There were some signs that concerned us slightly as early as first grade, such as confusing b and d, p and q, 6 and 9, and 5, 2, and S; flipping letters and numbers; reading ending sounds first; and not being able to recall a letter, sound, or even a word he had just learned or struggled through one sentence prior. He had a hard time concentrating and focusing on the task at hand. Because of the concerns we had, we spoke with various people and read many articles trying to determine if our concerns were valid. We were informed by multiple people to wait, that most children are not even tested for learning disabilities until they are in third grade, and that many times children will outgrow some of these issues.

We continued to monitor our son throughout first and second grade, but his difficulties did not lessen, and he did not outgrow them. He became more and more frustrated, especially in the areas of reading and writing. It was obvious to us that he was quickly beginning to lose confidence in his ability to learn. Our school day resembled one of the battlefields we were learning about in our history curriculum. As a result, we began to research what tools were available to determine what the exact learning issues were and how to help our son, to ensure he had the best educational path available to him.

Through our research and much prayer, we developed a plan. The first step was to have his eyes checked. We needed to ensure that his vision was not the basis of his struggle to read. There are vision therapies that can be helpful for some students who have eye muscle weakness or convergence problems. Once we completed that testing, we checked into what avenues were available to have him tested for possible learning disabilities such as dyslexia, dysgraphia, etc. We determined we could make an appointment with a private screening company, a psychiatrist, or our local independent school district’s Special Services department and put our tax dollars to work.

School districts in Texas have funding that gives them the ability to offer “special services,” such as help with visual or auditory impairment, speech difficulties, learning disabilities, autism, etc., to private school and home school students, not just those students who are publicly educated. Because it was most cost effective, we contacted our local school district and made an appointment to meet with the Special Services representative.

When we contacted Special Services in our school district, we were informed that they had helped other home schoolers who had speech issues but they had never helped a home school family in addressing other learning disabilities. Through research on their part, we were given the option of full evaluation and were also provided with a specific reading curriculum to use until we could further assess the situation. It was obvious that our son met many of the criteria for a diagnosis of dyslexia. We began to incorporate the reading curriculum, with accompanying computer software, into our daily lesson plans.

We were also informed that children with dyslexia basically need to work twice as hard, if not more so, to learn and retain information. Repetition and consistency became a daily necessity. The fact that our son needed consistency caused us to see the need to have regularity in our school year and not take off long periods of time for various holidays and summer vacations. Another important aspect in teaching dyslexic children is to teach in a way that encompasses all of the senses. This is referred to as a multisensory teaching approach. For example, we had our son use his fingers to write his letters in a box lid filled with cornmeal. He would hear the letter spoken, say it himself, feel the letter as it was written, and see the letter written. We also used a math curriculum that incorporated manipulatives to give him that hands-on understanding. As parents and teachers, opening our minds to embrace such a multifaceted approach to learning opened up a world of opportunities to be creative and have fun with our teaching methods and not be tied down to strictly “book learning,” which was not meeting the needs of this particular child.

We also decided to locate someone who would be willing to read with our son several times a week. The idea was to have someone, other than Mom or Dad, be a fresh face to work with and possibly relieve some of the “I’ve already done that” or “You are making me do too much” attitude we were encountering. God provided just such a friend. Instead of only reading with him, she began to use a borrowed dyslexia curriculum that incorporated various evaluations to locate his specific issues and began to teach him from it. In addition, we have been using a wonderful computer curriculum called My Reading Coach.

Our son has come a long way and found much success in his ability to decipher words, the fluency of his reading, and his ability to comprehend the stories he is reading. He has even picked up a book on his own without prompting and read of his own volition. He has much more to work hard toward and accomplish, but we have overcome the initial “stop sign” that halted his ability to really move forward in this aspect of his learning process. He is now on a road that is still full of curves and bends, potholes and bumps, but he is moving forward at a steady pace.

As for his parents, we have learned much alongside our son. We have learned to fully embrace learning and not limit it to a classroom-type setting. We have also learned to set aside our pride and ask for and accept help from others, to the benefit of our family. We have realized that a bumpy road is sometimes the best because it grows each one of us in our dependence upon our Creator, Who created each of us so uniquely, and it draws us closer together in community, in helping others, and in accepting help from others.

The post Reading Roadblock appeared first on Texas Home School Coalition.

Read the letter.

The post Letter to Department of Aging and Disability Services appeared first on Texas Home School Coalition.

