I’m watching my son.
He’s playing on the Wii – the Nickelodeon Wii Fit game the boys got for the holidays.
I’m behind him so he doesn’t know that I have tears in my eyes as I watch him play.
“Look, Mom!”, he says. “I’m running with Pablo from The Backyardigans!”
“That’s very cool.” I say back to him, keeping my voice from shaking.
I’m watching him run in place with the remote in his hand. When he runs, it makes the Nick Jr. character on the screen run too. This is the only game he’ll play on the Wii. He says all the other games are too hard. Truth is, he hasn’t even tried them. He’s too afraid of losing.
His little body is right in front of the TV. He’s trying to stay in the same spot as he runs, but he keeps bumping into the toy box in front of him.
“When I run really fast, I make stars come out of Pablo’s butt!” He laughs hysterically at this. My two year old is standing right there patiently waiting his turn, and starts laughing too. Their laughs are infectious and I start to giggle as well.
(As a side note, this same two year old has unlocked every level on this game. I’m equally depressed, proud and mortified.)
“Now I’m making Dora the Explorer run too!”
He’s making these jerky running motions – legs flailing out to the side. It reminds me a bit of that Seinfield episode where Elaine dances.
He’s so small. My middle son. My four year old in the size 2T pants. Thin enough to still wear all his same winter clothes from last year. Small enough to crawl up into my lap and disappear into my arms. Tiny enough that his two year old brother is wearing pants that only three months ago were in my four year old’s drawers.
I’m still watching as he gets Dora closer to the finish line. I know why I’m studying him so closely.
On Thursday, we have his IEP meeting. Our first one since we set his initial plan up last year. And at this meeting, we’ll be planning for kindergarten.
Kindergarten.
Still nine months away, but the IEP will be written for the full year. That includes his summer program and start at the elementary school in August.
I’m looking at this little body moving in front of the TV. Kindergarten. How can he be ready for kindergarten?
His teachers say he’s ready. His school OT told me he was ready. Academically, I know he’s ready. In fact, there are no academic goals in his IEP. Only social and behavioral.
And that’s where I worry. I see this tiny person and I think of him at the school where my older son is now. I try to visualize him moving from 17 kids and 6 pairs of teacher eyes on him at the preschool to 25 kids and two teachers, plus whatever aides happen to be in the room. I close my eyes and picture him eating his lunch in the cafeteria, surrounded by 40 other kids and all that sensory overload. I think of him getting on and off the big yellow bus that I promised he could ride when he turned five.
(Oh God. The bus. My just-over-thirty-pound kid on the bus? Am I going to have to go back on my promise to let him take that bus?)
In his inclusion class at the preschool, no one notices his differences now. The kids there are at all different academic and social levels. Every child is equal, every child is a “friend”. Even though the aides are assigned to a specific child, they are considered teachers in the class and kids like mine don’t stick out.
On Thursday, I have to make sure that continues to happen in kindergarten. I have to make sure that when another kid sees my son run towards him on the playground, coming at him with those jerky leg movements…I have to make sure he’s protected somehow.
“Mom! Mom! Moose and Zee gave me a silver medal!”
“That’s awesome, kiddo.” (Moose and Zee give everyone a silver medal unless you get a high score, and then the medal is gold. It IS feel good Nick Jr. after all). “Do you want to play another game?”
“No, I’m done.” He hands the remote to his 2 year old brother, who adeptly maneuvers his way through the screen menu to start jumping on a pogo stick with Dora. (Like I said, depressed/proud/mortified.)
My son climbs into my lap, putting his arms around my neck. “Can I have a big squishy hug that goes on forever?”
My son may be ready for kindergarten. But is kindergarten ready for him?
——————————————————————————————-
“We’ll never be ready if we keep waiting
For the perfect time to come
Hold me steady, we’ll never be ready
When we don’t know, though we can’t see
Just walk on down this road with me
Hold me steady, we’ll never be ready” – Never Be Ready by Mat Kearney
January 3, 2011 at 10:29 pm
Of course he’ll be ready, cause you will make sure of it. Yep damn skippy you will:) Oh and we will gladly help you to be ready for kindergarten too. XO….
January 4, 2011 at 8:41 am
aw, thank you. we’ll take any advice we can get.
