Sticks and stones
Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me. ("Folk-phrases of Four Counties", by G F Northall, published 1894)
Do you remember that very old quote? I do. It is one of those phrases that I can't remember when I first heard it but it feels like it has always been there.
Except today, I disagree with it. The sticks and stones bit is fair enough. Bones can be broken that way. But today the names do hurt. They hurt a mummy's heart. This mummy. Me.
So here is what I know.
I know that it is through assessments that bureaucrats make decisions about children receiving funding for support when they go to primary school.
I know that the Batsman will need (at least) some support when he makes the transition to primary school in 2013.
I know that the lower he scores on the lead-up assessments, the greater chance that he may receive a teeny tiny bit of funding to help him.
I know that I feel completely torn and conflicted by willing him to succeed and in the next breath, wishing for him to score poorly.
I know that when I sit in a chair opposite a psychologist while she takes me through the Batsman's assessment scores and report, even after two years on the autism road, it still feels as if I am having an "out of body" experience.
I know that no matter how hard you try to prepare yourself, that nothing can ready you for having your child's skills and abilities described as "moderately low". Seriously, who thinks of these terms?
I know that names and words can hurt. Even when that is not the intention.
Postscript: Most of this post was scrambling around in my head as I drove the forty minutes home from the psychologist's office this afternoon. Blog posts often do that don't they? When I arrived home, the Batsman, fresh from his ABA therapy session, threw his arms around me and began to pat me on the back. When I asked him what he was doing, he said, "I'm just giving you some pats Mum because I missed you while you were gone."
And I am giving you some pats as well. Just because I can :) xx
ReplyDeleteOh he is a sweet heart.
ReplyDeleteI remember so well the deep worry over "what if Heidi does not get an aide"
And the earth shattering heartbreak at seeing the words "severely disordered" all over her reports.
How dare they call my beautiful wonderful amazing girl severely disordered.
Yet they dared because they had to, without those two horrific words she would not have Recieved the level of funding she did.
Oh honey, I remember that so clearly and HATE having to go through it each year as we reapply for funding. And it's bittersweet - you know you need the lowest score possible to get the best funding, but who wants to hear that about their child? Ever?
ReplyDeleteBig hugs to you all tonight and remember, no matter what the reports say, not matter what his teachers might say - he is your beautiful amazing little boy.
Big hugs to you Suz, remember it well. It seems so unfair especially when NT kids are never measured like this. It feels like just another kick in the guts. Bless your little Batsman and his pats :-)
ReplyDeleteaww his so cute. i get where your coming from with the words bit though they do hurt.
ReplyDeleteI don't hate many things but I do hate the words written in these assessments they are heartbreaking, every child has so much potential and so much to give it needs to change big bugs to you xx
ReplyDeleteOh Suz. It's hard, isn't it. We had to apply for funding for High School (oh it would be nice to get official word we weren't approved, thank you Sth Metro Region) and the Area Psych suggested I don't read, or show the paperwork to my husband. Mmmm.
ReplyDeleteDid I tell you about the time my son was diagnosed with "co-morbid" this and that? Yeah, I'd prefer the term dual diagnosis, thanks. Who thinks these things up indeed. Hugs Suz xxxxx
Sorry to hear the day was a bad one, but so glad that the Batsman behaved 'with empathy, speech, and above normal emotional intelligence'. Those are the words you need to think about tonight. Xx
ReplyDeleteYou know as a Mum- he is your beautiful boy. nothing more. nothing less.
ReplyDeleteit hurts for you to see him go through this.
it hurts that people are making judgments.
are making comparisons.
because as your boy- you love him wholeheartedly for just being the gorgeous child you created with love.
i can't begin to imagine how tiring it is to have other people measure your child on stuff that to you doesn't make him anything more or less than what he is....your beautiful perfect child.
perfect.
just perfect.
hugs to you beautiful mumma.
xxx
Sending you love and strength Suz. xo
ReplyDeleteI loathe the wording of those reports. Loathe how I have to warn parents before I hand them over about the way they are written. Loathe having to highlight and emphasise the negatives when applying for funding - and again, letting parents know that I am required to write them this way. Nothing good, just the bad magnified and described in detail.
ReplyDeleteI can not understand why we must do it this way - why I can't write about all the amazing things each child can do.
As for the sticks and stones - I heard a revised version which I think is more accurate:
Sticks and stones can break my bones,
But words can hurt forever.
It's true. And I wish more people, more funding bodies, more professional would understand.
As for you and your boy. Remember those reports are not the total of your son. They are a means to an end. They are not and do not define him.
Sending you love. xxx
Okay. Two questions...
ReplyDeleteHow do you, as his mother, perceive his abilities and potential? I do not mean on the back of this report, but in the veryday.
If you answer the way I suspect you will, my next question is this.
Will you allow a professional's assessment to change what you believe him to be in your heart?
I'll be back after you answer. :-)
Bah - meant everyday... but veryday works too.
ReplyDelete