So if God is not the grandfatherly type, what makes us, as home schoolers, think that He has grandchildren? I know—you are thinking, “I do not think God has grandchildren!” Do you, though? How often do we think that our children are automatically Christians because we are? Do we think that their salvation is in home schooling, in being with us all the time, in isolation from worldly influences that might taint their thinking? If only we can control all of the input, we can control the outcome. Do you think that? If so, are you playing God in your children’s lives and relegating God to grandfatherly status?

The Bible clearly states that our children are gifts from God. Our own lives, for those of us who profess Christ, are not really our own—they are bought with a price. What makes us think, if our very own lives are not really our own, that our children’s lives are any more so?

No, our lives are not our own. Neither are our children’s. Our children are God’s children, and we are merely stewards.

So if we are not God, then what must we do as stewards of these children, in order to ensure that their relationship with Him is not lost to grandchild status? Grandparents tell us all the time how wonderful it is to have grandchildren. They almost always remind us, though, that the children go home with someone else.

On a spiritual level, do you want your children to go home with someone else? If not, then you must be a responsible steward and point them to Christ, who is the only Door for them into the presence of God. For all that you may have learned and all that God’s grace has provided for you, each child must also find his own relationship with God through Christ. Anything less is a counterfeit.

One of my precious sisters in Christ, also the mother of a special needs child, sent me an e-mail today. Three days ago her son was near death. His needs are much more severe than our son’s, but we easily could have been in her shoes. In her e-mail, she described her profound attachment to her son. As she watched him suffer, the Lord asked her to give him up, in much the same way that Abraham laid Isaac on the altar. In the process, she learned an important truth that all of us need to remember. She said in her e-mail:

I no longer have to carry a burden to “make MATTHEW WELL.” I truly do know that God has Matthew in His hands. I am just a diaper changer for Jesus … and Matthew’s caregiver … not his savior. *

Does that sound familiar? Have you ever thought that you needed to be your child’s savior? I wonder, with the divorce rate so high among special needs families, if sometimes dads leave because they feel like failures at saving their kids. And who knows the mom of a special child who is not rabidly obsessive, as a friend of ours says, about that special child? There are a few, but most of us have to admit that we fall into that category.

No matter how many programs I try, how many supplements with which I gag my child, how many new recipes I try in the process of putting him on some miracle diet, how many different curricula I try as we learn to add and subtract (for yet another year), how many doctors and therapists and labs to which I drag him—no matter what I do, I am not his savior. I am his mother, his nurturer, and by virtue of being a home schooler, I am also his teacher. But I am not his savior.

This fact is no less true for my children who are developing typically. No matter what curricula I use, or how many Bible stories I read, or how many biology labs or basketball teams or dance classes in which I register them, I am not their savior. I am mother, nurturer, teacher—but I am not God.

When God spoke to Moses through the burning bush, Moses asked Him what to tell the people when they asked who sent him. God spoke, “I AM.” When He said those words, He echoed down through the ages, “And Patsy, You Are Not.” I am not God. When I pretend to know it all, do it all, or have all the answers for my child (or yours), I am removing Him from the throne of my life and placing myself there.

Lord, keep me humble. Ouch. How afraid are you to say those words? Are you afraid that something bad will happen to your child if you do? Then you have put yourself on the throne of control. You need to admit to your child—and to yourself—that you are not in control.

Are you afraid that your child will see your imperfections and respect you less if you admit that you are wrong? Then once again, you have elevated yourself to the position of God in his life—and told him a lie that he will discover one day. Allow yourself to admit to your child that you are not perfect. Otherwise, you may confuse your child regarding who God really is.

What will your child say some day when his children ask, “What does God look like?”

Will his response look like a grandfather, who loves the child but lives far away from him, or will your child follow an example that you can set today and point his own child to Christ, that He might usher the child into the knowledge and presence of the Father?

May our children be God’s children—for God does not have grandchildren.

*Name changed to protect the child’s privacy. Since the first draft of this article was written, Matthew has gone into the arms of Jesus for eternity, where he is free from the physical bonds that restrained him here. With his family, we are thankful for his relationship with Christ, Matthew’s true Savior and healer.

The post God’s Grandchildren appeared first on Texas Home School Coalition.

What is a special needs child?

One needs to ask, “Does the difference affect the way the child needs to be taught, or does the family have to make accommodations for the child in their lifestyle?”  If the answer is yes, then that is a special needs child.

