I get emails nearly everyday from Noah's teacher. And it's the worst when the subject reads "bad day" or "problem." Uh-oh. But not today. Today the subject was "precious" so I didn't have to read it with one eye shut.
My little boy has the hugest heart.
Here it is (Ms. Virginia is one of the teacher's assistants):
Nicole,
Are you ready for something to bring a tear to your eye – Ms. Virginia ’s daughter and granddaughter came in. The baby started crying so Virginia said the baby was hungry and got her bottle. Noah went and got his lunch box and put some chips on his paper plate to feed her! We got a picture. When the baby started to cry and he went over and hugged her. It was precious!
Margaret
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
When Miracle Babies Grow Up
Here is one small (but lovely) story of a preemie highlighted in the 5/18 People Magazine:
Grategul & Giving Back
When I see pictures of premature babies with problems I think about how blessed I was that I dodged every bullet. When I was in fifth grade I couldn't read the board, so I had to get glasses. I didn't like them but then I remembered I could have been blind, so I shouldn't complain. When I was born I had blood transfusions. I started donating blood when I was 17; now I try to donate every two months. I just got back from a service trip to Guatamala, and I've done three trips to Mexico. I know God has a plan for my life--otherwise, he wouldn't have kept me around.
-Katie Kenefick, age 20. Born 25 weeks, 1lb. 14oz.
Grategul & Giving Back
When I see pictures of premature babies with problems I think about how blessed I was that I dodged every bullet. When I was in fifth grade I couldn't read the board, so I had to get glasses. I didn't like them but then I remembered I could have been blind, so I shouldn't complain. When I was born I had blood transfusions. I started donating blood when I was 17; now I try to donate every two months. I just got back from a service trip to Guatamala, and I've done three trips to Mexico. I know God has a plan for my life--otherwise, he wouldn't have kept me around.
-Katie Kenefick, age 20. Born 25 weeks, 1lb. 14oz.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
mom's day.
Happy Mother's Day! I had a wonderful one. I got to sleep in this morning until about 8:30, which alone was an amazing gift. I came down the stairs only to find a large bouquet of my favs(gerbera daisies), a card from the kids, a card from Joe and a hot breakfast w/ newspaper. ahhh... As I sat down to enjoy all of the joy of this day I saw a small, black box. hmmm... I opened it to find the most lovely mother's ring. simple. just what I would have picked. Lovely.
I called my mom this morning to wish her a happy mother's day. I was sorry I couldn't be up there to tell her in person and to make her feel as pampered as I felt today. I was supposed to tell her what a wonderful mother she is to me, but before I could get the words out she was telling me what I wonderful mother I am to my kids. And how proud she was of me. And truly, that was one of the very best gifts I got today. Thank you mom. For your words and for all that you are to me.
Defining Motherhood (by Judy Winter, An author and a brave momma):
Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary defines mothers as “a female parent,’ which vastly understates mom’s value. These remarkable women shape the youngest minds and our country’s future—no small feat.
Mom’s importance is especially evident in special needs families. While parenting a child can make any mom want to yank out the individual hairs on her head, raising children with special needs is much like running daily triathlons without prior training—and no potty breaks.
These moms boldly lace up ill-fitting parenting shoes to run the biggest race of their lives 24/7, often for life. It’s an exhausting, exhilarating role that I embraced for nearly thirteen years. At times, the demands seemed superhuman; but the rewards taught me volumes about the sacred responsibility entrusted to parents. Those rich lessons changed the direction of my life and rewrote my definition of motherhood.
Effective parenting isn’t for wimps, especially when disability’s involved. Had I blown off the demands of parenting both of my kids, we would have paid a huge price. My firstborn deserves big thanks for allowing me to practice mommyhood rituals on her. I had no idea Jenna was preparing me to better meet the uncertainty of her brother’s physical needs from cerebral palsy.
Like most moms of kiddos with extra challenges, I’ve experienced more than my share of tears, sleepless nights during unnerving hospital stays, and seemingly endless educational and medical encounters requiring pit-bull advocacy. I’m amazed my heart’s still beating after the devastating loss of my much-loved son.
One thing’s clear. Whether it’s autism, cerebral palsy, learning disabilities, Down syndrome, ADHD, or a host of other developmental, behavioral or medical challenges, special needs requires that extra parenting push, often delivered by a remarkable ‘female parent.’ These moms rarely receive kudos, but they deserve all that they get and more.
To all those hardworking mamas who love kids unconditionally, my thanks. Your passionate, unselfishness commitment to your sons and daughters, even while facing the toughest parenting situations imaginable, is inspiring.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms who fix icky boo boos, bravely face up chuck, make gooey mac & cheese and killer PB & J sandwiches, (and make the crust disappear), read one more bedtime story, initiate all those tough but necessary parent-child talks, and foster healthy independence in their kids (a.k.a. letting go)—while still managing to grab a shower.
