Once upon a time, long about a year ago, I looked at my son, and I thought he was perfect.
Full of flaws within in his perfection, of course. That annoying stubborness (he obviously gets from his father), his overcautious fear of the world, and the fact no matter what he eats he manages to get all over his shirt, but…he was perfect in that he was mine, and was exactly the way God created him to be.
And then I sent him off to school, the place I assumed to be full of positive growth and learning experiences. The place where he would figure out things like how salute the flag, remember to put his smock on before art class, and generally interact with his peers in the larger world.
Since we live in a lovely school district, with wonderful schools, and have encountered nothing but talented, smart, caring teachers and professionals, my assumption has largely proven true. School has been a positive experience for not only my son, who loves going each day, but for our whole family.
Except for one dark undercurrent that is symptomatic of our American schools system at large: the hard, painful part I wrote about this Spring–the part in which my son is presented as a problem to be fixed.
A few months later and the start of a new school year? This mama’s heart is still hearing the words, “He isn’t normal.” It still tears me, crushes me in a way I would never have understood before things like IEPs and “special needs” became not something other kids had, but something my kid had.
After my first phone call with his sweet teacher when she discussed “social concerns” she saw during recess, I hung up the phone and sobbed as my heart broke in a way it never before had, over yet another concern to add to the growing list. You see, last year, after much middle-of-the-night sleeplessness, the support of some incredibly boss friends, and the overwhelming response of readers to my first post about my son’s struggles (seriously, THANK YOU), I managed to wrap my head around the truths that he had serious attention issues and was woefully “behind” with his reading and writing skills. But still, hearing now that he was preferring to playing alone and avoiding the other children, rattled, shook, and shocked me just as much as the initial news that he was having difficulties in school.
Why did it shock me? Because I will always think he is “normal”. In regard to his social skills, I know he loves laughing and playing with other children. I know he is kind and shares toys. I know he has good friends and how they delight in often hanging out together. He is a socialized and social child. But even if I didn’t know these things, I’m never going to label my child “abnormal”.
Because I will always believe he is perfect as he is. Because that’s my job. God created my son. And he created me to be his mother. Believing in him is my job.
And if I’m going to do this job well, I’m going to have to get a bit smarter about it. My growth in better addressing the situation since the Spring has been twofold:
1) I have learned, and learned well that in today’s school system any difference in a child from the prescribed standard mold is not only noticed, it is understood to be something that must be addressed.
For example, when I was in school, if your handwriting was messy or you couldn’t complete each assignment within 10 minutes, at worst, you got a bad grade. Today, you get a team of specialists and an individualized learning plan. Not calling for better or worse on the extra attention, just understanding that it’s a different world, one in which deviations get A LOT of attention.
So my child’s in good company with a whole bunch of deviants who aren’t ideally living the “norm”. The non-A list crowd is growing in numbers daily. Give it up for the new popular crowd.
2) I have the power to handle the situation as I see fit.
- The are other schooling options. They are far from our current radar, but if our discomfort with the situation escalates, it’s nice to know we have available choices.
- There will be a team of people around that initial IEP meeting next week, and I will be one of them. And it’s darn sure I’m going to make my voice heard.
- I can choose to understand the situation. I can grasp that while my son is slow to read, he excels at math; I can know that he is a brilliant individual who is strong in some areas and not others. I can know that, like me, he needs alone time, and that in a jam-packed day, he is not displaying a permanent antisocial behavioral characteristic at recess by playing solo, he is using his sole 15 minute break to decompress before meeting a demanding afternoon.
- I can make sure that he knows that above all, I love him just as he is. Wholly, passionately, and with pure joy in whom he has been created to be, whatever that might look like.
So a year ago, I looked at my son, and I thought he was perfect. Then a whole bunch of people told me a whole bunch of stuff. And now I still look at him and still think he is perfect.
And I’ll believe that forever and always.
For a related discussion on the value and quantity of the homework assignments our children are given, check out this smart video on VProud.
First image credit: depositphotos.com, image ID:17057441, copyright:prometeus
Second image credit: depositphotos.com, image ID:51608975, copyright:Wavebreakmedia
Third image credit: depositphotos.com, image ID:12808311, copyright:realinemedia
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Janine Huldie says
Aw, Meredith trust me I get this, because I have heard similar with my older daughter as she is most definitely on the shy side and she doesn’t always speak up for herself in school. I have been told at this point more a confidence problem, but still no matter what we hear about our kids, we still can’t help, but see the perfection in them, as they are ours and be the biggest advocate and supporter always. Hugs to you and seriously you are doing a great job, mama!!!