How difficult will this be?

Parents need to understand that making this decision is essentially a commitment to becoming an expert in this child’s needs.   “Special needs” is such a wide term that it is really not possible to find someone who can provide all the information to every special needs family for every potential need.  Reading and research will be necessary and quite beneficial.

Where do we find curriculum?

There is no standard curriculum for special needs children.  The possibilities are endless. Getting advice from someone familiar with the variety of curricula available, preferably someone who does not have a financial interest in selling a product, is a good idea.  More important than buying a particular curriculum is knowledge about how to use it in a way that makes it meaningful for the child.  This is why it is so important to research the child’s needs.  Books about learning styles may provide valuable tips to parents who choose not to pursue a label for the child.

Should we get a label for this child?

Labeling is only helpful if it leads the parents/teachers to find information that helps the child learn and succeed.  Labeling is pointless if it is an excuse for the child, a way for parents to get out of battling a challenging child, or a reason for outsiders to presuppose certain behaviors.  Some parents test the child, get a label, and never tell others about it.  Others choose to make the issue public, especially for a child who looks typical but has highly atypical behaviors.  Still others never put a label on the problem but simply deal gently but firmly with the behaviors and work diligently to give loving instruction on academic subjects.  Each family must make that decision privately.

More important than the label is the identification of certain barriers to learning.  Dealing with those in a loving manner is far better than exasperating the child by expecting something he is incapable of doing.

Labels are productive only insofar as they lead to constructive results for parents and child.

Do we need to write an IEP?

Families familiar with the public school system are aware of Individualized Education Plans prepared by the schools for each child in special education programs.  These plans are useful tools for identifying areas of growth for the child.  If a child is being removed from the public school system, it is a good idea to have his most recent IEP to help determine what have already been identified as helpful modifications for him.  Children who have never been in public school benefit from an IEP the way travelers benefit from a map—parents have an idea which areas need work so that something is not neglected.

There is no legal requirement for an IEP for a child who is not enrolled in public school.

What kind of records should we keep?

As in all aspects of the homeschool experience, balance is the key.  While the state of Texas does not require any records, parents who anticipate leaving the state at some point should probably consider keeping records in case the state to which they move requires them.  Record keeping is a good habit to get into, but it is not required.  Keeping samples of the student’s work allows the parent to see progress, which can be motivating in challenging moments.  Documents related to testing and outside therapies are helpful for planning and for future reference.

Records are not required, but samples of student work as well as testing documents are helpful.

How does the parent/teacher cope?

Support is critical for any homeschooler.  For a family with a special needs child, that is even more important.  Membership in a nearby support group can be encouraging.  Networking with other families that have special needs children may provide ideas.    Depending on the severity of the child’s special need, a respite care provider who understands the child’s needs can give the parent(s) a regular break.  If relatives live nearby, their help and support could make a difference for the family.

The post Homeschooling Special Needs Children appeared first on Texas Home School Coalition.

Choose laughter.

If you are the parent of a special child, you know that some of the things your special child does are downright funny. So laugh. Some of the things he says are funny. Laugh. Some of the things that happen as you deal with agencies and service providers are so ridiculously absurd that they border on hilarious. Choose to laugh.

In my BC days (Before Children), I taught Spanish in a local high school. I had the privilege of teaching Spanish for Heritage Speakers, a class for students who already spoke the language. One of my students was a young man from El Salvador. He had escaped his homeland during a time of war. This student told me jokes almost every day, and I enjoyed repeating them to the other Spanish teachers.

One day a colleague asked me, “Patsy, why is it all the jokes you tell us in Spanish are about dead people?”

Oh, my! I had not even realized it. I said, “I don’t know. I just tell the ones Willie tells me.”

The next day I asked Willie about it. He explained it this way: “Miss, in my country, we saw a lot of death. We had to choose. If you didn’t laugh about it, you cried. I chose to laugh.”

I often tell parents who homeschool special kids, “You are homeschooling in a war zone.” All bets are off regarding anything normal in life. Normal is just a setting on your dryer anyway. Nothing is normal in my home. Every day is one continuous interruption, one surprise after another, one event after another. Nothing is smooth. No two days are alike. We make attempts at schedules, but they are not rigid–they cannot be.

So if I, like Willie, live in a war zone, then I have the same choice to make that Willie made. I can cry. Or I can laugh. If I try to make everything in my life make sense, I will go crazy. If I try to explain absolutely everything until my son understands what I have said, he and I will go down that crazy road together. If I try to understand everything he says and does, normal will not even be a word that could be applied to me (not that it is anyway!).

