standing with hope

by molly klima

We made it, parents and caregivers! Here we are! After 1 million dollars in snacks, 700 hrs of video games and hours upon hours outside the kids are off to school!

New school years, for me, are always a test of trusting God with my kids. I know each of their needs. I can be anxious about whether or not they will be met. I know that our kids might be picked on or be the ones doing the picking. We’ve been on both sides of that fence. Our kids, like all kids, are not perfect. I don’t ever pretend they are. Even if our kids are provoked, they’re held accountable.

We are a neurodivergent household and the school year reinforces that reality. Neurodivergent is derived from the term “neurodiversity.” This is a broad definition used to identify those whose brains function differently than a “typical” brain, although no two brains are the same. It’s an umbrella for conditions including Austism, ADHD, Dsylexia, Dyscalculia, Intellectual Disabilities, Sensory Processing Disorder and many more. According to Pew Research, special needs students make up 15% of the student population. Which brings me to the real point of this post: kids are in the same storm at school, but they’re not in the same boat. There’s the popular meme:

Everybody’s engine and story are diffferent. Some kids have a full tank. Some kids are running on fumes. Some are empty today but will be filled tomorrow. Some are in a rescue boat but can’t see land. Someone lost a paddle this summer they can’t replace. Someone got a new boat entirely. Some learned how to put up the sails. Someone has oil leaking into their engine in places no one else can see. Someone’s engine has been repaired. And many of them are walking in with engines that don’t fire like most of their peers.

High needs or special needs parenting during the school year looks like communicating with specialists and the homeroom teacher throughout the year. Some of these people we may talk to on a weekly basis. It looks like meetings and paperwork and extra envelopes every quarter. Phone calls can be so frequent we know the principal, counselor and school secretary by the sound of their voice. Meetings for IEPs and 504 discussions and rounds of testing. Progress reports. So many emails. And I’ll admit I initiate a good amount of them. Staying on top of it all can be it’s own full-time job.

Parents and caregivers, the hard work pays off. It has taken us years to get here, but this first week of school went so smoothly I can’t help but share it. I’ll write a post another time a little bit more about the challenges we face, but here’s the reminder that even our kids with extra challenges can do hard things. Even when they’re scared and we are, too.

the warrior

Our oldest son is officially a middle schooler. How he went from preschool to middle school overnight is beyond me. A week before school he decided to be taller than me, as if the transition to middle school wasn’t enough. In all seriousness though, time goes faster than we could ever imagine and a new chapter has begun.

I always say that he’s been fighting for his life, his whole life. Born 10 weeks premature with a long list of complications after that. I like to refer to him as “The Warrior”. He’s stronger and braver than he knows. He has the best imagination I’ve ever seen. He loves art, Batman, video games and being outside. He’s shy but a loyal friend. He is the student every teacher loves to have. The Warrior is kind, polite, follows rules and is eager to learn.

School is historically one of his least favorite places to be. Every aspect is overwhelming. Instead of being a kid who doesn’t care, he’s a kid who works hard every single day to do his best. His brain is working non-stop at full speed all day long. It is exhausting. Middle school means: new students, new building, new teachers, new team of specialisits, new administrators.

Like most moms, I’m a momma bear, especially when they are going into unfamiliar territory. The closer we got to the school year, the more anxious I became. We tried to think of ways to get a head start by doing things like getting a Masterlock for him to practice with over the summer. When we atttended open house we were only able to meet one of his teachers who is also his intervention specialist. I was feeling overwhelmed and thought I was hiding it until she said, “You seem really anxious. Is there anything I can help you with?” She wasn’t talking to her new student, she was talking to me!

The weekend before school began my anxiety disappeared. I had been praying a lot and asked some friends to pray for me. I had to remind myself that he has always made it through, and this would be no different. I reminded myself that God loves him and already knows what is coming. I know that He is for my son.

The Warrior on the other hand, who had been calmer than me, began to be fearful. The night before school started we spent quite a bit of time consoling him and hearing him out. He came in our room throughout the early morning hours with specific questions, some of which we didn’t know the answer to. We got up for the day earlier than necessary but it allowed us to go back over the school map, label some things and try to answer more questions.

He was able to name his feelings and the thoughts behind them. This from a kid who was delayed significantly in his speech and struggles to articulate details, whether he’s telling you about a movie or what he needs. He kept saying, often through tears, “I can do this. There’s people I can ask for help and God is with me. It’s new for everyone.”

Truly, I think that’s impressive for any 12 year old boy. If you’re also a parent or caregiver of a child with similar struggles, you understand the magnitude of this. I was amazed at his ability to verbalize what he was thinking and feeling, and his ability to do this while remaining calm. He talked himself up all the way through the drop off line. He wiped his face, gave me a trembling smile and walked into school. Confident he’d be fine.

And he was. He came out of the school 7 hours later with a smile on his face and ready to tell me all about it. It wasn’t that his day was without difficulties but that he was able to problem-solve and figure things out. He talked to other students he didn’t know. I may have shed some of my own tears seeing how proud of himself he was and how excited he was about school. This is his tenth year in the education system and the first time he is excited about it.

This doesn’t mean his school year will be perfect. It doesn’t mean he wasn’t ready for time off by Friday. Here’s what it does mean:
He’s capable of more than he thinks
He can problem-solve and navigate new situations
He knows how to prepare himself for potential challenges
He saw prayers answered throughout his day

These are all answers to years of prayers. It comes after hours with specialists and a stream of tears. While this may be the first life change he has handled with such poise and maturity, I know it will not be his last.

So if you are in the neurodivergent world with us, hang in there. Keep advocating. Keep seeking the resoures you need. Take breaks. Be gracious with yourself. Keep praying.