Topical Issues

We did it

We did it.  It all brought us here.  My little boy sat through a cumulative 4.5 hours of educational psychology assessments involving EQ, IQ and an educational battery (thank you Ritalin).  We made it through a parent interview and a feedback without 1 tear shed.  For the first time ever, I wasn’t blindsided or surprised or even sad.  They said what I already knew and the depth of what they said showed me how well they had understood my precious little person.

Is this the path that I envisaged for my son when I first cradled his tiny body?  No.  Is it the absolute best outcome of the last 3 years?  Without a doubt.  When I got the call confirming the offer of a place for Grade R for next year (at what I consider to be the premier remedial school in Johannesburg), I felt a disproportionate sense of achievement considering that I was not the one who had been assessed (even though it felt as if I was!).  I felt as if (finally) every tear, every sleepless night and every appointment and session had brought us to this point and I felt lighter than I had in a very long time.

I say the sense of accomplishment was “misplaced”, but why is it that (as mothers) we are so quick to take on the blame and the guilt, but not the progress and the achievements?  We will own the failures outright and wear them almost like a badge of honour on this rocky road of parenting a child with atypical needs.  But it is us who have filled in endless forms, sourced the right professionals, put our careers and needs on hold, driven back and forth to appointments, facilitated sessions, done homework, listened to feedback (good, bad and ugly), cried, worried and then worried some more.  Why shouldn’t we take the win when something good happens?

I don’t think I ever really paid attention to the term “mixed emotions” before.  But wow.  I have never felt so many conflicting and differing emotions at the same time as I have since embarking on this very specific journey.  Good news is never simply that.  It always brings with it a host of caveats and concerns that only exist because of the news itself.  For example, N gets into the school of our choice – in a league of its own in terms of what it can offer him (and consequently us).  The elation existed alone for about a day until it made way for my brain to go into overdrive.  What if he doesn’t cope in the new environment?  What if it isn’t the right time and we should have waited another year?  What if he doesn’t make friends?  What if we need to increase the Ritalin dose to account for the increased demands?  Will he be happy?  Out of his depth?  Will I be out of my depth with the new therapies and foundation phase educational expectations?  Am I equipped to help him learn?  To help him with homework?  The resident hamster wheel inside my head is spinning out of control.  Part of me thinks this is just my innate anxiety.  Part of me believes that I have been primed to brace myself for the other shoe dropping when it comes to all decisions and outcomes related to N, his development, his therapy and his schooling.  It is not because I don’t believe in him.  I believe in him more than anyone else does or ever could.  It is more of a defence / coping mechanism that has built up over time and experience. 

In any event, we are taking the plunge and have accepted his place for next year.  He has met his teacher and therapists for the year, as well as some of his classmate and he couldn’t be more excited.  As always, we are following the advice and recommendations of the experts and are hopefully leading N into the next chapter in the right place at the right stage.  I guess time will tell…

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