Today kicked off The Month of Clara. Throughout the next month, we will learn a great deal about our little one’s abilities and we will celebrate all the things that make her special. Clara begins ballet this week, something that she can’t stop talking about. She’ll don her pink tutu and ballet slippers, she’ll twirl, and hopefully, she will make friends. The following day, she will join her family and friends as the head of Clara’s Crew as we walk to raise awareness and funds for Autism research and supports. And in addition to those fun activities, this month she will be tested. Assessed. Monitored. Questioned. Today was that first assessment, and as I waited in the lobby of the preschool, bouncing an almost six-month-old on my lap for well over an hour, I couldn’t help but reflect on the world of special education that we may or may not be entering next month.
As a student, I never really knew about special education classes or services. I suppose that means my schools did a good job including students, as I never knew who was on an IEP or 504, never mind even knowing what they were. So it never occurred to me that I may be navigating that world as a mom until last March. This morning, I spent ninety-seven minutes sitting, waiting, and thinking about what this month has in store for us. The parents of neuro-typical children don’t have to sit in school lobbies, questioning what the future has in store for their babies. They don’t have to worry about whether their children will be accepted by peers. They don’t have to read and reread “A Parent’s Guide to Special Education” just to make sure they’re fully prepared to ask all the right questions at the TEAM meeting. And while I’m certainly not insinuating that those parents don’t have struggles, because Lord knows parenting is the hardest job any parent has ever known, I do know that these particular experiences are known only to a certain subset of the parenting club.
After today, Clara has two more assessments. Then, the team of educators will compile data into a report that basically decides what our year will look like: will she be eligible for public preschool or has she soared so far that we need to enroll her in a private school setting? Will I be able to drop her off at the school right around the corner from our home or will we need to rearrange our whole schedule to get her to the school the next town over? Will she have an IEP, a 504, or neither? Is general education her path? So many questions, and on October 30th, so many answers.
And once we have our answers, we will celebrate. We will celebrate knowing our plan. We will celebrate the fact that our Clara will go where she is meant to be. We will celebrate the fact that despite whatever the data tells us, we know our girl. We know what she’s capable of and we know how to support her. We know her smile, her hugs, her giggles. And how will we celebrate…? We’ll celebrate with Halloween! And then, with a birthday. Our sweet girl will turn three, and exactly one month from today, we’ll adorn our house with planets, astronauts, meteors, and of course, stars. She fittingly requested a space party, and for someone who has done nothing short of soaring to the moon and back, I can’t think of anything better.
