get a similar stick was of no avail. Offering Joey another stick was useless. Joey's autism means he needs this stick, right now. Wrapping his brain around getting a similar stick was not working, especially with all the upheaval from the holiday. Meltdown was immanent.

Suddenly Andy looked down at the stick, and over at Joey, and at me, and held the stick out to Joey. "Let's trade, Doey," he offered. When this was amenable, Andy then reinforced the trade by noting the longer stick would write better, and the thicker stick made a better sword. But if you were there, you'd know that Andy did not want to trade sticks. He wanted his stick, but he knew. He could see the immanent meltdown as well as I could, heard the desperation in Joey's voice, the change of pitch that took it beyond a squabble. As long as it was a squabble, Andy held his ground. When it started turning into something else, he came up with a solution- one that got him all sorts of kisses and hugs and praise from his mom, who offered to get him another stick from the yard.

But it wasn't fair.

Thanksgiving

Yes, we had a nice, quiet Thanksgiving. We prepped. We cooked. We were uber-ready.

The boys were good, patient, and actually entertained themselves for a good chunk of time. Grandma just cleaned her basement, revealing a lovely concrete floor- perfect for chalking. I found some of JoeyAndyDad's old Star Wars figures (mine are mysteriously missing), so Andy was thrilled. We brought Joey's computer with us, making him happy. We even got them both to come in to the living room to see Santa arrive in Herald's Square! They were very excited about eating turkey and stuffing and potatoes, and Andy even had shrimp. Yummy.

The bird this year was 27 pounds. It took about 5 1/2 hours to cook. The last hour, I slapped bacon on top. Yummerific. We discovered the bacon trick a couple years ago, when I found a bacon turkey online and slapped bacon on the turkey as a joke for JoeyAndyDad. It turned out to be really super delicious. I also tried a new sweet potato casserole this year, which turned out pretty good.

Evan arrived in the early afternoon; he had to work until early in the morning. Unfortunately, he also has to work tomorrow, so he didn't get to stay over, which means we didn't get to drink and I don't have updates on all the books he's read, and the headache I sported most of the day meant we didn't get to talk much. But we all watched some football and The Empire Strikes Back. Watching a Star War movie is getting to be a tradition when Evan comes. I bet we see Return of the Jedi on Christmas. Which would be awesome. I'll be sure to grill him about his reading, too. He always reads interesting books.

The fun part was he arrived in a garbage truck. He's working for a company that picks up and hauls garbage, and he got to use the truck. Joey was thrilled to see a garbage truck up close, though we didn't have time for a ride. Maybe next time.

So, I'm thinking turkey casserole for dinner tomorrow. And the next day. And possibly the day after. It was a pretty big bird.

Meeting #... oh, Whatever!

I don't remember how many we're up to now. Today's joyous episode included the Director of Student Services, the Autism Coordinator, and Joey's School Principal, along with me and my mom.

We laid it out: Joey received failing test scores for the nine weeks' grading period, and is not achieving sufficient progress on any of his IEP goals. He is not receiving appropriate OT support because the OT is incompetent; she stated clearly at the last IEP meeting that there was nothing she could do for Joey, and insisted on a once-a-month consult status instead of direct service. Here we are in crisis, and where is this lady?

I think if one more admin person tells me this is the school OT, take her or leave her, I am going to shut the meeting down and call a lawyer. How much evidence do you have to have of a person not providing appropriate service to your child before you can go around and get someone in who can provide appropriate support? If you have a teacher who says "I cannot teach this child", shouldn't the school then immediately provide a different teacher, so that the child receives a free and appropriate public education? Why should it be any different for an OT? Or any school personnel?

Autism resource room for next fall? Great. What do we do until then?

Train the OT? Ok... and what do we do until she is appropriately trained, or a new one is hired?

How do you get across to people that these things needed to be done weeks ago? It is now too late to be thinking about prepping. He's here. Now. And drowning. Fast.

Happy Thanksgiving Week!

