Strange

We received the final written report from Olivia’s team in the mail recently. This is the same paperwork I received when I attended her IEP meeting back in May.

I read through it again last night and a few things stood out for me.

The first is that her preschool teacher described her and her behavior as often being ‘strange.’

Strange. I think a word that might be a little more insulting would be weird. But maybe just a little. Strange is…vague. I wish she’d given examples of this ‘strange’ behavior.

She did go into detail about how Olivia sometimes ignored her peers and passively defied the teacher and her aide.

I wonder…is this really ‘strange’ behavior, though? I mean, surely this teacher has dealt with such things before.

I realize that as the parent of a special needs child I have to get used to hearing things like this and seeing them written about my child.

But I don’t think she’s strange. I don’t think her behavior is all that strange. Then again, I’m not in a classroom with ten other kids, attempting to keep them all on task and dealing with one little girl who would prefer to go off into a corner by herself than participate in circle time.

Maybe she is strange.

I don’t want that for her. Strange feels lonely to me. Odd, weird, creepy, all those things have such negative connotations. Strange does too.

I want what every parents wants for their kids. I want both A and O to be happy, to have friends, to have a life beyond home and their immediate family. I want them to feel fulfilled in whatever they choose to do, whether it’s school, extracurricular activities, after school jobs, careers, even friendships. Whatever. I just want them to find things that bring them joy. And ‘strange’ doesn’t feel joyful to me.

And the thing is, Olivia is joyful. She has so much fun and laughs so hard that it’s hard to separate her from joy.

But I don’t think her teacher ever saw this.

I hope her teacher next year sees it.

When Olivia was one year old, she began therapies. She had four therapists. Her adored three of them. These three therapists saw O’s joy, they saw how hard she’s willing to work to achieve something. Her occupational, physical, and speech therapists clicked with her almost immediately and we were all sad to see them go when she aged out of First Steps.

But that fourth therapist? The developmental therapist? She and Olivia did not click. Ever. Olivia only saw her for a year. This woman was perfectly lovely. But Olivia never really liked her. After a year, the DT decided that she wasn’t really bringing anything to Olivia’s development. She didn’t feel like Olivia needed her. Olivia agreed. We broke ties with her when O was two. She never got to see Olivia’s joy, her drive, her independence. And I think that’s because Olivia chose not to show it to her. She didn’t like the DT and she wasn’t interested in showing her all she could do.

I wonder if maybe Olivia never clicked with Mrs. F. Maybe she didn’t work hard in preschool because she didn’t care if Mrs. F wanted her to do things.

I know I’m probably grasping at straws but I can’t help but hope that Olivia clicks with her kinderkids’ teacher next year and that this new person can bring that joy to school that Olivia lacked last year.

Olivia’s PT, OT and ST at school all reported a very different child from the one her teacher said she saw. Of course, these three people worked one on one with her, which may be part of the problem. Maybe it’s the classroom setting and not the teacher.

I guess we’ll see come August. I really, truly hope and pray we can find a way for Olivia to find joy at school.

I’d hate for another year to be wasted in the world of strange. The very thought breaks my heart.