The IEP meeting is scheduled for 9:30am on Thursday. Seriously considering keeping him home until then, for his safety.
NOT.
HAPPY.
Friday, February 15, 2013
Houdini Lives
He made it all the way to the parking lot this time. A guidance counselor, arriving late for work, caught him and escorted him back to his class. The para doesn't come until 9, so she wasn't there yet. No one seems able to tell me what happened. In fact, I wasn't told until 3pm (I got the call just as we were arriving for Andy's therapy).
The IEP meeting is scheduled for 9:30am on Thursday. Seriously considering keeping him home until then, for his safety.
NOT.
HAPPY.
The IEP meeting is scheduled for 9:30am on Thursday. Seriously considering keeping him home until then, for his safety.
NOT.
HAPPY.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Going In With Solutions, Part the Third
I look down at the report card, then at the homework sheet. My brows are knit, so that my eyes are scrunched; it hurts. I stare at it.
"Joey? Simplify five-fifteenths."
"One third." There is not even a moment of hesitation, of processing, nothing- the answer is immediate.
I stare at the paper, marked 40-F. It is dated a week ago.
"Joey, what is 6/24?"
"One fourth." No pause. No blink of the eye. He's not even looking at the numbers, the audial processing isn't even road-bumping him.
"What is 1/8 plus 1/4?"
"3/8."
"What is 1/3 plus 1/6?"
"One half." He is getting slightly annoyed with me asking stupid questions.
"What is 3/15?"
"1/3."
"7/14?"
"1/2."
I keep this up as he puts on his coat, toss in some laughter to fool him into thinking it is a game, one we we have played since he could talk- the math problem game, the sudden barrage of math problems, increasingly complex, which still ornaments long car rides. The air is chilly. I am still clutching the failed papers, the report card that has a C+ in the math column, but the only comment, "Your child is a joy to teach!"
Must not be, since you don't appear to be actually teaching him.
"What is 3/18?"
"1/6."
"4/5 plus 1/5?"
"One."
"What is 4/76?"
He pauses for the first time, scrunches his brow and then grins.
"Mommy! That's silly!" I purposely picked the oddball numbers, but also know the answer is 1/19. The problem is too complex for him without seeing it, but he doesn't freak out, he makes his "I want a kiss" face. I oblige as the bus pulls up.
I have requested a copy of his school records. I'm going to make sure my ducks are in a row, and make some visuals, so that the team understands: we are out of time. If our IEP is failing, we need to fix it, immediately. And there is no excuse for this child to be getting a C in math.
"Joey? Simplify five-fifteenths."
"One third." There is not even a moment of hesitation, of processing, nothing- the answer is immediate.
I stare at the paper, marked 40-F. It is dated a week ago.
"Joey, what is 6/24?"
"One fourth." No pause. No blink of the eye. He's not even looking at the numbers, the audial processing isn't even road-bumping him.
"What is 1/8 plus 1/4?"
"3/8."
"What is 1/3 plus 1/6?"
"One half." He is getting slightly annoyed with me asking stupid questions.
"What is 3/15?"
"1/3."
"7/14?"
"1/2."
I keep this up as he puts on his coat, toss in some laughter to fool him into thinking it is a game, one we we have played since he could talk- the math problem game, the sudden barrage of math problems, increasingly complex, which still ornaments long car rides. The air is chilly. I am still clutching the failed papers, the report card that has a C+ in the math column, but the only comment, "Your child is a joy to teach!"
Must not be, since you don't appear to be actually teaching him.
"What is 3/18?"
"1/6."
"4/5 plus 1/5?"
"One."
"What is 4/76?"
He pauses for the first time, scrunches his brow and then grins.
"Mommy! That's silly!" I purposely picked the oddball numbers, but also know the answer is 1/19. The problem is too complex for him without seeing it, but he doesn't freak out, he makes his "I want a kiss" face. I oblige as the bus pulls up.
I have requested a copy of his school records. I'm going to make sure my ducks are in a row, and make some visuals, so that the team understands: we are out of time. If our IEP is failing, we need to fix it, immediately. And there is no excuse for this child to be getting a C in math.
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