But extra props to moms who boldly stare down disability each day. Because special needs parenting requires special moms— their bold parenting decisions create brighter futures for all kids.
I called my mom this morning to wish her a happy mother's day. I was sorry I couldn't be up there to tell her in person and to make her feel as pampered as I felt today. I was supposed to tell her what a wonderful mother she is to me, but before I could get the words out she was telling me what I wonderful mother I am to my kids. And how proud she was of me. And truly, that was one of the very best gifts I got today. Thank you mom. For your words and for all that you are to me.
Defining Motherhood (by Judy Winter, An author and a brave momma):
Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary defines mothers as “a female parent,’ which vastly understates mom’s value. These remarkable women shape the youngest minds and our country’s future—no small feat.
Mom’s importance is especially evident in special needs families. While parenting a child can make any mom want to yank out the individual hairs on her head, raising children with special needs is much like running daily triathlons without prior training—and no potty breaks.
These moms boldly lace up ill-fitting parenting shoes to run the biggest race of their lives 24/7, often for life. It’s an exhausting, exhilarating role that I embraced for nearly thirteen years. At times, the demands seemed superhuman; but the rewards taught me volumes about the sacred responsibility entrusted to parents. Those rich lessons changed the direction of my life and rewrote my definition of motherhood.
Effective parenting isn’t for wimps, especially when disability’s involved. Had I blown off the demands of parenting both of my kids, we would have paid a huge price. My firstborn deserves big thanks for allowing me to practice mommyhood rituals on her. I had no idea Jenna was preparing me to better meet the uncertainty of her brother’s physical needs from cerebral palsy.
Like most moms of kiddos with extra challenges, I’ve experienced more than my share of tears, sleepless nights during unnerving hospital stays, and seemingly endless educational and medical encounters requiring pit-bull advocacy. I’m amazed my heart’s still beating after the devastating loss of my much-loved son.
One thing’s clear. Whether it’s autism, cerebral palsy, learning disabilities, Down syndrome, ADHD, or a host of other developmental, behavioral or medical challenges, special needs requires that extra parenting push, often delivered by a remarkable ‘female parent.’ These moms rarely receive kudos, but they deserve all that they get and more.
To all those hardworking mamas who love kids unconditionally, my thanks. Your passionate, unselfishness commitment to your sons and daughters, even while facing the toughest parenting situations imaginable, is inspiring.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms who fix icky boo boos, bravely face up chuck, make gooey mac & cheese and killer PB & J sandwiches, (and make the crust disappear), read one more bedtime story, initiate all those tough but necessary parent-child talks, and foster healthy independence in their kids (a.k.a. letting go)—while still managing to grab a shower.
But extra props to moms who boldly stare down disability each day. Because special needs parenting requires special moms— their bold parenting decisions create brighter futures for all kids.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
seriously? really? Are you kidding me?
Hmmm Megan, I don't think you need to attempt to whip out any SAT words to sound moderately intelligent. It's quite evident you are uninformed, uneducated and profoundly insecure. And yes, that is YOUR fault.
"I don’t want to have to be like a Scarlett Johansson – who I have nothing against. But I don’t want to have to go on talk shows and pull out every single SAT word I’ve every learned to prove, like, 'Take me seriously, I am intelligent, I can speak.' I don’t want to have to do that. I resent having to prove that I’m not a retard – but I do. And part of it is my own fault."
-Megan Fox
What a joke.
"I don’t want to have to be like a Scarlett Johansson – who I have nothing against. But I don’t want to have to go on talk shows and pull out every single SAT word I’ve every learned to prove, like, 'Take me seriously, I am intelligent, I can speak.' I don’t want to have to do that. I resent having to prove that I’m not a retard – but I do. And part of it is my own fault."
-Megan Fox
What a joke.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
IEP madness.
Sorry I'm late on this one. This meeting exhausted me before it even happened. Joe says I over prepare. I say...there's no such thing. It lasted almost 4 long hours. Yes, you read right.
I got a call at 7:15a.m. the day of the meeting. It was Noah's teacher calling to cancel because the server was down. She said, "we're just going to have to reschedule." THREE WEEKS BEFORE THE END OF THE SCHOOL YEAR????????????? No way. Nope. I told her I would not approve this and I wanted to see it happen today with or without computers. So it was delayed an hour and we had to do it the old fashioned way, with no electronics. Some weren't happy. Oh well. It happened and that's all that matters.
