Special (needs) kid

I haven't posted on this topic before because it is a difficult subject for me to put into words. I doubt this post will be all that coherent, but I really feel the need to write about it.

Different. I have a stepson who is different.

As a young child (well before I knew him), he was verbally delayed and had some motor issues. Now, as a nine-year-old, he is behind at school -- mostly because he is a different kind of learner, but also because his behavior and lack of typical social skills gets in the way of his success. I could write pages and pages about the tests and so-called "diagnoses" (from autism to anxiety -- but none of them really fit) the professionals have subjected him to. I won't, because I truly believe all the tests in the world won't help him. 

What will help him is a teacher who cares, as well as parents (including me) who reinforce the academic and behavioral work the school is doing. 

He starts at a new school today, and there is some real hope. I have not yet met the teacher, but I plan to. A teacher friend of mine told me, "A.J., you are a parent. The school and teacher don't care if you are a bioparent or a stepparent. You might not even want the title, but you are a parent." She's right - I am one of four responsible adults in my stepson's life and I can have a genuine impact on his life. I want the school and teacher to know who I am and to know that I care. (Whoa! Tears in my eyes as I type that.)

C., my husband, has met the regular classroom teacher, special ed director, principal and others at the school who seem to be on board with treating each child as an individual. What works for one won't necessarily work for another. They don't believe in forcing a square peg into a round hole. With the right support and encouragement, I believe my stepson can succeed. He is bright. He is special. He shouldn't be written off just because he is different.

* * *

This weekend, C. and I watched the HBO movie "Temple Grandin." If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it.

Dr. Temple Grandin was diagnosed with autism in 1950. She didn't speak until she was four years old. "Professionals" told her mother she never would speak and that she should live in an institution.

Her mother refused to give up on her. She DID speak. She went to school. She learned. She loved science.

In high school, a science teacher became her mentor and she began to thrive. Someone believed in her and showed her that she could do it. She went on to college, earned a master's and eventually her Ph.D. in animal science. She now teaches at Colorado State University and lectures on autism. 

She says she thinks in pictures -- and her autism is one of the reasons she is able to relate to and work with animals.

C. and I had tears streaming down our faces because it hit so close to home -- but also because it showed us so much hope. 

The professionals can tell you, until they are blue in the face, to prepare for boarding school and group homes for a child, because he's different and won't be able to take care of himself later in life. They convince you - yes, even in this highly advanced age - that there is nothing to be done. Why? Because THEY don't know what to do.

Since I met my stepson, I have always believed that he would grow up, learn and succeed. I believe he can be self-sufficient. I believe he can have a career and be happy. I refuse to believe that we all should give up on him having dreams because he doesn't fit the norm.

I will post more on this later, I am sure. For now, I just want to put out into the universe my best wishes for my stepson, Jonah*. Today is a new beginning for him, and it is a day filled with much hope. Your daddy and I believe in you, kid.

* Names have been changed.

What if we get bored?

As a new stepmom, I am entering more fully the world of children's activities, cartoons, books and games. Up until now, I have watched from the sidelines as my sisters and friends chauffered their children to various activities, events and appointments -- all set to a soundtrack of Bob the Builder and Disney theme songs.

Sometimes, though, parents need activities that are just for them -- with no trace of princesses (don't even get me started), Spiderman or talking vegetables.

Friday night, my parents invited my sisters and me to a free Dixieland jazz show with the Queen City Jazz Band. When we were growing up, my folks took us to see this band at a variety of free concerts in the park, so there was some nostalgia attached to the event. I also have a personal love of all things jazz in nearly all its iterations.

I told C. I planned to go, and he and the kids were welcome to come, if they'd like. They did join us -- as did three out of four of my nephews.

On the drive down to the concert, Annie* (my stepdaughter) asked, "What if me and brother get bored?"

Hmm, what if the kids did get bored? Just what tragedy would ensue? Boredom -- is it the horror of all horrors to be avoided at any cost by parents everywhere?

The truth is, "boredom" allows a person's mind a free moment for creativity. I remember creating elaborate stories for myself as a child during many "boring" car trips (we didn't have car DVDs back then!), "boring" classical concerts and "boring" dinners at real restaurants (no ball pits, clown characters or free toys in the Merry Meal) with my parents.

Children do not need to be catered to and entertained every second of the day. Sadly, many parents give in (or give up?) and set up the portable DVD player during breakfast out at a cafe (what happened to food being the "event"?), or pop in a video game in the car on long road trips (doesn't anyone play the alphabet game anymore, or - gasp - look at the view?).

Parents have a bigger job than serving as personal social and event organizers for their children. They must help children learn about the world, learn how to think critically for themselves, discover how to create their own stories and grow into adults who enjoy life and all that it has to offer.

Life is about more than plugging in a machine for ready-made entertainment. Sometimes, a child is better served with little more than a pen and paper -- and a bored moment.

Friday night, my parents, sisters, C., five children and I lined up in two rows to listen to some good live music. Those five children listened, watched, pretended to drum along and practiced "conducting" the band. They also took advantage of boredom to doodle and write, and show their parents the results of their creativity.

They did beautifully. They had FUN (my 9-year-old nephew reported that the evening was "awesome!"). Their brains absorbed a little healthy music (which studies have shown aids brain development).

Oh, and their parents (and stepparents, in my case) were able to enjoy a little grown-up time. The singer had us all on our feet by the end, belting out "When the Saints Go Marching In." (Which elicited a few eye rolls from the younger set at how embarrassing their parents were acting - ha! I, for one, am not the least bit worried about being embarrassing.)

As I have said before, music feeds my soul. I needed that night out, and I am happy I was able to share it with my husband and stepkids.

Spongebob, Speed Racer, Cinderella and Dora - step aside. Tonight, we prefer to be "bored."

*Names changed