January 3, 2011 at 10:49 pm
Oh girl, how I feel your pain. We sometimes call Jett “Forest” for Forest Gump – that’s how he runs. But you know what? He’s in 2nd grade, and he’s ok. And your little guy will be too. He has all the support in the world, and that makes all the difference.
January 4, 2011 at 8:42 am
thank you. That run…sigh. I’m glad to hear that your son is doing well. It helps a lot
January 3, 2011 at 11:00 pm
This strikes me on sooo many levels, Alysia! Tonight as I carried my eight-year-old (Aspie) up to his bed, like so many other nights, I laughed and giggled with him and wanted to cry at the same time. His legs are now almost as long as mine so handling the stairs is quite a comical scene, but my peanut is still light enough/tiny enough to curl up onto my hip and into my lap… drifting off to sleep only in the curve of my arms. The Wii… yes, I get that too. Only carefully selected games (by him) will do. Oh, and the 2T shorts and PJ bottoms? Only took those out of his dresser last summer because I couldn’t bear to let him wear them for a sixth season… not to mention the snow gear
It’s a feeling hard to describe. I worried and worried about gym class and the lunchroom… now in second grade – guess what his favorites are?! He will be ready and may hit a few bumps along the way, but with you for his mama guiding him – what more could anyone ask for??
~d
xo
January 4, 2011 at 8:44 am
oh, Dawn…I know that scene. So well. I’m so glad to hear that school is going well. I will be looking to you to guide me.
January 3, 2011 at 11:25 pm
You’re in the same place I was a year ago with my son Jonathan. He had a liver transplant at 9 months, episodes of high ammonia prior to the transplant and seizures after left him with OT & speech -related issues – oh and he’s the most uncoordinated little boy I’ve ever met – your description of your son running – matches Jonathan to a T!- I was afraid to send him to K – but he’s doing awesome! He has an IEP and there’s nothing academic on his either, it’s all about interacting with others, OT, ways to keep him focused and speech. He loves K and I’m sure your son will succeed as well! Great Post!
~Amy
January 4, 2011 at 8:46 am
I’m so glad to hear that! thank you so much for sharing your story. And I’m so glad your son is doing awesome! I look forward to reading more about your progress to help me.
January 4, 2011 at 12:32 am
This is so lovely.
“Can I have a big squishy hug that goes on forever?” YES, forever and ever.
I remember the first time I put my autistic son Jake on the school bus, my little 5 year old who could not carry on a conversation or report anything that happened to him.
It nearly killed me but he survived, we survived.
Take a deep breath, trust those who have demonstrated their trustworthiness in their understanding of your son.
You’ll all get through this.
Oh, and hug your son forever.
January 4, 2011 at 8:47 am
thank you so so much. This means a lot. I have learned so much from reading about Jake. I’m hoping to take your strength into next year with me.
January 4, 2011 at 12:37 am
Oh Alysia….my 7 yr old fits into his 4 yr old little brothers clothes too….sigh….and the unco-ordinanted ,awkward gait and actions is so familiar to me as well. Especially on the Wii…
Kindergarten is a massive big leap that you will be taking alongside him and Howie is so fortunate to have a Mom like you that cares so much on his side.
I’m nervous with you but I also know that you have done all that you can and will continue to do so for the next 9 months.
Xx
January 4, 2011 at 8:48 am
awww, thanks Fi. This is all why I write. before today I would have thought my son was the only peanut out there!
thank you for all the love and support, always.
January 4, 2011 at 12:45 am
I hear you. My son is starting preschool next week. It’s a supportive, integrated program with a teacher and two aides for 10 kids, but the thought of putting him on a bus is killing me. But of course he’ll be fine, and so will your son.
January 4, 2011 at 8:49 am
Thank you Sarah. I’ll be thinking of you next week. Our integrated preschool has done wonders for our son, and I’m sure it will for yours as well. Good luck
January 4, 2011 at 1:08 am
This really touched me. Thanks for sharing it. I wasn’t as brave as the other women here. I backed out on my promise to let my Julia take the bus in her last year of pre-school. It was so DAMNED early!
But Howie? Howie will do great, because he has you. And you? You will do great because…
YOU ARE DA WOMAN!!!!
{{{hugs}}}
January 4, 2011 at 8:50 am
thank you Laura. You are a brave woman also. It takes a lot of guts and mom strength to know when it’s just not right yet.
