School Meeting

We had a meeting a Hutton's school this morning about his "re-evaluation." They do these every three years in the special ed world, apparently, to make sure a child still qualifies for services (read: do they have to spend $).

I waited in the office for a few minutes, reading the "prepositional houses" a class of sixth graders had made, while they set up in the conference room. One of Hutton's aides came through the office and told me how adorable Hutton is, even though he "Loves Mrs. X [the other aide] and always wants to be with her, not me!" Still, I love hearing how adorable my child is. Then I walked into the conference room, where a small table was set up, with name tags all around marking places.

His occupational therapist, speech therapist, and the school nurse were there, and the school psychologist led the meeting. I sat at the place marked "PARENT!" Hutton's teacher wasn't there yet. (We heard about her child vomiting at 7:45 when she arrived a few minutes later.)

I don't really know why the nurse was there. Then again, the school psychologist asked if Hutton was on any medications, so the nurse was probably going to let us know how they could help keep him drugged at school. I told the psychologist he wasn't on any drugs, just a special diet and supplements.

Psych: "So...nothing for ADD, or anxiety?"
PARENT!: "No."
Psych: "Hmmm. OK."

Yes, apparently the "Autism expert" (read that with heavy sarcasm) school psychologist thinks we should be drugging Hutton to help with his "anxiety and ADD." I, on the other hand, consider those part of his Autism, which we're treating biomedically. You know, going to the cause of the symptoms, rather than just masking them with drugs. Oh well, as long as Autism is a "mental" disability, covered under the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of the American Psychiatric Association (DMS-IV), I guess school psychologists will be involved.

The real "experts", the therapists and I, made it a little clearer that most of Hutton's issues were sensory -- he doesn't like the computer lab when all of the computers are on at once, or the library as they are too loud. He doesn't like when lighting is not working. He must smell everything given to him, and if it smells good (as apparently, crayons, glue, and play-doh do) he will then taste it.

Fortunately, his teacher was in better form than she's been in the past, too. She referred to Hutton as a "smart cookie" at one point when discussing his academic performance, which she ranked on a Kindergarten or higher level. Everyone in the room (except the "PARENT!" of course) talked about how young Hutton is. (OH MY GOD! A 5 YEAR OLD! IN KINDERGARTEN! IMAGINE THAT!) This led me to believe that I really could have had him in preschool another year, but I'm one of those stupid parents who doesn't fight for what they think is best for their child.

Anyway, the gist of the meeting is that I have to get some forms signed by a doctor to prove Hutton still has Autism so they can continue giving him the therapies he needs which are written in his IEP. (Read: They need the form signed to get their $) Because apparently, in the World of Special Ed, kids lose their Autism diagnoses all the time. Wouldn't that be great if it were actually true?

I live for the day when I can go a re-evaluation meeting and actually have them reclassify Hutton as ineligible for services due to his losing his diagnosis.