I wish I may, I wish I might

I wish I may, I wish I might…


What do you wish for? I think it changes every day. I think there’s that internal running checklist of wishes we all have (live at the beach, write my book, lose the baby weight – given the fact that the baby is now 6, so on).

And then there are the daily wishes. Going thru the day with little internal wishes. Wishing you catch that green light. Wishing you felt better. Wishing it would warm up. Celebrating these little wishes-come-true I think are what leads to having a happier life.

Here’s a good one for this week. Trent’s IEP meeting was Monday. I went in armed to the teeth with books and Trent’s BAB (big ass binder) – my arms were so full I missed the buzzer when they tried to let me into the school. We sat down, me, trying (at that point) to drown my aching throat with a lukewarm Chai Latte (still have a Starbucks gift card I’ve been rationing since Christmas) while also gripping the slippery BAB on my lap. We go around the room, and we have all parties present. The Vice Principal, the class teacher, the PT, the Special Ed teacher, me and the OT.

I’ve been rallying hard for Trent to get PT at the school. He had his PT evaluation last week privately, and we discovered he’s not even at an 18 month olds level in some areas. He is SEVERELY delayed. His hypotonia is rearing its ugly head. He’s on board for 1-2x a week for the foreseeable future. But, he’s cracking jokes and goofing off, and really, not minding at all all this extra work. He’s the best kid for this disease. God wasn’t playing when he gave this to him. He’s got the personality to carry this off. And he will be fine and even stronger for it. But, back to the IEP – I know that he getting PT in school is very hard. He would have to have his physical issues affecting his school day. And what does he do the day he’s being screened for eval? Doesn’t put his head down once on his desk, doesn’t even slump. Doesn’t trip or fall. So, he fails to meet the requirements for a PT evaluation. Well, dear friends, this is the point where the nodding and gentle mommy disappears and I start to lose my shit. Suddenly, I feel the tears burning my already sore throat, and I say, as calmly as possible, “I just find it hard to believe that he doesn’t even meet the criteria of an 18 month old privately, but in the public setting he doesn’t even qualify for an evaluation? How is that possible?” I know my books on IEPs, Advocacy always state one thing – KEEP CALM. But, inside the Mama Bear in me is starting to grumble. I mean honestly, how is it possible? How can he not even have the physical capabilities of a toddler in the outside world, but in the school he’s not eligible? So, the team (who has gotten to know me well) starts to see me redden, my voice get thicker, and they know, next is tears. The Veep speaks up and says, “Yes, that does seem odd.” It was enough for the PT to agree to keep an eye on him. To agree to attach her name to the IEP. Which I then reminded her (which I am sure she didn’t like) that if she joins the team, she can’t leave it without written consent. Ugh, a parent who KNOWS something! The worst...

So, while Trent isn’t getting PT at school per se, he’s on her radar. That’s fair. And even better? They think, he will be able to do General P.E. in the fall with just a little extra help. They still haven’t given him the PE evaluation, but they think it’ll be okay. I know enough by now not to count my eggs until they are hatched, but that’s a good sign.

And that’s a great wish – a damn dream really – come true. Hugs!!