The things we all have to endure

Oct. 17, 2010

A few months back at a job interview, I was asked to describe the best boss I had and what made him/her great. Without much hesitation, I talked about some of my previous supervisors (I never really felt like they were ‘bossy’) who believed in me and my skills, even when I didn’t believe in myself. If I needed training, they provided it, if I needed encouragement, they were there. In the end, I was able to produce the product they looked for and knew I had it in me.

This week, I felt that same type of feeling again. This past Monday Annette, Nathan and I endured his annual IEP (Individualized Education Program.) (As a special-need parent, I think I'm obligated to use the word 'endured' when talking about an IEP.) This is the annual meeting to set the therapy and educational goals for a child, needing specialized care in some facet of development.

They can be nerve-racking meetings, as it’s the biggest chance for everyone to voice their concerns, expectations, ideas, resources, facilities and limitations for the next 12 months. I think that mothers often fret and fear these meetings more than fathers, just due to their protective nature and wanting the most for their child. It’s hard to explain what type of feelings I have/had preparing for these meetings, but right or wrong I can’t honestly say I’ve lost any sleep over preparing for it.

One reason I think I’m more laid back (I’m sure Annette has a lot more than one reason concerning me) is since I take Nathan to and from school everyday, I have a lot more interaction with all of the teachers, therapists, helpers, etc., and I also get to see how Nathan reacts with everyone listed above as well as the other students.

Nathan’s class this year is almost the carbon-copy of what it was last year. It’s a different room, but almost all the students are the same, as are the therapists, and teacher. We are very fortunate to have such a great staff to work with, and Nathan loves it whether he’d admit it or not. There’s very little places for him to hide or play possum like he could with other teacher changes and different kids to do things for him. Even the student helping the PT is the same student who shadowed us last year for two quarters.

In the days leading up to the IEP meeting, each of the therapists, as well as the teachers talked with me about their assessments, reviewed last year’s goals, progress toward those goals and what changes they are thinking toward this year. Nathan shows off different skills to different people in their own environment. He’ll do things for us at home that he won’t do at school, and yes, he does things at school that he won’t do for us at home. (I do think Nathan was trying to get restless/fuss during this part of the meeting, as he doesn’t like it when we share these type of secrets about him.)

Everyone sitting around the table had their own perspective about Nathan and his progress, and in my eyes, most everything showed promise and potential. I felt like it was a real sharing of ideas and encouraging others to recreate some of his successes and delve farther to turn his self-discoveries into developmental skills. I kept feeling that everyone was on the same page with positive momentum, excited about the future.

Of course, the biggest limitations are the things that we can’t control and/or are waiting for equipment. We’re still working on getting a new gait trainer (as he’s outgrown his current one) and the communication device is still playing the waiting game one someone’s desk, between insurance, county funding, approved vendors and waitlists. The plan we have in place can move forward, but just like Nathan’s walking skills, may soon skyrocket with all the right pieces in place.

I have to say, the one thing I don’t miss about not having a full-time corporate job, is the long meetings. Even when there’s good brainstorming, synergy, and all those other buzzwords we like to use, we all start acting like 4 year-olds once the clock passes the 60-90 minute mark.

I’m still grateful for the team we can gather around a table, working together especially when there’s so much hanging in the balance on our side. It’s easy to see why Nathan is still so excited to go to school everyday. Although most kids would say a day at school is worse than any job, we know Nathan has the ‘best bosses’ possible to help him accomplish what others thought he’d never do.

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