Some may not know what an IEP meeting is so I will enlighten you. Individual Education Plan. It's for any child that qualifies for it in the public school system. To qualify you need to have some sort of disability or challenge that requires support in the school system. It is a legal document; therefore, the school takes it very seriously as they do not want to deal with pesky lawsuits. But it is up to the IEP team (teacher, physical therapist, occupational therapist, speech therapist, counselors, facilitators, principal/vice principal, psychologists and the parents, to name a few) to decide placement and goals for the child. So you see, my voice is one of many in that room. And the annual meeting is the big one. New goals, placement, support is put in place annually. Essentially, everything is reviewed and revised. That is the meeting we had yesterday.
I got a draft of the IEP a few days prior to the meeting. This made things easier as I knew what I was up against and was able to send my requests for changes to the goals ahead of time. We met in the middle on a few of them, but I got most of what I thought was appropriate for Noah. His academic and PT goals required very little revision. His speech, OT, social/emotional goals, however, needed to almost be rewritten. We spent almost three hours of the meeting hashing out these goals. It was exhausting, but worth it.
Just when I thought things weren't so bad, things started to get shaky. It was the last hour of the meeting and time to talk about the three most important things: Retention, General Education and Assistance in the classroom. I wasn't sure what to expect. My advocate was there in case I needed her, but I hoped I wouldn't. First up, Retention. Everyone agreed keeping him in Kindergarten would be best due to the transition to General Education. He would be very far behind socially in the first grade classroom. That takes me to Gen. Ed.-- they all agreed this would be best for him. But his IVE (Independent Varying Exceptionalities) teacher gave a speech that nearly brought me to tears. She said these kids are either going to go the route of "special diploma" or the route of "general education." She mentioned that once they start on a track of "special diploma" it gets increasingly difficult to catch up later. She said we would be doing Noah is disservice by placing him in a "special diploma" program. She kept saying "these kids (in IVE) are academically two years behind general education and Noah is a smart boy." She had no hesitation recommending him for 100% inclusion in the general education classroom. It was a proud moment for me. To know that someone else can see what I see in this boy, gosh... it put a lump in my throat.
So we all agreed on gen. ed. and retention. Now, we want to be sure he's successful. Noah still needs some physical assistance with certain fine motor activities. His grasp is weak and holding utensils can prove to be difficult for him. Not only that but sometimes he requires extra help or attention staying on task. With 20 children and only one teacher, I didn't want to risk it. I wanted assistance for him in the classroom. I did not want him pulled out for "resource" 30 minutes per day (he is already pulled out for OT, PT and Speech--I want every other moment with his peers-- NOT another pull-out). He needed someone there to help him when it was needed. period. They all agreed that he needed this, but when it came time to put it on paper every single one of them chickened out. They said "it wasn't possible" and "we can't do that" and "assistants are only assigned to teachers, not students"...blah, blah, blah is all I heard. My blood pressure was rising and thank god my advocate stepped in. She started stating the laws, regulations and IDEA (Individuals with Disabilities Education Act) and although it was a small road block for them, the room kept insisting it couldn't happen. Joe and I sat quietly while Noah's advocate (AKA our strength and support) would not give up. They had said at one point, "that's not how we do things here in Pinellas County" (because my advocate works all over the state) and she replied that she didn't realize Pinellas County was above the law. Love that. She actually called the attorney in the middle of the meeting! She was strong and steadfast. And we left with the words we wanted on that paper. It was a huge weight off our shoulders.
I got the final draft today. I signed and it's done.
There will be one more meeting before school is out for the summer to discuss a speech evaluation and adding some articulation goals. I am a little nervous that at this meeting the facilitator (who was absent the other day due to illness -- I've never been so happy to hear someone was ill) will see what we did and demand us to change or remove it. It has to be a team decision, but I am just hoping it slides under the radar and speech is all that is discussed that day.
So when I am asked "how did it go" my reply is "it was tough, but it went well." We were prepared, we had an advocate (thank god), a sick facilitator (hooray!) and perhaps the stars were aligned for Noah that day. Either way, I'm a very thankful gal.
I got a call at 7:15a.m. the day of the meeting. It was Noah's teacher calling to cancel because the server was down. She said, "we're just going to have to reschedule." THREE WEEKS BEFORE THE END OF THE SCHOOL YEAR????????????? No way. Nope. I told her I would not approve this and I wanted to see it happen today with or without computers. So it was delayed an hour and we had to do it the old fashioned way, with no electronics. Some weren't happy. Oh well. It happened and that's all that matters.
Some may not know what an IEP meeting is so I will enlighten you. Individual Education Plan. It's for any child that qualifies for it in the public school system. To qualify you need to have some sort of disability or challenge that requires support in the school system. It is a legal document; therefore, the school takes it very seriously as they do not want to deal with pesky lawsuits. But it is up to the IEP team (teacher, physical therapist, occupational therapist, speech therapist, counselors, facilitators, principal/vice principal, psychologists and the parents, to name a few) to decide placement and goals for the child. So you see, my voice is one of many in that room. And the annual meeting is the big one. New goals, placement, support is put in place annually. Essentially, everything is reviewed and revised. That is the meeting we had yesterday.