Sometimes, I just choose to laugh.

I learned to choose laughter when our son was still a preschooler. Although I tried to keep flat surfaces clear, I was rarely successful. Our kitchen table always seemed to have something on it besides the usual kitchen items. One day, my search for the stapler took me to the kitchen table, but despite all my best efforts, I could not get it to work. Of course, like everyone who has ever had a stapler malfunction, I picked it up, opened the hinge, and looked at the mechanism. Much to my surprise (or maybe my chagrin), there was dried green Jell-O® in the slot from which a staple should have emerged.

Since we had been learning from an autism specialist to be detectives in our son’s life and try to analyze all of his actions in order to understand him better, I immediately went into detective mode and tried to figure this one out. Now, what kind of questions does one pose to herself when trying to figure out dried, green Jell-O® in a stapler? The one that immediately came to mind was this: What was he trying to staple to Jell-O®?

Lest you think that this question was easily resolved, let me assure you that it was not. I was in the midst of not just days or weeks of sleep deprivation but literally years of not sleeping through the night. I am not sure how many brain cells I lost during that time, but I am quite sure that the ones that were left had absolutely no answer for the question I had posed to myself.

It was in that moment that I finally realized this critical philosophy: I can go crazy trying to figure this out, or I can just laugh at the absurdity of it.

I chose laughter, and since that day, our family has enjoyed so much less stress, because we have learned that fact is, indeed, stranger than anything anyone could make up. We do not need television sitcoms. Life itself is funny!

One of the greatest compliments our family has ever received came from the young woman who is our son’s attendant. She is in our home forty hours a week, so she sees a lot of life here. She told me recently, “I think your family laughs more than any other family I know. You find the humor in everything.”

I am not suggesting that you undermine your own authority with your child. I do not mean that you should allow open defiance. But if his explanation for WHY he did what he did makes a lot of sense when taken in HIS context, laugh!

Maybe we all need to take ourselves less seriously. And has it ever occurred to you that that may be the very reason God gave you this special child to begin with?

The post Choose Laughter appeared first on Texas Home School Coalition.

The road less traveled, Robert Frost once said,
And every poet since ponders thoughts in his head
Of roads not taken and paths not tread.

At some point in our lives, most of us look back and wonder if we have chosen the right path.  When I look back, however, I find the roads not taken are distant and vague, so it is the paths I have taken upon which I choose to reflect.  Some of those paths were trod by only a few before me, and the road was difficult to follow at times, but as Frost well knew, the paths led ever onward and never back.  The decision to homeschool now lies in my past, behind many bends, but sometimes it is good to look back and reflect on the paths that have brought me to where I am today.

When my oldest son Justin turned four, I began to think about his education.  I wanted him to have a Christian education, but we already had three little boys, and I knew we could not afford private school for all of them, so we decided to homeschool.  I did not know then where that road would take us, but the decision would forever change the course of my life and the lives of my children.

Justin turned five in August 1991, and I began homeschooling him that fall.  I thought that if I “messed up,” we could always send him to school the following year.  I soon realized, however, that teaching numbers, letters, and phonics was not as difficult as I had imagined.  Many other aspects of his school day were routine in our home—things such as nature walks and story time—so our first year of home schooling was a very pleasant experience.  I loved my boys, and I enjoyed having Justin at home to spend his day learning and playing with his brothers.

That spring, however, our lives took a sharp bend through a deep valley when Justin was left severely brain damaged after his second open-heart surgery.  We endured months of hospitalization and many months of intense therapy.  Jennifer was born while Justin was still hospitalized, so I had three small children for whom to care, in addition to the intensive care Justin now required.  In January 1993, Justin’s therapists began to suggest we place him in a special education program in the public school to give me some respite.  Suddenly, the thought of putting even one of my children into the public school system seemed appalling.

I contacted the Texas Home School Coalition and asked if they could give me any information on how to homeschool a special needs child.  They gave me some information on NATHHAN* (National Challenged Homeschoolers Associated Network).  The people at NATHHAN were friendly and compassionate.  They offered a quarterly newsletter that was full of helpful ideas and encouraging articles.  They had a membership directory, and they took my name and phone number and asked if I would like to talk to another member family.

