Preschool Assessment

Today was Ty's assessment for special needs preschool. The first 20 minutes while various teachers are playing with Ty and I'm talking with the lead teacher about the program and she tells me over and over about how we won't have any answers today and it needs to be a team meeting with the school psychologist etc (doesn't happen till Jan) until we know if he qualifies etc. By the end of 1.25 hours she's saying. "I don't see any reason why he wouldn't qualify." Well no shit. Sing your tune lady. I think it's pretty easy to see after you are around Ty and I for a while that Ty has needs. I'm not an indulgent mother who never disciplines her kids, and waits on them hand and foot so they don't talk and have tantrums. I DO indulge, but I will lower the boom when I have to. Yes, I will take playdoh away when he's eating it. (she asked that...like I'm an idiot and just let him sit and eat a can of playdoh?) It however is hard to take the entire outside away from him (and Matty) when he's eating dirt. You know? He's an awesome kid. I can tell you his strengths and his quirks and his NEEDS. I can talk your sensory talk, and your "preferred activity" lingo because I don't do this as "a" job. I walk this road everyday lady. But she was nice. Really. She was clearly a great teacher and she realized pretty quick I knew what I wanted and what Tyler needed. By the end our EI therapist (who I invited to advocate for Tyler) was telling her how blessed a complex kid like Tyler was to have me as a mother, and I was bawling. I hate that. I hate it when others think I'm a saint for doing it. I don't do it for them, or anyone else, or care for one second if they think Tyler's life is so "full" because I'm his mom and I enrich his life in every way I can...of course I do that. I think it makes me cry because I want to believe that EVERY mother does that. I don't feel like I do enough, and I want to believe I'm the norm, not the amazing exception. Take your special needs kids to the playground. To me that isn't rocket science. It's not easy, but he's a kid. I don't care if he eats the mulch and everyone stares...he needs to go on the damn swings just like every other kid.

So Ty should start preschool in January right after his birthday. The people seem nice, but I'm just not sure what we'll do with ourselves while he's in school. We'll have no EI appointments? Crazy thought. Maybe Matty and I will just do a lot of grocery shopping.

They did however say how cute he was a million times, tell me that he had the most beautiful eyelashes ever, and say how they wanted to put him in their pocket. Our EI therapist laughed and said, "He sure is cute...I'm not sure on the pocket thing though. Maybe sometimes." and I added, "Yeah until he turns into the Tasmanian Devil." Judging Tyler by his eyelashes is about as smart as trusting him with a bucket of cookies because he tells you it's OK.