Because IEP Season Is Upon Us

'Tis the season for IEPs (and the photo accompanying this post is not meant to suggest that IEP meetings are like getting blood drawn.......read on......): A friend who's an advocate for parents just send me a link to About Autism Law.com and (mindful of Charlie's IEP, which will be in May), I've been going through each section. Many of us are familiar with the numerous resources about special education law at Wrightslaw and subscribe to their newsletter, the Special Ed Advocate. About Autism Law.com is written by a lawyer, Dave Sherman (and his book on Autism: Asserting Your Child's Right to Special Education is featured on his website). The left sidebar is organized into subjects that often arise as a parent prepares for an IEP meeting:

• Obtaining an Assessment for an Autistic Child
• Autism Services (did you know your child might qualify for, besides speech and OT, physical therapy, medical services for diagnostic or evaluation purposes, and more?)
• Writing a parent attachment to the IEP in which you state "your position, what you want, what you disagree with, and anything else that would be appropriate."
• Stay Put
• What you should do if you don't agree with the IEP offered by your school district (which, alas, happens more often than one might wish)
• Transition Services
Placing your child in a private out-of-district placement and seeking reimbursement from the school district.

A reader, Love is the Message, has also compiled a long list of resources about IEPs and more on this post, Keep It At the Local Level: School Placements.

Jim and I feel that Charlie is (at long last) in an appropriate educational placement with a fabulous teacher; just hope for this to continue for another year (at least). My guiding thought for this IEP is the question, how can we ensure that Charlie is currently and will remain a member of the community, educated among his peers? What kinds of accommodations do the rest of us (included us, Charlie's parents, as well as the school staff) need to make to help Charlie----a child who would most likely not have been educated in a public school, or educated at all, even a short time ago----achieve this goal?

Charlie's academic assessments are full of long streams of "SP" and "NP"---"some progress and no progress. But one always has to be wary of judging him too much by what happened, or didn't happen before.

Yesterday morning Charlie had testing----blood testing---scheduled. The new neurologist that we've taken him to had requested that Charlie have genetic testing done. I'll admit that I've been dragging my feet to pick up the phone and schedule the testing. The last time Charlie had blood drawn was when he was five and I held him in my lap while a technician tried and tried to draw blood from my writhing, forget-about-sitting-still, wailing child. The technician was only able to get about two-thirds of a vial and, me being in almost the same state as Charlie by that point, that was the last time that we ever tried that.

Yesterday it went great.

I teach at 9.30 am on Tuesday morning and the appointment was at 9am---early, so there wouldn't be a line and so Charlie would get something to eat as soon as the testing was done. (He had to do the test on an empty stomach.) My parents and Jim took Charlie. They had to wait 45 minutes while the office staff looked up the right codes for the tests; Charlie stood patiently and finally sat down and crossed his legs. After they went in to get the testing done, they had to wait for 15 more minutes before a technician appeared with a tray with a dozen empty vials and explained that they'd need to take that many to get all the tests the doctor had ordered done. Jim supported Charlie's shoulders and my dad helped Charlie keep his arm still and it was all over in eight or so minutes, Charlie sitting quiet and still the whole time.

Afterwards, they went out to a diner and Charlie turned down a new food (Taylor ham and egg on a bun---he wouldn't touch any of it, however much ketchup Jim poured on it) and went for the fries. (Well, of course.) Afterwards, they went on a bike ride during which Jim crossed a busy intersection at the light with Charlie behind him----only Charlie was still on the other side of the street and the light had turned red. Jim called out to Charlie, who got off his bike and stood with it, and then walked it across the street once the light had turned green.

You just never know what's gonna happen and I just always want to give Charlie, and kids like him, every chance we can.