A few days later, I received a phone call from Janet Norton, a member of NATHHAN who lived in a nearby city.  It was not long before Don and Janet Norton with their beautiful children were sitting in my living room.  That visit began a bond of friendship that would last a lifetime.

Janelle and David were twins and the youngest of the five Norton children.  They were only a month younger than Justin.  While David was a healthy child, Janelle was born with cerebral palsy—her abilities and limitations very similar to Justin’s.  Janet’s friendship was the encouragement that I needed to follow my convictions and continue to school Justin at home.  God provided the help I needed when I needed it, and although the path we were then on was not well-worn, it was nice to know I was not traveling alone.  He would not only travel this path with me but also provide companions along the way.

As we travel life’s trail, we discover it can often be full of valleys and peaks.  Our family faced another valley in the spring of 2001 when the death of my husband suddenly left us traveling alone.  My children and I spent the summer in a state of shock while we tried to take care of farm business, settle farm accounts, and prepare equipment for sale, so I was unprepared when well-meaning family members asked if I still planned to homeschool.  Again, the thought of sending even one of my precious children away to school after the death of their father never even occurred to me.  God had provided for me in the past, and I knew He would continue taking care of me.  Fall came, and somehow we managed to cut firewood for winter, maintain our property, care for our animals, care for Justin, and still get our schoolwork done.

Since that time, I have been homeschooling as a single mom.  It has not been easy, but God is faithful.  Our needs have always been met, many times in unexpected ways.  Sometimes when “two roads diverge” before us, it is not easy to choose which path to take, but often the harder choice is to continue traveling the path our hearts tell us to tread.  I will never regret my decision to continue to homeschool, even when difficult circumstances arise in my life and make that decision questionable.

Justin went home to be with the Lord on March 3, 2004, after ten months of hospice.  His life was lived among the people who loved him most, his family.  Although his last year was very difficult, I am glad his siblings were there to help with his care and spend their school days in his presence.  The experience has given them lasting memories and invaluable lessons of love.

I will always be grateful to people like the Lamberts who blazed a trail for others to follow, and I can only hope to clear a few twigs and perhaps make the path a little easier for those who follow.

*Editor’s note:  There is now also a group in Texas for families with special needs children, Texas Special Kids.

The post The Roads I Have Traveled appeared first on Texas Home School Coalition.

In those discouraged moments, I am drawn back to a realization of who I am. I did not choose this life. I am a chosen one. I have been blessed, entrusted with a fragile gift, the responsibility of raising a challenged child.

My emotional release comes through writing. In one of those moments of despair several years ago, I wrote an essay, its conclusion writing itself. I reread it when I am discouraged. I share it with you now. If you do not have a disabled child, perhaps it will give you a glimpse into my world. If you are like me, a chosen parent, even if your child’s needs are different than my child’s, may you be blessed to take a ride on the roller coaster of my life.

Of Windmills and Roller Coasters

A story circulates among parents of special needs children, one that is meant to encourage them and give them hope. The story tells of a couple who planned a trip to Rome, learning the language and customs, studying the history, choosing the sites to see. They finally embarked on this trip, and when the plane landed, they were alarmed to hear the airline attendant say, “Welcome to Holland!” The language was different. The sites were not the same. The history was less familiar to them. They were in shock, unable to enjoy themselves because they were not in the place they expected to be.

Eventually, though, they learned to speak the language. They came to appreciate Holland for its windmills and beautiful flowers, for the slower pace of life afforded by not being in a commonly visited place like Rome. They reached a point not only of acceptance but also of finding joy in where they had landed. The intention of the story is that parents of disabled children will see that they, too, can accept their children’s slower developmental pace and learn to appreciate life’s beauty in that setting.

Homeschooling an autistic child has not been at all like the experience described in this essay. I suspect that there are other disabilities that are similar to the Rome vs. Holland comparison, but autism is not one of them.

I like to compare my experience to an amusement park. I get in a long line of people, thinking I am waiting to get on the merry-go-round. It is a familiar, safe ride. All the animals look pretty much the same, none of them truly dangerous, all going the same direction. With the exception of some that move up and down while others stand still, they all make the trip around the circle in pretty much the same fashion. That is a ride I can appreciate—safe, fun, smooth, easy, gentle.

When I arrive at the front of the line, however, I discover that this line does not take me to the merry-go-round. Instead, I am seated and strapped into the wildest, fastest roller coaster in the park. As the coaster now makes its twists and turns, I can look down and see the merry-go-round blithely making its trips around the center post, its riders relatively oblivious to the experiences I am having, except to occasionally look up and say, “I could never ride that thing. It looks too intense for me.”