Meredith says
That’s exactly it, Janine, no matter what, we can’t help but see the perfection in our own kids. We love them so much!
Cynthia Gabriele Sprouts Consignment Boutique says
Our children are perfect, they may not fit the mold of “Norm” but they are ours & we will fight like mother bears to protect them & to get them the help they need to survive & strive in this dog eat dog world. Never let anyone tell you that a label means anything more than the fact your child will receive extra help in certain aspects of his learning. IEP meetings can be frightening to us as adults but we are standing up for children, never back down on what you know is right for them, these are “learned adults who look at a big picture & can often miss the little artist amongst them. Let our child shine on!!! There are other parents out there who have been through this as well & there should be paren advocates for you too. I will always be there to help if you ever need another “Mother Bear” in your corner. Been there, done that, & still believe we are our children’s best advocates!
Meredith says
Thank you for Mother Bear-ing with me, Cindy–I need it. And that “Our children are perfect” even if “they may not fit the mold of ‘Norm'”? That is exactly my heart. xo
Sara says
The timing of this post was exactly what I needed to read. My son just started first grade and I feel like a pro at this IEP process and yet i still I have moments of frustration but like you I believe in my son. My son may not be outgoing but he has 2 besties that he loves playing with but he also likes some quiet time. And don’t get me started on they only have a 15 minute recess to play. They expect way too much of children. They want them to sit quiet,focus, participate and write perfectly without any breaks. I am grateful for the services but I have moments of wanting to shake the teachers and be like all children don’t learn at the same pace or in our case write clearly. From one IEP mom to another I’m sending you big hugs!!!
Meredith says
Sara, I so, so appreciate your knowing hugs. Right back at you & xo
Sisterhood of the Sensible Mom says
You are the perfect mom for the perfect kid. I always muse that as a society we sure do laud individuality and “specialness” . . . unless it spills too far out of the mold. It sure is hard to navigate the waters of education, I’m glad your son has you. <3 Ellen
Meredith says
So, so true, Ellen. Got to keep all the difference neat and tidy, you know? *wry smile*
Jen Kehl says
I’m going to shoot you some links…..your situation sounds eerily similar to mine, but since I homeschooled Isaiah it wasn’t so “in your face.” Isaiah is 10 now and was JUST diagnosed with severe Dyslexia, many schools and doctor’s are reticent to diagnosis Dyslexia because it is a true, neurological learning disability and requires more services than most schools are willing to provide. A lot of kids present with social issues too, either becaus they have them 😉 Or because the dyslexia and/or dysgraphia (the writing part) is sucking all of the energy out of them, AND they feel like everyone think’s they are lazy, not trying hard enough or even stupid.
Isaiah also has Sensory Processing Disorder, a tick disorder and a touch of OCD, which I guess kept me from really looking at the dyslexia piece.
Anyway….I have been writing about it a lot lately and will send you some links so you can see what you think.
Meredith says
Jen, you sharing your experience and all those links means so much. Thanks for being willing to walk through this with me. xo
Julie Conner says
You rock you are beautiful and powerful and I freakin love you. He is PERFECT, don’t let society or the “school system” tell you any different. Sending you super duper loving love my friend! XOXO
Meredith says
You are my rock with embracing him and myself for who we are. Thank you for cheering me on through it all and huge love back at you, friend.
WhenCrazyMeetsExhaustion says
It’s such a slippery slope; most parents–unlike you–want their child labeled for a variety of reasons: to showcase his talents, to get him free services, to ensure someone legally advocates for him. But you’re right–any hint of deviation from the norm and BOOM!!!! Slap a sticker on him and let the world know he’s different. Since when is different a BAD thing?!
Heart you, Mama. Stay strong. Color on. 🙂
Meredith says
You’re so right, Steph, and I do feel so blessed to have all these services available…and my sincere prayer every day is that they help. xoxo
Dani Ryan says
So, I don’t have experience with the public schooling system yet (brace yourself for tearful phone calls next year), but I feel like I am constantly hearing about kids being labelled and given all kinds of different therapies for things that just were not an issue when we were kids. I remember boys acting out in class, or not paying attention, or goofing off. Back then, the diagnosis was “he’s being a boy”. And guess what? Those boys turned out just fine.
He’s perfect, Meredith.
Meredith says
Thank you, friend. Thank you. Love and xo
Sheila Qualls says
You labeled you son correctly: “Perfect” He was made exactly the way God intended. And, we know God doesn’t make mistakes. Love your courage and determination. We are our child’s strongest advocate.
Meredith says
Aw, Sheila, thank you. These words mean a lot!