Today, I am thankful for my mom.

If I am feeling sad, lonely, anxious, weird, grumpy, scared, angry, out-of-sorts, and higgledy-piggledy, I can go to my mom and feel better. She has the best hugs, the best smiles, and the comfiest shoulder. Plus, we have good taste in shopping.

If I am feeling happy, silly, joyous, excited, thrilled, proud, giggly, and bouncy, I can go to my mom and share it with her, making everything fifty times better.

And if I show up at her house utterly exhausted, she lets me take a nap.

I love you, Mom. Thanks for being my Mommy.

(I'd post a picture, but she hates having pictures of her online.)

Here Come the Holidays!

Don't forget us in your holiday shopping! The JoeyMom shop is open!

CHARGE!!!

So I walked into my meeting today- with Joey's principal- with a list of demands in hand. Because this is getting really frickin' ridiculous. And I'm getting really, really tired of Joey coming home so upset and frustrated that he tries to jump in front of moving cars.

I walked out with several items Joey needs being ordered Monday morning (because they want to make sure they are ordering everything they think they might want to try); a meeting set up next week with the Director of Student Services about getting an autism resource room and teacher for Joey's school AND a competent OT for Joey right now; and the principal is going to have the teachers reconsider the lack of safe space in one of the classrooms Joey is in. Oh, and because Joey has been running to the principal's office, he is thinking about just setting up a corner in his office for Joey to run to, thus making Joey's paths more predictable when he bolts.

Yeah, things are looking like they might be in motion at last. The biggest thing is not if there will be an autism room, but when, and what we do for Joey in the meantime.

If I Ran The Zoo

When I win the Big Lottery, I am opening a school. It will be open to anyone who wants specialized and individualized instruction for their kids. It will have a good size campus, with the main area fenced (but plenty of other space to explore as needed). The staff will include teachers with specialized training in a variety of needs and abilities, a small army of well-trained paraprofessionals, fully trained administrative staff (not just in administering, but also in the needs and abilities being served by the school). It will include a number of specialized spaces, such as OT gyms and specialized classrooms, as well as more flexible spaces which can be opened or divided as the students grow and change. On-staff will also be specialized support staff, including a contingent of occupational, physical, speech-language, communication, behavioral, and mental health therapists.

In other words, each child will have a team of experts working with the family and the child to determine what is needed, what is wanted, and how to best support and teach the child. Since this school is not just for "special needs kids", there will be opportunities for education in a wide variety of settings and environments.

The school will include residential opportunities, so academic instruction timing can be tailored to the child. Do you have a little one who is a night owl? Cool. Is morning their best moment? Great. Do they prefer to sleep late and get things done in the afternoon? Lovely. Working around sleep issues and those little nappers? No problem.

The school will also offer opportunities for families who decide to send their child to "regular" schools: before-care, after-care, etc. These students will be evaluated for needed supports and additional instructional needs (academic, social, functional, etc) so that their needs for instruction are incorporated into their individualized program, and they are treated as students, not just as warm bodies (as they might be in a daycare or "regular" before- or after-care).

The programs will take into consideration the interests of the individual children, using strengths and interests to spur learning and overcoming challenges. Staff will understand how to use, say, Pokemon to teach math and history.

The school will teach 7 days per week. If you wish to take your child out on specific days, that will be worked into you child's individual program, but consistency is considered key. It will also meet year-round. Taking your child out for vacation- and when, and for how long- is up to the family and the needs of the child. Staff will be available to provide home support for families, so go ahead and leap on that opportunity to take your kids to see Grandma, or go to DisneyWorld.

The curriculum will include a number of things seen as beneficial generally, but that are not usually offered in public schools. Sign Language will be part of the general curriculum, just as many schools now teach Spanish. Instruction will include lessons on respect, human diversity, kindness, and being thoughtful and considerate of others. Social skills will be part of the actual, planned curriculum for all students, tailored to their needs. Families will be offered the option of having religious or spiritual instruction for their children. Cultural instruction will be another important facet of the curriculum.