January 4, 2011 at 3:39 am
I understand your worry about the bus… Remember that if you think it would be beneficial to him, you can request that he ride a short bus to and from school. These buses are supposed to pick up and drop off your child at your door, and usually have an aide in addition to the driver. You can also request that your child be provided with an appropriate car seat… This should all be included in your IEP. I learned that all quickly. My son only got his official diagnosis on November first, and started Pre-K on November third. Good luck Thursday!
January 4, 2011 at 8:51 am
Thank you for the good wishes and support, and right back at you with your son! Right now for preschool, we drive my son there but he takes the special ed van home (in a car seat) and does great. I’m thinking of requesting the same arrangement for kindergarten next year – maybe the bus there (when it’s morning and he’s not so tired) and the van home. We’ll see what they say!
January 4, 2011 at 7:15 am
I feel your pain. That first time I put Pudding on the school bus was the hardest- she’d just turned 3. I’d say it took me a week to be okay with it. In our school district, they let sibs ride the special ed bus too if they go to the same school. Not sure how G would feel about that though.
Real kindergarten though, wow. I’m glad we have more time, because there is no way my girl would be ready yet. Will you be able to keep an aide? Also, they may have an alternative set-up for kids who can’t do the cafeteria.
Howie is doing great, and I know that you’ll do everything you can to make it work, and for that reason, it will work. And then you can prove it to me when I’m in the same boat.
On a much lighter note, Nick kids fit sounds pretty good. Do you recommend it?
January 4, 2011 at 8:56 am
What a great idea your district has! That might work for first grade if we need it – kindergarten starts later and ends later than the other grades, so it wouldn’t work out next year. I’m hoping to keep the aide (will fight to keep the aide?) and figure out eating. ’cause eating in general is an issue, regardless of the noise.
I LOVE the Nick Wii Fit game. My husband doesn’t because the interface is NOT like the other Wii games (does not use your Mii, and the menu set up is different). But that’s all the reasons the kids like it. They make Dora and Diego run, jump, exercise, etc. And it’s really really straightforward and gives the kids a good all over workout without getting them tired. So it gets good reviews from me.
January 4, 2011 at 8:01 am
oh my
how beautifully you write Alysia
I have felt and feel everything you desribe
I often remind myself that socially R is a 2 year ( or less ) old
DH and I were just talking the other day that we are getting to enjoy R’s childhood in slow motion and there is something to be said for that
January 4, 2011 at 8:57 am
oh, thank you
Enjoy it in slow motion. I like that. A lot. I’ll remember that on Thursday. thank you.
January 4, 2011 at 8:26 am
I CAN’T DO IT!!! I know. That doesn’t help, does it? Big, big squishy hugs to you, girl. ANY time you need one.
January 4, 2011 at 8:58 am
It helps. It does. So do the hugs
Thank you.
January 4, 2011 at 10:37 am
Some things ate never easy, no matter how much we try to prepare ourselves for them. My son’s transition into school (after a bad preschool experience and three years of homeschooling) was one if those for me. We started in full inclusion, despite his autism and nonverbal communication, because he showed us he was ready for the academic work and needed the socialization.
I don’t know enough about your son (gotta go back and read more of your blog) to know what he might need. I can tell you that our experience was …ok. It was too much for Nik and he’s now in a specialized program with 1:1 supports as well as getting academics. My point is we didn’t know until we tried. And Nik showed us how resilient and determined he is. He is doing very well in his new program…we may even out him on the bus in the mornings, too!
Trust your gut with Howie and remain vigilant, flexible…and hopeful. He will need time to adapt. So will you. The good news, as you know, is that you can ask for an IEP mtg anytime and ask for modifications. It’s a fluid process…a journey, if you will, instead of a destination.
And you have all of us out here cheering you both on and ready to hold your hand when you need us.
January 4, 2011 at 3:24 pm
oh, the last line of your comment made me teary. thank you. I’m taking what you wrote to heart and in with me on Thursday. A journey is a great way to describe it. I have to remember that.
