High school sports & locker room worries

It's less than three weeks until the new school year starts. Yes it's July, but we're in a town where school is in session much of the year. And I'm tense.

Our son signed up for a sports program rather than regular PE It will be intense -- the boys will be training for the soccer team. As I understand it, just the elite players make it. The average boys just get a lot more soccer practice in.

This program has me terrified. Part of me thinks that's silly, and part of it me says that I have cause. How many boys with Asperger's will be in this class? My guess is just mine based on how his IEP counselor reacted when he selected the program for his PE credit. I hope to be wrong.

So what are my fears? Some are plain silly when I say them aloud. Yep, underwear is a big worry. Will he have the right kind? I've already sorted through and threw out any that didn't look new. My Aspie is a creature of comfort. He'll reach for ones even if they have the start of a hole.

I'm worried about the locker room and how other boys will act around him. Will he get any privacy? He CRAVES privacy. Will he not understand the way boys horse around and not know how to react?

I'm worried that he won't be a strong player. We didn't put him in club soccer because he was average and club sports take a lot of time and money. Our time and money seemed better spent with other activities.

I'm worried he'll be too critical of other player when he isn't exactly a star himself. Don't think I'm being mean. I'm just being truthful. And I know from experience that he isn't so great with filtering. He's getting better after many long talks about when it's OK to say something and when it's best to keep those criticisms inside. When he was younger, his directness lead to lots of glares from parents, who themselves were likely thinking "your son is rude, odd or all of the above."

I'm worried that the boys will bully him. All of the other worries have had me thinking of this possibility a lot.

I wish this didn't stress me out so much.

Total Wine & More supports Autism Speaks in April

Not that I'm encouraging wine drinking, but Total Wine & More is financially supporting Autism Speaks during the month of April. The email that I received says: “Purchase any featured wine between April 1 and 30, 2012, and we will proudly donate $4 for every case sold to Autism Speaks!”

Featured wines listed are Radius Cabernet, Red Decadence Chocolate, Summit Estates Sweet Merlot, B Lovely Late Harvest Riesling, Petals Moscato, and Paradise Peak Riesling.

Prices will vary by store. Just click your state and store for details.

Might need to try something new in support of autism research. :) Remember to drink responsibly.

Training needed to build understanding

Autism is a different experience for every parent dealing with it. Sure, there are similarities, but the spectrum is broad. Our burden as parents will always vary because of socioeconomics, culture and beliefs. Our circumstances will be different. Our support systems may not be as solid as the next parent. But I believe most of us try to do what’s best for our kids.

How our kids on the spectrum interact with others also will vary. I think a lot of that has to do with how we prepare our kids, but also how others — teachers, students, coworkers, service providers, etc. — prepare to deal with others who aren’t like them. Of course, I wish everyone got a course on the autism spectrum. Given the recent numbers from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention indicating as many as 1 in 88 children have an autism spectrum disorder, shouldn’t we at least pay attention?

While I wish more families took time to understand it and teach their children to be kind to others with differences, I really wish school districts would take a lead training teachers and encouraging inclusiveness. I guess what I hope is if teachers stand up for our kids  on the spectrum — who often are teased for being different or excluded because others don’t know how to deal with their quirky behavior — then others would follow.

I’ve not done extensive research on how much time and money is spent on autism training at schools. I just know my experience. When I’ve brought up the idea of additional training or strategies related to my son with teachers, I’ve mostly gotten resistance via a perceived bad attitude or the “I know/do that.” Really? I wouldn’t have brought it up, I think. I suppose they think that I’m challenging their abilities. I just want the best for my child and others like him. You don’t get change if you don’t ask for it.

I’ve thought maybe I’m taking this too personally. So I’ve gone on some website to see how others feel about training. The most negative opinions have come from self-professed teachers. Maybe they’re the vocal exception. I hope! But many of the teachers who responded to my posts have said they didn’t get into teaching to deal with special ed kids and that they’re frustrated so many are in regular classrooms. I find that sad and disturbing. Not every child will be a model student. And so my wish for training…

A teacher makes a world of difference

I had lost my faith in teachers when my son hit second grade. My faith then hit a new low as he entered junior high, when a former teacher truly disappointed me.

I hated that no one knew how to help my son, and no one seemed to care. Time and time again, I’d feel lost, helpless. The break-room gossip, I supposed, had to be how undisciplined we were as parents. It was so far from reality.

Some were kinder than others, but I felt as though no one wanted to inspire my son to learn. All they wanted was for me to medicate him or get them out of their class. Some pitied us. They were the nice ones. A few I call plain ignorant, and really, I feel sorry for them.

One – a supposed born-again Christian – was the worst. And we had her twice! She appeared so two-faced to me. The saccharine dripped from her lips, but it would soon turn to venom when it came to our IEPs. I knew deep down this teacher held a grudge for something my Aspie didn’t filter. The feeling was confirmed by the mommy gossip chain. Talking about me when others could overhear! Seriously, is this woman still in junior high? I wanted to leave a card on her desk with WWJD on it.

At least I finally met one teacher who would get my son and really inspire him to try hard in the subjects that gave him trouble: reading and writing. I have to say if she didn’t appear when she did, I don’t know how I would survive the daily challenges of elementary school. She was amazing. I plan a blog praising her later.