Transition into the "real world" starts from when you begin at the school. A child's strengths and aptitudes will be considered and encouraged from the start. The school will provide a variety of avenues to employment or further education, based on the needs and desires of the student. Apprenticeships, mentoring, vocational instruction, self-advocacy instruction, fieldtrips and fieldwork opportunities, etc. will be available for experimentation and support of the child right from the start. Your budding paleontologist at age 6 might strike up and interest in other kinds of detail-oriented logic-heavy fields of interest by the time they are 20; but encouraging them to explore logic and focus using dinosaurs at age 6 is a great way to introduce them to wider opportunities by the time they are 20.

Age is not a deciding factor for when they will graduate for our school. Hopefully by the time the kids who enter our kindergarden reach the age of 18, our school will have garnered support and funding to open higher learning opportunities to continue to support the needs and instruction of our students. However, focusing on educating all the students who come to us, we know that we will have students who will require support for learning independence and functional skills beyond their 22nd birthday. That will not be considered a problem at all. We will hopefully continue to instruct and offer support for our students well into their adult lives, even those without "special needs".

However, the goal is to teach these children to support themselves independently, to effectively self-advocate, and to be able to hone their own skills and interests as adults. The vast majority of our students would leave us after they complete high-school level education to satisfaction, and go out into the world.

But hopefully, they will be stronger, better people for having spent their precious childhood days with us, in an environment that understood and supported them, and taught them how to understand and support themselves.

Mama Bear Growls

I have a meeting with the teachers set up for tomorrow. I've warned them that I want to know exactly what they think they need to meet Joey's needs.

I have a meeting with the principal on Friday. This is where I will present said needs and those I feel are not being met, and how I expect them to be met.

Then I am going to come home and call the Director of Student Services, so I can provide them with an earful of exactly what I think of Joey's current educational program, with his report card to back me up.


Growl.

Nik's IPad: Chip In!

WE DID IT!!!!

Thank you to everyone who contributed to Nik's iPad!

Merry Christmas, NikFamily!

The Difference Support Makes

Last spring, we designed Joey's big IEP for the school year. IEPs here are now not school year-to-school year, but are to cover 12 months from implementation. This wasn't a big issue, as Joey had mastered his goals from his previous IEP, so he was ready for new goals and new work. So we thought hard about where we thought he could go between April and April, and wrote it up.

I admit we've had some setbacks since then. Joey's mental health deteriorated significantly. The result was a huge explosion in behaviors to communicate that deterioration, the most significant being downright dangerous. We have had to put a lot of energy into getting him settled in his new school after the disastrously inappropriate summer program. However, all those problems were rooted in poor transition planning and implementation; in other words, lack of appropriate support.

Now we are in a school with no autism specialist, no resource room, none of the things that made Joey's school experience work for him. His teachers are busting their butts trying to figure out how to help him; but that also means they are not spending all the energy on actually helping, they have to spend it on thinking, experimenting, and reinventing the wheel.

I just saw Joey's first official report card. His midterm reports were pretty good, all A's on his academic subjects (which we thought a little odd, to be honest, considering that the teachers were telling us they hadn't been able to provide him any instruction due to behavior issues).

The new C's were not the most startlingly telling thing about this report, however. It was the IEP.

When you have an IEP, part of it is a section evaluating progress towards the goal. The scores are M (mastered), SP (sufficient progress made to complete the goal on time), ES (emerging skill, but may not meet the goal on time), IP (insufficient progress to meet the goal on time), and NI (no instruction provided).

For the May and June reports, where he was in his old school with all his supports, everything was SP.

For the September and November reports, none of them are. NONE. We even have an NI. Two ES. Mostly IP.

That, my friends and readers, is the difference support makes. Remember this as you go into your IEPs, your teacher conferences (even with your non-disabled children), your meetings and plannings and everything else. Support=success. Without it?

IP.