To the kids in my girl’s regular third grade classroom: Hi girls, it’s me – Abby’s mom. You see me every now and then at school events, dance class, the hockey rink and the like. You don’t know what I’m there for but you also see me at school, meeting with the special ed teacher,
I’ve been afraid of this since she was born. There’s a phenomenon in the Down syndrome community – or well, I guess the entire community of the world – where as our kids get older and toddler cuteness wears off, something changes. Not with us. With everyone else. The other kids have learned to speak
He’s going into Kindergarten and she’s going into third grade… academically, he’s more advanced than she is.
I’ve never felt passionate enough about anything to get a tattoo. But this may be it.
Who’s tired? This girl.
It’s that time of year when I take a favorite poem and bastardize to accommodate whatever’s on my mind. This year, an ode to my true love, the mindless time-waster that makes me feel accomplished and like a supreme loser at the same time.
October is Down Syndrome Awareness Month, 31 days in which members of the Down syndrome community focus on awareness, advocacy, inclusion and respect for all individuals with Down syndrome. My daughter was diagnosed a few hours after birth. * * * This is Abby. She’s 7. She’s in second grade. A regular second grade class.
If you’ve spent more than 5 minutes with me around IEP time, you know this process is the bane of my existence. It starts with a fundamental dismay that I must fight for my daughter to have the basic right to an education that my son will be granted without question. But that’s a post
Because then at some level, I’m admitting she is and will always be different.
There’s a whole lot of great things happening these days!
