Parson Dean - Part 1

Its been about a year since I wrote a blog post. Ironically enough this particular post is the beginning of the story about why its been so long. I also really hope it gives hope to parents and children on the same journey.

This same week last year, 2016 Parson was gearing up to start Kindergarten. Three full days of school and bus ridings. It was official...he was a school aged boy.

I guess leading into this story I need to back track a few years. Fall 2016 was not Parsons first school experience. His first school experience was when he was three. That would have been the 2014/2015 school year. He was all registered with a larger private school in our town. We went to orientation and he and we were excited.

He started school and days into the school year the reports started. "Lack of self control", "Below age level", "Loud noises", "Large motor movements at inappropriate times." He was only at school two days a week for a few hours. I would walk into the school to pick him up from his classroom filled with fear. What was the report today? Did he hit someone? Was the teacher able to teach the class? Did he learn anything? Did he spend all his time in the thinking chair? Each day the report was the same. He wasn't handling school well, at all. He did okay some days but  most not.

Im not talking academics. P had no problem with academics, well any besides fine motor skills. He could recognize and name all his letters, numbers, colors, and had a good vocabulary even though he didn't speak clearly. He also had a vast knowledge of school busses. He was always our "emotional" or "dramatic child". At this point Wyatt was just a few months old so, to us, he was just him. We didn't think anything of his behavior except that he was strong willed and loud.

Parent teacher conferences roll along and I meet with his teacher. His teacher who I still to this day appreciate tremendously, looked me in the eyes and said somethings not quite right. She suggested we talk to our Pediatrician about getting him some occupational therapy and speech therapy. I called the pediatrician on the way home from conferences and left a message. She got us a referral and I called and made the appointment. This was fall 2014.

To get appointments like this take time. Lots of time, lots of phone calls and paperwork. Bonus round, health insurance does NOT like paying for anything to do with Occupational therapy, Speech therapy, Sensory Processing Disorder, Autism Spectrum Disorder, Aspergers or anything alone the lines. Not without a written diagnosis and not without a fight.

Anyway. I get the three appointments for Parson made at Mary Free Bed Hospital. A local  well equipped rehabilitation hospital. January of 2015 he will be evaluated for a multitude of things by an Occupational Therapist, Pedatric Psychologist, and Speech Therapist. Wyatt had just turned one and would be spending the 4 plus hours with my Aunt at her in home daycare just a few miles away from the hospital we would be at. Aaron was out of town traveling for work and I was newly pregnant with Hannah.

We did all of the evaluations, hours and hours of them. P was a trooper. The therapists made it lots of fun for him but it was still a lot of work. After everything was done, all of the therapists looked at me and said. "Inconclusive, Too high functioning, Too young to tell, Too much eye contact, No motor planning delay." They agreed something wasn't right, but they didn't know at this moment.

We had the option of continuing evaluations at MFB Hospital at out of pocket costs. Im not talking a few hundred bucks guys, thousands and thousands of dollars to maybe find out what was going on in his three year old self. We decided with the help of his pediatrician that continuing these inconclusive evaluations wasn't the right next step.

The summer of 2015 we tried everything under the sun to help Parson with his sensory needs and to try and minimize his meltdowns. A wrong sock, seam, noise, or change of schedule would throw him into a tail spin. I have so many pictures of him melting down close to as many of him happy. We didn't go to public places. We tried to avoid family gatherings. We left church, small groups all kinds of things early because he couldn't handle it. We didn't eat in a restaurant for years because it was always too much. We tried every supplement that every blog, article, magazine suggested. We cut everything from his diet, sycilytes, artificial dyes, sweeteners, gluten, a lot of dairy. We used essential oils, magnesium baths, vitamins, herbs, exercise, no media at all, some media, and more gross motor exercise. Somethings helped a little and some didn't help at all.

Fast forward to Fall of 2015. Im at this point hugely pregnant with Hannah. P is starting K4 at another small private school. Smaller than the last, but the school Aaron attended for 1st through senior year grade, that I attended for my senior year. We had dreams of our kids going to this school. We couldn't wait for Parson to start. To have the same teachers his Dad and Uncle did. It was nostalgic and so special. This should have been so special. I was terrified. I don't even really know how to put into words the fear that I had going into this year.

A few days into the school year the reports and calls started coming in. I would pick him up, get the news about his day and walk as quickly out of the building as I could. The moment we would get in the car I would silently start to sob. Id text Aaron and say "He hates school. I hate school. Why does this have to be so hard for him. He does not have friends. He's not learning." Every school day we would leave the same way for the entire school year.

Not only is watching your son struggle, not have friends, to be labeled and seen as "the bad kid". Im not saying the school labeled him, I am not even saying his teacher said that, she didn't. I think you understand what I'm getting at here. On top of all of this, theres the other parents.  Id like to say what they think or thought didn't bother me, but of course it did. Many times when a child is acting out or the way Parson did you know adults are thinking "Dang that kids parents need to get him under control." I know I thought this same way until we had Parson.

This next moment at the end of this school year changed they way I interact with children and parents alike. A child from his class walked up to me and said "My family member said that Parson is bad. He's bad because you let him do whatever he wants and he does not have any consequences." You guys , this is a five year old child talking to me about what their adult family member said about my child. I looked at the student and said "Parson has consequences for his actions just like you and anyone else does when they make bad choices. I grabbed P and I practically ran out the door.

Though I may have responded decently to the student. I wanted to shake their family member. I wanted to shake them and say you have no idea. No idea how many things we've tried, how many books we've read. How many times I have had to hold my child until they scream themselves out so hard that they are nearly asleep. Be cautious when you are speaking around your children. They hear you. Be slow to judge when you see a child and parent having a difficult time. You never know what they are going through until you are in their shoes.

We had a nice scheduled summer. On Mondays we baked, on Tuesdays we went to the beach and library, on Wednesdays they spent time with their Grandma, on Thursdays we went to a special park and on Fridays we had pizza night. Rinse and repeat the whole summer. Constancy made our family run as smooth as possible.

I read nine books the summer of 2016 on parenting techniques, helping your child succeed in the classroom, strong willed children, and on children with high functioning special needs in the classroom. All along they way praying, God you know him. He's struggling, I know he's made perfectly, just they way you designed him but help me, help him. I am flying blind here. Just tell me what to do.

I felt equipped for the 2016/2017 school year. I put him on the bus the first day of school and we were all excited. I was pressing down the fear that was welling up in my soul and letting the optimism show. All the while begging God for a better year.