Why Homeschool?

  I feel stuck right now. I'm in that place where no option seems like a good option and so you find yourself weighing bad against worse trying to decide which path to take.
  A little background, I started homeschooling Cole in November of this year because the public school system was failing him miserably. He was put in a class for "Emotionally Disturbed" children and the children in his class we extremely disturbed indeed. The method of discipline was to shut unruly children in a "quiet room", which was a tiny closet sized room with concrete walls and floor. The teacher pointed out to me that it was painted "soothing" colors, as if being locked in a soft aquamarine room as opposed to gray makes any damn difference at all. Cole is not an unruly child, in fact he is very concerned with following rules so he never was put into that room. I made it clear that he should NEVER be put in that room. Despite not being subjected to it directly, what he saw in that class was awful.
  He described kids screaming and cussing, flipping their desks over, eating crayons, and being stripped of their shoes and shoved into this "quiet room" where they would continue to scream and beat against the walls. Once he came home and told me a kid removed his clothes and said he was going to "poop and pee" on the walls. Cole didn't know for sure if he did, but he said the janitor had to come in and clean the room after the child was removed. I was aghast. This wasn't an asylum in the 1950's... it was a public school classroom in the 20th century!
  When one of these children began to threaten Cole with violence I became very worried. I complained, I called an IEP meeting, I called the superintendent, and I was met with complete indifference. No one cared that this child had threatened to beat up, even kill, my son. Not only was this kid a bully, he was a deeply disturbed bully and that worried me.
  Three days after I gave birth to Autumn I got a phone call saying that this child had attempted to stab Cole with a pen. He was tackled by a teacher and teacher's aide and pulled off Cole before he could do more than graze Cole's arm. Cole came home shaking and nauseous from the stress. I was beyond angry. I was angry that no one seemed to have seen this coming and even after the child attacked Cole they still seemed to be completely indifferent. I called the police and they took a report but said there was nothing they could do because the child was mentally ill. The officer felt bad for me and called the school resource officer to see if there was anything more he could do. The resource officer knew this child by name and said he was dangerous. It was then I decided I was going to homeschool. I really felt I had no other choice.
   I was totally unprepared, I had a baby who was less than a week old and it was several months into the school year. I had no curriculum and no game plan. I had an anxiety attack that lasted for a solid week as I gathered the documentation I needed to pull him out of public school. I like to have a plan of action for everything, I don't do spontaneous.
   To add to the stress Chloe's teacher felt the need to tell me every single day that my daughter, who has classic ADHD, was not paying attention (Oh really? A child with attention deficit is displaying a deficit in attention? How could that be?) She had a 504 plan, which the school chose to lose first and then ignore. I couldn't balance trying to homeschool Cole and the constant requests from Chloe's teacher for meeting so that we could re-hash the fact that Chloe was displaying classic symptoms of ADHD. She was on meds which caused side-effects that the teacher then wrote me emails about (Chloe is "in a fog", Chloe "seems withdrawn") even the psychiatrist was annoyed. Those things are common side effects of the meds she was on, not a sign that there was something "going on" with Chloe. I hesitate to call any teacher stupid, but ... well. After explaining 5,456,789 times to this woman that meds are not a cure, and they come with their own drawbacks and she was going to HAVE to accommodate Chloe in other ways (i.e. help with note-taking skills, allow extra time to complete work, etc) I just decided to homeschool her too.
  So here I am. I am SO frustrated with this, I cry just about everyday. I was woefully unprepared and I too have OCD and ADHD, so it's a case of the blind leading the blind. I feel like I am unable to focus and organize enough to be effective as a teacher. In one sense I can understand what they deal with better than anyone because I am dealing with it too. I have tried giving myself pep-talks and I have tried convincing myself they are learning despite the slooooow pace (welcome to OCD land, where everything moves in slow motion). It's a constant battle. I am so tired. I am stuck.
 

Motherhood is a gift

  I became a mother for the first time at eighteen years old. My oldest son, Cole Bryant, was born on September 17th 2002. That day changed my life forever in so many ways, I think Elizabeth Stone said it best when she said: "Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."

