MIDDLE SCHOOL ORIENTATION -- THEN AND NOW

Dear Persons,

We remember our most terrifying life experiences all too well, right? 

My first Middle School Orientation as a parent was one such moment for me. 

My son, “G,” is now 16. He is a super smart, autistic, kindhearted 10th grader. 

My daughter, “Z,” is 12. She is allistic, very, very clever, and has some residual attachment-disordered behavioral traits that actually serve her well in her brutal 6th grade milieu. 

Four years ago, I attended G’s Middle School orientation. This spring, I attended Z’s. The differences between the two experiences were remarkable: 

Then: Abject terror for my child.

Now: Mild concern for other kids since, how shall I say this, Z and her friends are “still developing this skill” of the skill of empathy. 

Then: Both children sitting with me. I'm so tense that my little guy — not the most observant kid on earth — is sensing my alarm, and my little gal — showing her rare and dear soft side — is noticing the tears streaming down my face; trying to keep it together for them and for my own dignity, such as it was. 

Now: Sitting solo. G at another event. Z up on the balcony with her girl posse, all small but mighty. Scornful expressions masking…nervousness? Nah. 

Then: Tears.

Now: Yawns. Have already seen this presentation. Plus, not worried. 

Then: Curiosity tending toward fretting: Will these new teachers really see my child? Will he succeed here on his own terms? Will my child be bullied during this awkward time of life? Will G’s learning differences be scaffolded in such a way that his intelligence can shine? 

Now: Curiosity, pure and simple: What will those teachers I was in close contact with for G think when they meet Z? Will my child be actively kind to “different” kids like her brother? Will Z make an effort to do better if getting decent grades is easy for her? Will her developmentally appropriate “attitude” be toned down in class? In the lunchroom?

Then: All-out trepidation about the changes, from multiple classrooms to teacher-specific homework assignments.

Now: Relief, knowing I won’t have to intervene or oversee Z constantly—vis-à-vis homework or anything else. 

Then: Organizing Team Friendly Face.

Now: Admonishing (“Please try to look a bit less haughty — there are students here who feel intimidated and scared”).

Then: Praying.

Now: Sighing. 

My special “expertise” has always been around having two very different kids, but these four-years-apart experiences encapsulated that reality for me in the most striking way. It’s nice to see in this latest iteration that from time to time I am able to avoid having a total panic attack when a total panic attack is not warranted (I’ve wondered about that). 

Then: Despite all that, my kids are alright. More than alright! 

Now: Ditto!

Then and now, I am grateful for these two precious beings and for the ways we all persist in growing and trying, together. 

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

 Welcome to Voices of Special Needs Blog Hop -- a monthly gathering of posts from special needs bloggers hosted by The Sensory Spectrum and The Jenny Evolution. Click on the links below to read stories from other bloggers about having a special needs kiddo -- from Sensory Processing Disorder to ADHD, from Autism to Dyslexia! Want to join in on next month's Voices of Special Needs Hop? Click here!

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A MEETING FRIEND

If you haven’t already got one, I suggest you find yourself a Meeting Friend. What I mean by this is we all need someone who is in a similar situation. You know, the other person who, like you, secretly wants to do the merengue at the water cooler at your conservative office, or the one who also thinks about global warming All The Time, or has to bring their own snacks to school because if they eat vending machine snacks they will be sick all over the common room. The other single parent. The one at the boozefest who’s also in AA.

Whatever your difference, it usually feels better when shared.  Who wants to feel “special?” Or be a martyr? Better to not be alone in differences and/or challenges, no?

For me, finding someone who, like me, was dealing with a surfeit of school meetings (both historically and currently) was a game changer. It made me, as the mother of a Full Spectrum of children, feel like I shared a challenging aspect of life with another human being. It gave me a chance to connect over meeting topics and strategies, rather than having to accept empathy/sympathy from someone who had no idea what I was dealing with or, more likely, choosing to simply keep my mouth shut.

Depending on your location this might not be easy – it took me eleven years - but it’s something worth seeking out if you haven’t already found that person or persons.

And so, without further ado, I present to you:

Ode to a Meeting Friend

For D

If you’re rushing and fleeting to get to a meeting

And you see a sad person who’s sad in their greeting

And you ask them what’s up and they say through a tissue

That the teacher or principal called with some issue

Ask, How many weeks in did it happen to you?

Wait…You’re on your way NOW to a dread meeting TOO??

It is then you will know he or she is The One

The person who’s having the same Special Fun

Say: I take it You got “the school call” today too?

I know how you feel and I know what to do!

Between two there are so many ways to face meetings!

Some sob fests …co-ranting…emotional eatings!

Between two the whole scene becomes funnier, normal…

You can bawl, laugh or BOTH now, without being formal.

So let’s sing the praises of the Meeting Friend

Who is there with the gluten-free agave cookies

Who is there cuz of knowing this stuff ain’t for rookies!

Without him or her your heart might not quite mend

I love you, I love you, my dear Meeting Friend.

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama