Closure

This blog was started 8 years ago, when I had a 2 year old baby doll, was going to graduate school to become a teacher, and was working part time as a t.a. for an agency as an ABA therapist. I was in the throes of depression, and my dollygirl was showing symptoms, even at that age, of what would become full blown and pretty intense ADHD. There are a lot of very dark moments in this blog, triggers to me, if you will. Many a time, in fits of rage or another onset of The Bell(a) Jar (as I'll jokingly refer to my depressive times, along with "dropping my basket") that I have come so very close to deleting this entire journal. I am so glad that I haven't, because going back and reading it makes it real. I did go through something quite solid, quite real, and I survived it. We survived it. And it has been a useful tool to speak to Juliet about her ADHD, how it affected her in the past, versus how it affects her now.

When I began student teaching and working part time, I needed someone to watch over Juliet. I asked my aunt, who lived in New Rochelle (where we lived at the time) if she thought her nursery school would take us. She got us to come and visit, and I loved it. However, Juliet did NOT do well here. There is another post in the archives that I am way to tired to find, where I get the phone call about the stairs.

Let's relive it shall we?

I'm sitting outside my client's house (big boy, about 4 or 5, with severe autism. He actually lived very close to my in laws. I'm a bit early so I can take the call from the teacher. Who proceeds to tell me that Juliet pushed the class down the stairs while they were walking. Me, being the idiot martyr parent was all "I'm so sorry!" but then it hit me, "Juliet doesn't even KNOW how to walk down the stairs!" 

But here is a post from November 30, 2006 that describes it more:

why it sucks being a teacher AND mother. who works.

while work was good today (excellent sessions with both boys! score!) my life was just smashed to smitherines because of juliet.
first i drop her off. 2 days a week, andy drops her off. and i guess she just scampers away and plays. we drop her off about 1 hour or 45 minutes before actual school starts, and this unstructured time is just not good for her. anyway, todayI dropped her off. and while at first she scampers away, once i'm out the door, she is hysterical crying. "where did my mommy go?" i hear her wailing. with heavy heart, i go to my first client.

a 2 year old boy.

it just kills me to spend time with these other kids while mine is crying in a suckfiled school.

so i go to pick her up and i'm about 10 minutes early...i walk through the doors...and she's sitting outside her classroom.

she's 2.

with the assistant teacher.

"Mommy!" she cries. excited. however, i know that this is not a good situation. "why are you out here?" i ask.

and she replies.

"i'm in time out."

she's 2.

apparently she ripped the buttons off some kid's snowman project. which is just dreadful, i know. but she's TWO YEARS OLD. she is probably bored out of her skull because she is so goddamned advanced; she probably thought she was helping the freakin' kid. but she doesn't even REALIZE what she did. the assistant teacher admits that she tends to do things out of some innate desire of exploration (okay, i made the fancy words up but she said she just seems drawn to doing these things). she does. she takes things apart. she disects things. and she opened the door to say goodbye to her teacher, and there they were, a bunch of 2 year olds (who don't really talk, walk, run, play) sitting in circle time.

silent.

behaving.

and i know juliet is NOT doing that. she is too curious. too wild. too intense.

and excuse me. i do NOT want a cookie cutter baby. my daughter is amazing. i encourage her to think and do and explore.

so why the hell am i allowing her to be stunted in this way?? i feel so trapped. as a teacher and therapist, i feel like crying whenever i think of all the time i spend helping other's children. giving parents reassurance. finding ways to make lessons and sessions more interesting to grab the kid.

yet my kid.

my freaking genius.

is stuck in time out.

at 2.

i need to find a way out of this.

This was my heartbreaking situation every single day. I had her at a half day nursery school. It was a shitty situation, because of my aunt working (still works) there. My aunt's mom, who Juliet adores, and still calls Nanny, took her home after nursery school. One day, very similar to the one detailed above, Nanny looked at me and very quietly said, "Get her the hell out of here." My heart sank, because it wasn't just me seeing all of this, not just mommy paranoia! 

Taking this to heart, I went to talk to the lead teacher. Who, in front of parents and employees told me to get my child evaluated because there must be something wrong with her. 

I work every single day with children with special needs. I look at their parents and I know, without a doubt, how they felt when they were told there was something wrong with their child. There is something so life altering--not shattering, my daughter is alive, she's successful, she's amazing, but there is a seismic shifting within your heart and stomach and the very fibers of your being, and it changes everything. Forever.

I thought I was hot shit because I am a Special Ed teacher. The first thing I did was arrange said evals through my company (nice to have friends in the high up places). Second, knowing the FERPA rights and other SPED laws, I wrote a nasty letter to the head of the nursery school, reaming out that teacher and her unprofessional attitude, immediately pulling Juliet from the program.

Life got difficult. I had to schedule numerous evaluations with speech providers, ots, pts, teachers, hospitals, find her a new daycare, continue work, keep up with classwork, graduate, etc.

Then we found out. She was severely delayed in her fine and gross motor skills. She had low motor tone. All of this explained the behaviors displayed at school. Falling down the stairs, unable to sit for periods of time. She had (has) pronated feet, needs braces. She began occupational therapy and physical therapy. (It didn't last because her academics and speech were so high that New Rochelle felt it cancelled the rest out). My poor awkward girl. Through my own research, I felt that she had Sensory Processing Disorder, where she longed for sensory stimulation- the louder, the faster, the harder, the better.

Here is a follow up from January 2007:

weight. world. shoulders.

it has been one of those days again where i am left emotionally drained with thoughts swirling every which way. talking to others just angers and confuses me so i sit in silence pondering what went on.
is she okay? i know that she is.
does she have problems? i know that she does.
have i made the right decisions? in my heart, i know that i have.
however, i hear all these voices. all these opinions. totally irrational, biased, loud, confused(ing), defensive, uneducated, unaware, flippant, with-good-intent, yet just not right, opinions. shoved down my throat. and i keep my mouth shut because i am well aware that you cannot argue with these people and their opinions. but they do nothing but upset. anger. confuse. annoy the fuck out of me. because THEY DON'T KNOW.
and i do?
maybe i don't.
but my heart is at stake and i would only do what is best for my heart. my angel. baby girl.
so yea, it's been one of those days. where i could fall dreamlessly into a deep slumber, except for the fact that all of these thoughts are swirling violently through my mind my soul my heart.
she's asleep. she is drained too. she's aware. she knows what's up.
my angel.
my heart.

(for more old blog posts about Juliet's diagnoses etc. go here)

Juliet.

I smile as I write this because of where she is today.

But again, things got worse before they got better.

She went to daycare until Kindergarten. It was fine, except she was "bad" there, you know, not staying on her mat after she woke up from nap. Or coloring in the cubbies with crayon (that I had to pick her up from school in the middle of my work day and take her to my class. My principal was NOT pleased). She was impulsive. She was bored. She was so smart. But if anyone ever used the term bad, even jokingly, I'd go batshit (ask my father in law). I think it was because deep down inside I was terrified. Was she bad?

The worst thing that ever happened happened in the middle of Kindergarten. Andy was in charge of taking Jules to school. I was at work when I got a call from home. I answered and it was the New Ro POLICE.  Juliet had waited til Andy was in the shower, packed her book bag, and left the house. Tried to walk to school. Luckily the cop took her home. (We talked to her about this recently, and she said she didn't really go far, because she got scared and started crying). This was the scariest thing that has ever happened to me in my life. At this point, I turned to her teachers (one of whom I still work with as she transferred to my school)for help. Of course they had seen numerous impulsive and hyperactive behaviors in class, and had the school psychiatrist observe her. Eventually this lead to a medical diagnosis of ADHD. 

From Kindergarten, Juliet has functioned under a 504 plan. She has gone through a trial and error of medications, behavioral therapies, play therapies, social groups, etc. I am over the moon that we finally found a medication that works for her. We have been completely honest with her about why she takes it, and when she doesn't, she is able to articulate how she feels out of control and anxious. She has cut back on group counseling at school, but still has the as needed option on her 504. Her behavior has become impeccable. Her academics are off the charts (4s on all state tests so far! Including 100% of math questions answered correctly! And she won the 4th grade spelling bee!) She is gorgeous, she is funny. She is an amazing person. She is not "bad." 

Today at my cousin's memorial softball game, I saw that teacher. She was there to support my aunt. I grabbed Juliet and dragged her over. I wanted to be the change. "Hi, I don't know if you remember me..." "Jessica." "Yes! I just wanted to stop by and say hello! This is Juliet! Jules, this is Ms. l;askdjfa;d, Your first teacher." Bla bla bla. "Good bye, it was wonderful to see you."

I had closure.

I got rid of a hatred.

I'm proud.

She might have changed my life, and I might have been mad at her. But she didn't ruin my baby, she didn't ruin my life. She was the catalyst. She was not responsible. 

I feel like I took a huge step today. 

A huge step, given a push by my angel. TL <3 span="">