    When Cole was born I had all the hopes and dreams for him that every mother has for her child; I wanted him to grow up happily, to go to school, get married, and have a fulfilling life that was free from some of the struggles I dealt with as a child. The first time I held him I promised him that I would do everything in my power to protect him from pain. I promised him that I would be there for him, no matter what. I remember that moment vividly even today, nine years later. I could not have known the implications of those promises as I sat cradling him in the hospital room that day. I remember how his dark blue eyes gazed intently into mine as if he understood me. I could not have known that a few short years later I would struggle to get those blue eyes to meet my gaze even for a second. I never dreamed that he would have trouble reciprocating or even understanding my love for him the way most children do. I could have never imagined that the pain I vowed to protect him from would originate inside his own mind. When I promised to do everything in my power to protect him, I never knew how powerless I would eventually be. The moment he was born I thought I understood what it meant to be a mother, but I had no idea. 

   Cole was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder at age six and later at age eight he was diagnosed with very severe Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. 

  The struggles were immense, he went years and got half a dozen different diagnoses before doctors (and there were many doctors) settled on the two he now has. He went through genetic screenings, MRIs, sleep deprived EEGs, and so many psychological, educational, and neurological evaluations I lost count. What I hear most often about Cole is how unique and complex he is. No one wrote a book on how to deal with a child like Cole. I think one day I should, because he can't be the only one.

    Because I am Cole's mother I have had to become more of a fighter than I ever thought I could be. I had to become and advocate for him and through him I found a passion to advocate for all children like him. Because I am Cole's mother I have had to learn to deal with the death of many ideals, I have had to question my views on success and happiness and see things in a different light. I have to live life completely outside of the box.

  Cole isn't my only child, he is by far the one who presents the most challenges, but I have three other children. That leads many people to question why I would go one to have three more kids after having one with special needs. The answer is simple, I view motherhood as a gift. There are days when it's so hard that it feels unbearable, there are days when you question yourself, when you want to cry, and moments when you wish you had time for a long bath or that those stretch marks and worry lines weren't there. I have never thought it was supposed to easy, but it's a gift despite the hard times.

  There is nothing that compares to holding a new life in your arms, to look into those eyes that are seeing the world for the first time and to know that you get to be their guide and protector for a little while. Could there be a more awesome responsibility? Is there a more important job than the creation and nurturing of a human being? I love being a mother, it's something I feel I have dedicated my life to. I want a big family. I think I deserve to have that choice, I take this job seriously and I made all of my children the same promise as I held them in the hospital for the first time. I will do everything in my power to protect them and I will be there for them no matter what.

   The reason I mention Cole in my first blog is because it was his birth and the challenges we have faced with him that defined the word mother for me. In the face of developmental disability and mental illness it's pretty easy to say "I didn't sign up for this" and check out. It would be easy to "leave it to the professionals" and the schools to teach and treat. It takes a concentrated effort to be the mother of a child with special needs. You fill so many more roles than you thought you would have to; you become a psychologist, a nutritionist, an occupational/speech/physical therapist, you become a walking encyclopedia on your child's illness and you suddenly find the need to become an expert on special education law and the ins and outs of the various state agencies that are supposed to provide assistance to those with special needs. It's an enormous task to undertake but mothers rise to the challenge and would never even give it a second thought. You take a very real emotional walk through the proverbial fire for your child.

   Along this journey I have met other mothers who amaze and inspire me. I think that without even knowing it they helped teach me what a gift motherhood is. I don't think they see how strong they are, to them they are just doing their job as mothers. That is what I have the most admiration for, is how they don't even conceive of doing anything different. You give 150% because that's what you owe your child. 

  Yes, to me a child is a gift no matter what their individual challenges in life. Being someone's mother is a gift too, nothing will shape you, fulfill you, challenge you, or fill your heart like motherhood.

The moment a child is born, the mother is also born.  She never existed before.  The woman existed, but the mother, never.  A mother is something absolutely new.  ~Rajneesh