Meanwhile, I wait breathlessly at the top of a hill, knowing that at any second the slow clicking of the back of the train getting over the hill will stop, and we will dash wildly into a valley the bottom of which I cannot see, because the angle is too steep. As the bottom approaches, will we rise to another hilltop, or will we twist almost violently into another turn, a complete reversal of direction? Only the designer knows for sure, and it is his skill that I must trust.

Just as a roller coaster’s design is carefully examined before it is ever built; just as it is tested multiple times for speed, efficiency, and safety before riders ever get into the seats for the first time; so also this roller coaster called Parenting a Child with Autism is familiar to the One who saves and protects me as I travel its rails. I do not accuse Him of designing a ride that is unfair or unjust. I do know, though, that He is able to save me, to protect me, and to bring me safely to the end of the ride one day. And just as I get off thrilling roller coasters at amusement parks with a great appreciation for the designers whose skills brought me a few moments of excitement, so also I can survive the scary moments of this coaster, knowing that, in the end, I will have a great appreciation for the Designer Whose skills brought me safely to the end of this ride, Who gave me more thrills than the greatest roller coaster a man could ever build.

The post Chosen appeared first on Texas Home School Coalition.

Independent Living

Will this young adult be able someday to live alone?

If not, which safety and self-help skills can be developed in order to improve quality of life both for the young adult and for the caregiver?

If the plan is for the young person eventually to live independently, consider the need for developing skills in the following areas:

• self-care (hygiene, clothing care, etc.)
• housekeeping
• meal preparation and food safety

money management

• interacting with outside providers such as landlords, utility companies, salespeople, telephone solicitors, and people at the door

Social Skills

Does this young adult interact appropriately in social settings?

Does he have understanding friends, both typical and challenged peers? Or is he totally dependent on family for social interaction?

Can she interact appropriately with strangers?

Does he read nonverbal social cues, or does he need help developing that skill?

Is her language understandable? Does she need practice communicating with strangers in unfamiliar situations?

Work Related Skills

What does this young adult want to do in his work life?

What skills are necessary to perform that job? If his expectations are outside his exhibited capabilities, can you redirect those intentions into something similar? For example, could someone who might struggle in veterinary school be encouraged to study to be a veterinary assistant?

If the young person is not yet sure about what to do, emphasize the positive. Find areas in which he already exhibits strengths, and work toward developing those strengths into marketable skills.

An Academic Future?

What will your young adult do after high school?

What does your young person want to do? Is everyone involved in this decision being reasonable in their expectations for the future? Is college essential for what he will do in the future, or is there just an assumption in your family or circle of friends that college is “what everyone does” after high school? Is it necessary? The young person’s motivation is a key factor in making these decisions. Your opinion, while valid and worthwhile, should not be the deciding factor.

Is trade school in the picture? What about apprenticeship? Is college a possibility or a necessity for the future vocation? Work backwards—find out what skills must be in place in order to gain entrance into the intended program, and work toward developing those skills. If an academic program is a possibility, work toward independence in study skills, test-taking, and interaction with authority figures (such as professors). If trade school or apprenticeship is the goal, aim for safety skills or other appropriate skills.

Begin to direct this young adult toward as much independence as it is reasonable to expect. Encourage choices and teach decision-making. Offer options, and guide toward reasonable results, but remember that, to the extent that it is reasonable to assume that this young person can have some level of autonomy, it is your job to move him in that direction.

Finally, do not hold to the notion that eighteen is a magic age. You can work with your young person to develop a plan with a definite end in sight, but it can extend as far as you believe it will be necessary to work to achieve the goals you establish together. If social pressure to graduate at eighteen is a major factor in the decision, agree together to hold a ceremony, then continue working until goals are met for reaching the next level.

This has by no means been an exhaustive list. Our purpose is not to give you answers but rather to encourage you to think far enough down the road to know where your young person wants to go. You can then ask yourselves the right questions to find your own answer to that major question, “How do we know when we are finished?” You are finished when you have helped this young adult map a plan for the future and make the necessary preparations for reaching those goals.

The post Finishing the Challenged Race appeared first on Texas Home School Coalition.

“I’m having a baby, my Baby and me!”