As he gets older, I’m finding a few his teachers have had Aspies in their class or in the family. This has been good for my son because they view him more compassionately and they are more willing to try alternative ways of teaching him. Wish they were the rule, not the exception.

High school has this mama freaked out

Just checked out the school that my son will attend. I must say, I don’t remember my high school being so HUGE.

I hate that I can’t make easy decisions about his classes and electives, especially PE. I guess a lot of my questions won’t really be addressed until May at a special meeting with his IEP team. I feel like I just can’t wait to get some answers.

Biggest worries: Fitting in and being teased.

Next biggest worries: Teachers who won’t get him and getting kicked out of honors math and science.

I need to get over it. I know. It’s hard.

For now, my now history-loving son will take regular English and World History. He loves history so I wanted to push honors, but I don’t want to overwhelm him.  My son and I decided, together, to push math and science. His dream is to become a rocket scientist. So honors he will do.

I’m torn about PE and an elective. The school has special programs to emphasis one sport. All levels of experience are accepted. He’d like to do soccer. He was OK as a defender, but his Asperger’s made this sport difficult. That’s the subject of another blog. So let’s just say I worry about the jocks. There’s also a junior ROTC option. Meeting the group, I didn’t feel it would be a great fit either. And I’m not crazy about the general PE option. Ugh!

We won’t do a language this first year. I don’t want him to feel too stressed, and by default, languages require a lot of participation. So will we do art? Plant sciences? Again, ugh!

Praying his new IEP team and his teachers will make the transition to high school smooth. I’m shooting for success, but can’t help worrying disaster is possible.

Road to discovery, part 4

Was he or wasn’t he on the spectrum? How could one test say yes and the other say no. Confusion struck.

Our developmental pediatrician suggested we ask his school to perform an ADOS (Autism Diagnostic Observation Schedule) evaluation to get closure. Essentially, he would be observed at school and given some one-on-one tasks and evaluated on how he reacts. 

Our doctor pointed out that our son was bright, and a diagnosis could open up more help from school. Still, we were scared. This would determine his condition, an obvious good thing. But how would we feel if he had autism? Would our lives change? Would his school be able to help him? Would he be high functioning enough to find his way in the world?

Our dreams as parents shattered the day we learned he had Asperger’s syndrome. I cried a little. I hurt knowing my son wouldn’t be “cured” of autism or ever truly fit in. He wouldn’t be the kid everyone liked. Parents would still judge us for having the “weird” kid.

Emotions gushed. Thought we were afraid to say aloud finally made their way out. My husband’s desire that he become a star athlete was now DOA. He suspected for sometime, but hoped we’d find some medical fix. Would he be able to go to college and find a job or live with us forever? And I worried most about long-lasting friendships and falling in love. Would he ever experience that unconditional love in a relationship? Would people always give up on him, as they do now?

We had to get over our self-pity and focus on his possibilities. It’s not about us. It’s what we can do for him. He is bright. He can learn more socially acceptable behavior. We needed to look at this diagnosis as the first step to helping him unlock his talents and hit his potential at school and, later, life.

It’s still scary and we worry, but we have hope.

Road to discovery, part 3

The school IEP (individual education plan) was the start to really helping our son. We also tried counseling, hoping that it would help with the behavior. We didn't see much of a change.


We finally got in to see a developmental specialist on our insurance plan. The waits can be very long -- six months or more isn't uncommon. We lucked out, getting in sooner than anticipated. (Ask to be put on the cancelation list and take it, even if the day/time is inconvenient.) Our son would be first diagnosed with ADHD-inattentive and anxiety “not otherwise specified.” It’s now the middle of third grade and he’s 10.

The developmental specialist didn’t immediately think Asperger’s – was this a good sign? Was he missing something? I fear the autism label. I know it. I’m happy we are finally getting answers.

School got better as soon as we opted for medication. We’d first treat his ADHD-inattentive and get him some additional accommodations on his IEP. I didn’t think his teacher felt the “fix” was fast enough. It was the best I could do for now.

Trying to brush aside that bad parent feelings that I felt every time we spoke, I kept trying to seek strategies from his teacher to help our son at home.  After a while, I also felt there had to be a better answer than anxiety NOS and ADHD-inattentive.

By summer, the doctor included “social concerns” and a need to rule out a communication disorder on the diagnostic impressions sheet. After a few months, I reluctantly asked the doctor if we should test for Asperger's syndrome. He agreed.

Now in fourth grade, we and his teachers were given to forms with a lot of behavioral questions. So many of my answers seemed to be sometimes. Could it be? Was I missing something? His grades were average, but homework remained frustrating. He talked in cartoon fantasies rather than "normal" talk. No one wanted to be his friend. Even the girls who seemed to like him, stopped saying “hi” in the school hallways. Can't like the strange boy or you'll get teased. We also noticed few of the boys dared talk to him at lunch. Only a few of the “nice boys” came to his 11^th birthday – maybe their parents felt sorry for us and our son. This isn’t good, and it’s not because mom and dad want their son to be well liked. This was different.

Our first evaluation came back as a no. Relief hit. Maybe he'd grow out of these odd behaviors and build normal friendships. Before I got too happy, we learned the second was a yes.