Thursday, February 17, 2011


Today I decided that it's a bad idea to schedule your kid's developmental assessment on the same day as a majorly heavy therapy session.

Though I wasn't entirely sure what to expect from W's assessment, I certainly didn't expect it to be as nerve-wracking and exhausting as it was. I spent a good two hours tense and sweating on a chair in the corner while W "played." A couple of days ago, I was researching something related to W, but not at all related to assessments, and saw a link to an article titled something along the lines of, "Surviving Your Child's Developmental Assessment." I laughed. Why would anyone needs tips on "surviving" an assessment? It's not really that big of a deal. Now I know.

The ironic thing is, after all the worrying I did, now that he's qualified for services, I'm not even sure what, exactly, those services entail. The way some of the assessors were talking, it doesn't sound like they provide much of anything except some playgroups (that probably meet in the middle of the day on weekdays and will be super convenient for us to get to). We meet with our specialist next week, which will hopefully give me the answers I want.

Related to that, they're coming to our house for this meeting. Why, why, why do these people insist on doing meetings at my house??? The initial contact we had with this agency was at our house, two days after Christmas, in the middle of the morning. So I had to present a clean house right after Christmas and had to take the day off of work because of the scheduling. They wanted to do W's assessment at our house, too. I turned that option down, even though it meant waiting two months to get the damn thing done. Now, our specialist is coming to the house. And we apparently get to have quarterly meetings - at our house - with our coordinator, who I've determined is pretty much a glorified secretary. All she really does is schedule appointments for me, which is more of a pain in the ass than anything. The way it works is she'll call me with two or three potential appointment times, and if none work, she calls the other place, gets more times, calls me back, and the process repeats. It's a highly inefficient use of time, if you ask me. I could schedule this stuff by myself much more easily.

But I digress. Back to the swirling.

Anyway, at the end of the assessment, I'm pulled into a conference room with about eight other people who've been observing and assessing W. They go around the table and tell me all about his deficiencies (it wasn't anything I didn't already know, but hearing it from strangers always makes me feel like a mom failure), and tell me he qualifies for services. The emotions related to this are complicated. I've had happiness, concern, fear, disappointment, and more swirling around in my head. It's all very overwhelming - and this is coming from a well-educated, fairly intelligent woman who prepared for the assessment and its possible consequences; I can't even imagine how dealing with this would if I didn't have this stuff working to my advantage.

But, on a happy note, W got a pretty cool dinosaur ABC book and some goldfish for a snack, so I think he considered it a successful morning.

A bit later in the afternoon, I had a counseling session. I knew it wasn't going to be a pretty one. And it wasn't. I brought up some ugly stuff I'm dealing with and had to face it, which is never an easy task. Although I felt better when we were done, there's a lot to mull over. So much is swirling around in my head about me, my family, my life, that it's starting to resemble a tornado in there. And it's making me a bit nauseated.

The happy bit from counseling is that I confessed to some things in my head that I've been hiding, even from my counselor, but didn't end up in the psych ward (which has been something of a real concern for me). So...hooray?

Anyway, that was my day. It's been a swirling mess of emotions. Which really isn't so different from any other day in the recent past, I suppose. I just know where the storm is coming from today.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I just want to say, I agree with everything your saying about those people. I've had them show up, unannounced at my house. 8 a.m. on a Tuesday, yeah, not a good time. I was still in bed. They *thought* they told me. They didn't. It has happened more than once. We ended up qualifying for some *secret* money they give to people who make outside of what their monetary guidlines are. So I'm sticking with it because our insurance sucks and won't cover speech therapy. I have yet to go to a playgroup.

Hang in there with them.