Ricky sang this song to Lucy when he found out they were expecting their little bundle of joy. Dreams are born before the baby arrives. Dads buy footballs, baseballs, over-sized ball caps from their favorite teams and place these items in the crib. What a thrill it is to be on the receiving end of a new life being birthed into this world! Your dreams are now embodied in this fragile, little bundle of energy … your child. Whether this is your first child or your sixth, each child represents a new dream.

Go with me now into my feelings and thoughts the day my stereotypical dream bubble burst for my second son. A severe reaction to a vaccine booster caused a serious seizure disorder called Infantile Spasms. As I sat with my wife in the pedi-neurologist’s office, we heard the phrases, “won’t sit up,” “won’t feed himself,” “won’t be able to tie his own shoes,” and my head began to spin. How can a kid who cannot tie his shoes run a football for the winning score? How can a kid who cannot sit up sink the winning basket at the buzzer? … or hit the winning homerun? I felt as though the little boy of whom I had dreamed had “died” right there in that doctor’s office. I had to travel through the grief process – with my wife. The doctor looked at me and informed us that 90% of marriages with children diagnosed with severe challenges end in divorce—that the man runs away. I looked at my wife and informed her that divorce was not an option, and now eight years later, we will celebrate our 16th anniversary this spring. My wife and I pressed into the Lord in an all-new way. We saw the Lord heal our son of the seizure disorder (another, longer story all its own), but the seizures had done damage to the brain that led to a diagnosis of an autism spectrum disorder. I still did not have my typical, little boy back, but it is my charge as his father to raise him in the ways of the Lord. I found myself climbing four major stepping stones that I want to share with other dads whose children have special needs, whether autism or attention deficit, Down syndrome or dyslexia, or other issues.

The first stone was dealing with the grief process: anger, denial, blaming and questioning (God), bargaining, and finally acceptance. While I have come to a place of acceptance, I admit falling back into the questioning phase now and again. “Why my kid? What is the reason he has to suffer?” I have posed these questions to the Lord, who is big enough to handle the tough questions. It took almost seven years, but I believe I have an answer. The obstetrician who delivered our two younger children noted that she had seen a sharp increase in the number of children being born with Down syndrome over the last ten years. All of these children were born to Christian parents, parents who would not abandon these kids either before birth or after for the sake of convenience. My son was born with a purpose. God created him just as he is, and once I came to this realization, I saw him in a new light. Out of our trials and triumphs, life lessons, challenges, and successes has been born a ministry to other families traveling the same road. Texas’ Special Kids focuses on helping restore hope to families who want to educate their special needs kids at home. The Lord has taught us many things along the way, and we are not finished yet, but we felt a calling to share what we have learned with others, and we do that through this ministry.

The second stepping stone was making a connection with my special kid. In our work with other families, I have heard far too many moms say that their husbands and dads are stuck in the denial stage and refuse to “connect” with the special needs child. Dads, you must step up to the plate and get involved! You are the spiritual head of the entire household, and you must get past your own grief and the death of the dream and connect with your kid. Raising typical kids is tough enough, but if you add the extra needs of a disabled child, you raise the bar considerably. Learn what you can about the disability, for knowledge might dispel any fears you may have about your interactions.
As you connect with your special kid, you climb the third step that allows you to focus on the child’s strengths. Autism has not kept my son from loving life. He is very affectionate, caring, and sensitive. He is learning reading and math, and he loves to draw. Every child, no matter his “disability,” has a special gift from the Lord. Stop looking at what your child cannot do and focus on what he can do, and then build on that toward greater success. Find that special talent and look for ways you can foster and encourage the development of that gift.

The fourth, look for ways to stretch your child. Never let a label hold him back. If he can help with household chores, cook, take out the trash, wash his laundry—whatever the task—it will help include the special child in the regular life of the family and teach skills that are useful later in life. If the child shows an interest in sports, let him try. My son asked to play baseball like his brother one spring. We signed him up, but after the third practice he announced very clearly that he did not like baseball and did not wish to continue. Setting my pride aside, I granted his wish, and instead focused on the fact that he was willing to try something new.

Most importantly, pray for this child. Pray for his salvation, his challenges in life, his successes, and his healing. Lead your family with a model of Christlikeness, love your wife (I acknowledge that my wife works much harder than I do), and pay special attention to the unique needs of the siblings of the special needs child. The role to which you have been called is not always easy, and you must allow the Lord to be your strength and your wisdom. With that game plan, you and your family will be healthy and strong.