I got a draft of the IEP a few days prior to the meeting. This made things easier as I knew what I was up against and was able to send my requests for changes to the goals ahead of time. We met in the middle on a few of them, but I got most of what I thought was appropriate for Noah. His academic and PT goals required very little revision. His speech, OT, social/emotional goals, however, needed to almost be rewritten. We spent almost three hours of the meeting hashing out these goals. It was exhausting, but worth it.
Just when I thought things weren't so bad, things started to get shaky. It was the last hour of the meeting and time to talk about the three most important things: Retention, General Education and Assistance in the classroom. I wasn't sure what to expect. My advocate was there in case I needed her, but I hoped I wouldn't. First up, Retention. Everyone agreed keeping him in Kindergarten would be best due to the transition to General Education. He would be very far behind socially in the first grade classroom. That takes me to Gen. Ed.-- they all agreed this would be best for him. But his IVE (Independent Varying Exceptionalities) teacher gave a speech that nearly brought me to tears. She said these kids are either going to go the route of "special diploma" or the route of "general education." She mentioned that once they start on a track of "special diploma" it gets increasingly difficult to catch up later. She said we would be doing Noah is disservice by placing him in a "special diploma" program. She kept saying "these kids (in IVE) are academically two years behind general education and Noah is a smart boy." She had no hesitation recommending him for 100% inclusion in the general education classroom. It was a proud moment for me. To know that someone else can see what I see in this boy, gosh... it put a lump in my throat.
So we all agreed on gen. ed. and retention. Now, we want to be sure he's successful. Noah still needs some physical assistance with certain fine motor activities. His grasp is weak and holding utensils can prove to be difficult for him. Not only that but sometimes he requires extra help or attention staying on task. With 20 children and only one teacher, I didn't want to risk it. I wanted assistance for him in the classroom. I did not want him pulled out for "resource" 30 minutes per day (he is already pulled out for OT, PT and Speech--I want every other moment with his peers-- NOT another pull-out). He needed someone there to help him when it was needed. period. They all agreed that he needed this, but when it came time to put it on paper every single one of them chickened out. They said "it wasn't possible" and "we can't do that" and "assistants are only assigned to teachers, not students"...blah, blah, blah is all I heard. My blood pressure was rising and thank god my advocate stepped in. She started stating the laws, regulations and IDEA (Individuals with Disabilities Education Act) and although it was a small road block for them, the room kept insisting it couldn't happen. Joe and I sat quietly while Noah's advocate (AKA our strength and support) would not give up. They had said at one point, "that's not how we do things here in Pinellas County" (because my advocate works all over the state) and she replied that she didn't realize Pinellas County was above the law. Love that. She actually called the attorney in the middle of the meeting! She was strong and steadfast. And we left with the words we wanted on that paper. It was a huge weight off our shoulders.
I got the final draft today. I signed and it's done.
There will be one more meeting before school is out for the summer to discuss a speech evaluation and adding some articulation goals. I am a little nervous that at this meeting the facilitator (who was absent the other day due to illness -- I've never been so happy to hear someone was ill) will see what we did and demand us to change or remove it. It has to be a team decision, but I am just hoping it slides under the radar and speech is all that is discussed that day.
So when I am asked "how did it go" my reply is "it was tough, but it went well." We were prepared, we had an advocate (thank god), a sick facilitator (hooray!) and perhaps the stars were aligned for Noah that day. Either way, I'm a very thankful gal.
Monday, May 4, 2009
big day.
Noah's annual IEP meeting at school is tomorrow. Nervous. Ducks in a row...I think.
Asking for full inclusion with general ed kids, a full-time aid and retention in Kindergarten. Not to mention the fact that I have rewritten almost every single goal (they were pretty bad). Hopefully it will be painless, but I am thinking no sleep tonight.
more tomorrow...
Asking for full inclusion with general ed kids, a full-time aid and retention in Kindergarten. Not to mention the fact that I have rewritten almost every single goal (they were pretty bad). Hopefully it will be painless, but I am thinking no sleep tonight.
more tomorrow...
Sunday, May 3, 2009
doh.
i want to be the person that doesn't care. that let's go. that isn't always trying to be hyper-organized. but i think it's in my blood; however, i am getting better. i think. how do i know this?
the play-doh colors mixed (say it isn't so) and we all lived to talk about it.
and you know what?
it felt pretty good.
Reese loves the doh any which way it comes. As a matter of fact I think she loves "her colors" even more than theirs.
ahhhh...
the play-doh colors mixed (say it isn't so) and we all lived to talk about it.
and you know what?
it felt pretty good.
Reese loves the doh any which way it comes. As a matter of fact I think she loves "her colors" even more than theirs.
ahhhh...
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