Preschool Evaluation

It's weird how at evaluations such as the one Olivia had over a month ago, I'm torn between wanting them to say, "Huh, we're not sure why you're here, your daugther is perfectly normal in very way." to "Well obviously, she qualifies for services, look at her, she's still weak, her voice is very quiet, she needs help pottying, climbing stairs, can't draw a circle let alone write her name. Let's sign her up."

I know that Olivia is very high functioning but I also know going into evaluations like the one we had that I am very unlikely to hear the first comment.

She does need help. I'm okay with that.

Yet...I want her to NOT need help.

Don't we all want that for our kids? We all want our kids to be perfectly normal, just like their peers, right up there with all the other kids in the mainstream classroom.

And I'm often spoiled by Olivia.

When we're out and about, just doing everyday things, no one can tell that she needs extra help zipping her jacket or pouring milk into a cup.

No one knows unless we tell them.

No one, that is, except her educators, those people who are paid to teacher her to be an independent thinker. These people look past the pretty face and the sweet little voice and see a child who needs help.

And they're offering it. Something for which I'm eternally grateful. These people will help my girl reach her fullest potential. Which is what I want.

But it's hard sitting in a room with the evaluators a week later, Olivia safely at home with Daddy, coloring...No. Let's be straight here, scribbling on a piece of paper, dripping milk onto the table as she eats her cereal, being taken to the potty ever hour on the hour in hopes of teaching her the habit of going pee on the toilet (let's not discuss pooping yet, egads!!)

It's hard to sit in there and listen to them discuss her weakness, her lack of physical skills like catching a ball, walking along a straithg line, using scissors.

I know all these things are true but in my day to day life with Miss Livie, I can fool myself. I can live in a bit of denial, believing she's right up there with her peers in a lot of areas.

And in some areas, she is. But a lot? She's not. She's a funny, sweet, loving little girl who needs a little help learning some things in life.

That's okay. It might hurt the mama a little, but that's okay too. I'm tough. I can take it, as long as I can continue to find the places, the people who will work with my girl, encourage her to thrive and work toward goals, encourage her to go outside her comfort zone and try a little harder at those things she isn't good at yet.

Because I have no doubt that if this girl works hard, she can be good at anything she wants to be good at. And as the mama, I'm going to keep pushing her, and finding other people who will push too.

And yes, I'll probably still continue to live a little bit in denial because well, that's sort of a mom's job too, right? As long as it doesn't get in the way of getting things done, it's okay for me believe, even just once in awhile, that she's fine, she's great. Because in the end, she is. She's perfect just the way she is. It's just that she has the potential to be even more perfect and I want her to know that and work toward that.

The same, obviously, goes for her sister. I just don't have to push that one quite as hard to try to be a little better, a little stronger.