Every year as Halloween approaches, I have to fight the desire to ignore the bell, bolt my door shut, and drown my sorrows in the bags of Milky Ways and M&Ms I pretended to buy for the neurotypical little goblins who pass my way. Personally I find Halloween to be the most painful time for parents of children with special needs, outside of IEP season that is, if only because those otherwise “ordinary” joys of childhood are paraded around right in front of your doorstep. Since crying in my chocolate will only ruin the chocolate, I have no choice but to laugh. So I thought I’d combine the two most painful things for parents of children with special needs – Halloween and IEPs--and share my thoughts on what some mom’s who may actually like Halloween might say at an IEP meeting.
Zombie’s mom – Take away my son’s chance for a real future, Over My Dead Body!
Goblin’s mom – Of course he goes bump in the night, that’s why I’m asking for PT services.
Dracula’s mom – Watching my son struggle through school without appropriate support is like a stake in my
heart.
Cannibal’s mom – What do you mean you won’t let him eat lunch with the other children!
Vampire’s mom – Suspend my son for sleeping in school during the daytime, really, what do you expect?
Casper’s mom – You treat my son like he’s invisible.
Zombie’s mom – My daughter’s goals should rest in IEPeace.
Werewolf’s mom – Every month my son can transition from boy to a wolf, but you can’t transition him out of high school!
Good Witch – Expecting my child to learn with the curriculum and all you people have provided, is magic thinking.
Skeleton’s mom – The team cut my child’s services down to the bare bones.
Mother of Two-headed Monster – Really my son has two good heads on his shoulders and you tell me your team can’t teach him!
Mother of Thing – A good OT, that’s all I ask!
Mommy of the Mummy- The school nurse said she wouldn’t let my son back in school until she knew what was under those bandages.
Mother of Cousin ‘It’ – How come every time there’s a case of head lice, you send my son home?
Loch Ness Monster’s mom – How could you already have an appropriate program for him, he’s the only one of his kind.
Big Foot’s mom – How can you properly service him if you don’t even believe he exists?
Ghost’s mom – All I want is a communication device. Being both invisible and non-verbal does impact his education.
Vampire’s mom – My child needs a change of placement --- night school.
Frankenstein’s mom – Putting Frank in a chemistry class in front of a bunsun burner was just asking for trouble, didn’t anyone read his IEP?
Godzilla’s mom – If he wanted to eat you he would’ve done it long before now, so stop using that as an excuse not to teach him.
Vampire’s mom – He couldn’t have missed the deadline, he’s over one hundred years old.
Frankenstein’s mother – You can’t discriminate against my son based on the color of his skin.
Cyclop’s mom – A vision itinerant? Why?
Robot’s mom – Computer lab is the only place that feels like inclusion.
Mother of the Incredible Hulk – If you had a sufficient behavior plan…
Mother of the Invisible Man – If you mark my son absent one more time while he’s in school, I’m going to file due process.
Lori, you really have a way with words!!
Sandy
Posted by: Sandy Alperstein | October 21, 2008 at 08:11 AM
IEPs are such spooky affairs. This was devilishly delightful, Lori!
Posted by: Daunna Minnich | October 21, 2008 at 09:26 AM
My favorite “Alex” Halloween story.
I was thrilled, when 10 year old Alex asked if he could go trick or treating this year rather than hiding behind my legs and growling, as we opened the door to the neighborhood children.
We picked out a costume, Elvis (I know, but really, .he *is* the king of rock and roll)
We created a Haloween Trick or treat Story board
We practiced getting in our costume (and our Elvis impression)
We practiced trick or treating
We plotted a route around the neighborhood and decided, based on the Halloween decorations, what houses he would like to visit.
We were excited! I tried to keep it light, “if we want to go that’s great, if we want to stay home and give out candy then that’s great too. You’re the boss on Halloween.” But I secretly hoped he would at least go to one house - -to experience the thrill of the candy hitting the bottom of your bag, just once.
Then, before we knew it, Halloween was here. Alex got dressed, whispering all the plans to himself over and over and over. We took a final look at our story board and off we went. Alex and his entourage (mom, uncle, 2 aunts and 4 grandparents) stepped out in to the night.
We all walked quietly around Alex as he whispered to himself “ring the door bell; say, trick or treat” over and over and over, for about a block and a half. He picked a house that was not too scary. He and I broke off from the pack and walked up to the house, I held his hand to help him up the stairs. He reached out and rang the bell! All on his own! My heart soared. The door opened, the man smiled at Elvis. Alex opened his mouth and yelled, “doorbell”.
The guy who answered the door laughed and gave him *three* piece of candy.
Alex was thrilled.
He walked away self talking, “that wasn’t right, its trick or treat, trick or treat, trick or treat.
He picked another house, rang the bell, yelled, “doorbell” and the next house and the next house and the next house.
I was so proud.
Posted by: Tara | October 27, 2008 at 04:56 PM