January 4, 2011 at 2:45 pm
remember I will be there standing right by you..I can give you a big squishy hug (wait I forgot)…..maybe just a quick pat so you know you are not alone
January 4, 2011 at 3:24 pm
the pat will do! A “good for us” pat on the back
January 4, 2011 at 9:28 pm
My guy is not a peanut…OK he’s a monster! He’s 9 and is wearing a 16 husky pant… But he IS clumsy and klutzy, he didn’t even pick his feet up off the ground when we ran until second grade (boy was the coach seriously pleased with that milestone!). None of that matters to the other kids. He’s friendly and polite and will seriously hate you if you’re mean to one of his friends. I might not go so far as to say he’s “popular”, but all the girls want to help him when he drops his pencil box…
As far as the bus goes…we rode the general-ed bus less than a week and decided we didn’t like it. We may try it again but it’s OK with me either way.
January 4, 2011 at 9:35 pm
We are surviving kindergarten and you will too. That transition has been the scariest for me. Much like my son, I HATE being out of control! But, I hold tightly to the people around us that care and trust that it will go the way it needs to for him.
On another note… We’ve been considering the Nick Wii Fit for the boys but couldn’t decide. Hearing your description makes me think it’d be perfect for them! Thanks so much for sharing:)
January 5, 2011 at 9:30 pm
thinking of you as you head into the IEP meeting (tomorrow?). i have a feeling your sweet boy will take kidnergarten by storm.
January 6, 2011 at 3:41 am
Dang, I just realized tomorrow’s Thursday. I swear I’ve been reading every single thing you’ve been writing. But you know me. I always have too much to say, so then I don’t end up commenting. Bad habit. Anyway, I hope this helps and doesn’t screw you up for tomorrow.
I can’t remember when Howie’s birthday is, but have you considered giving him another year? That’s what we did with Newt. Our theory was always that we should try to “shore him up” by keeping him with lovey-dovey, crunchy hippie folks for as long as possible, and then toss him to the wolves.:) I know you’re happy with your school, and I don’t know what kind of alternatives you have, but you’ve talked several times about imaginative play with Howie. I’m guessing his school is great at teaching numbers, letters and reading readiness, which he’s probably going to kick butt at anyway. Maybe he could use a solid year of learning how to play. Maybe do a kindergarten or pre-k year at a super calm, quiet, we-all-talk-in-soft-voices Waldorf-ish school and then put him in a more typically chaotic kindergarten class. The other thing is, by the end of the year, he may be chomping at the bit to get into 1st grade like our guy. In which case, you’re really solid.
And I KNOW I’m a complete and total pain-in-the ass about this, but as a parent who’s seen what can only be classified as monumental change in her kid, I have to encourage everybody out there with an autistic child to pull him/her away from the screen. It makes no logical sense to have a two dimensional, drawn character modeling any kind of movement or expression to a kid who is having difficulty teasing out small social cues. The makers of 3-D handheld devices just issued restrictions against kids under 6 using their products because of the possible damage it could cause to their development. So I’m thinkin’, when your mom told you that TV rots your brain, she may actually have been right.
Okay, shutting up. Final thought that’s not mine. This is from the husband, who I read your post to: “He sounds like he’s gonna be fine! Kids don’t notice differences in kindergarten yet. Unless their parents are just extreme assholes.”
Love ya. Nobody knows Howie better than you do. Not me, not the therapists, not the teachers. You know what he needs. Go kick bootie.:)
January 6, 2011 at 5:45 pm
Oh, Alysia, this brought tears to my eyes. I wish I could give you a full-proof guarantee that everything will be splendid next year. I know the anxiety you feel–I feel it every new school year and every time we try something new with Danny.
But, I do know he is lucky to have you fighting in his corner!
January 7, 2011 at 2:06 pm
[...] clear now that my son is ready for kindergarten, and kindergarten will be ready for him. The question remains, am I the one who isn’t ready? And where will I go to hide [...]
January 11, 2011 at 12:39 am
This made me cry and think of all the times Bear says “nungle wit me, mama.” I try not to get frustrated when it’s the 10th snuggle request 2 hours after his bedtime, because I know I’ll miss it the moment he grows out of it.
(thanks for the Wii game tip – I’m super picky about what he’s allowed to play, and this one looks perfect for him!)
May 15, 2011 at 3:06 am
[...] Butler presents Never be Ready posted at Try Defying Gravity. Alysia ponders, “My son may be ready for kindergarten. But is [...]
May 16, 2011 at 2:51 am
You are a wonderful mom and you will do whatever it takes to make sure he is ready. Kindergarten kids are still accepting usually. I am sure he is ready, but are you ready? Is any mom ever really ready? Add in autism and it is of necessity harder to let go, but I know you will both be fine.