Read more about Doug Arnold…

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In light of that concern, this article is the first in a series designed to help parents identify a suspected learning difference or other challenge.  Our intention is not to enable children to behave inappropriately.  Rather, we hope to teach parents how to become detectives and determine if a learning difference is at the heart of the matter, instead of the behavior being a matter of the heart.   We want to give parents tools to help them step back, look differently at this child whose problems may be overwhelming the family (or at least making school time difficult) and help parents focus on the underlying issues.  Nobody knows a child better than his parents.  Still, being steeped in the routine nature of the problem can temporarily inhibit the parents’ ability to root out its cause and begin to change the way it affects the life of the family.

We begin our journey with a relatively new diagnosis, one that absolutely must be identified correctly by a registered occupational therapist.  The signals listed here are simply clues to parents that this issue may be the root of a problem.

Dysfunction of Sensory Integration

We have all been taught that the nervous system is comprised of five basic senses: hearing, sight, feeling, taste, and smell.   In fact, it is also made up of three other systems: vestibular, proprioceptive, and tactile.

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The Three Other Senses

1) Vestibular – Information from the inner ear that relates to body position, movement, gravity, and equilibrium.  Dysfunction in this area affects a child’s sense of his own position in space.

2) Proprioceptive – Information from the muscles and joints that allows for correct motor skills.  Dysfunction in this area can cause clumsiness or awkwardness in movement.

3)  Tactile – Information from the sense of touch not only in the hands but also throughout the body.  Dysfunction in this system may cause a child to sense constantly that something is wrong, without being able to identify the problem.

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Dysfunction of Sensory Integration (DSI) is an inability of the sensory nervous system to process signals properly and convert them to meaningful information; or the information may be processed properly, but the response sent back from the brain may not be correct.  In the five basic senses, the indications are fairly obvious—inability to hear or see being the most common.  Parents whose children have these problems are quick to correct them with glasses or hearing aids.  Finding problems in the other systems and working to correct them is just as compassionate to the child—helping him to adjust to variations in his nervous system.

The signs of DSI are as varied as the children with the disorder, but they fall into a few principle categories:

Vestibular—underactive: Child seeks thrills; climbs; spins himself or objects; loves slides; hangs upside down; does not perceive danger.

Vestibular—overactive: Child is afraid of swings, slides, teeter-totters, or anything else that moves him; may hate to roughhouse or ride in the car.

Proprioceptive—Child is a “crasher”; seeks impact; jumps on the furniture excessively; attacks pillows or cushions; runs into walls without typical pain response; possibly bangs head.

Tactile—Child is overly sensitive to touch or touches everything; rubs against different textures; plays with long hair obsessively; hates socks, clothing tags, and many foods; has difficulty sitting still.

General behavioral clues to DSI

1) Misbehaves in stimulating environments like birthday parties, church socials, grocery stores, or restaurants

2) Refuses to eat many foods, especially those with certain textures

3) Prefers postures other than sitting, especially when concentrating

Any set of new circumstances can overload his sensory circuits the way running all the major appliances in the house on one circuit can do.  He will, inevitably, blow a fuse!

Truth be known, many adults have DSI. Adults can control their own environments.  They can choose the clothing they wear and the activities in which they participate.  Children, however, do not have total control over their environments, and if the adults around them do not know to look for these signs, children are at a loss to explain themselves.

What to do

If you suspect that your child has a sensory processing problem, seek professional evaluation.  Check with your medical insurance, CHIP (Children’s Health Insurance Program), or Medicaid about coverage for treatment.  The Easter Seals organization has good therapists in many of their offices who can evaluate and make a determination.  Federal Child Find laws protect your child’s right to be evaluated by the public school system, if you so choose.  You have the right to free testing and a meeting for explanation of test results.  You can listen to the recommendations of the school personnel and reject all of their suggestions, choosing instead to keep your child at home.  Federal law also requires districts to spend a percentage of their federal funds on children who do not attend the public schools.  Each district has the right to decide how those funds will be spent.  (See p. A12-A13 in Handbook for Texas Home Schoolers.)  There is always a possibility that your child could be offered services as a dual-enrolled student, doing all of his academics at home but receiving therapy services from the school district.  Regardless, this is a way to get the testing free and find out what you can do at home to help your child.  We, ourselves, did this in one of the most restrictive districts in the state.  While we had to fight administrative red tape to get the services, we found the therapists to be warm, caring, receptive, and eager to work with us.

DSI can only be officially determined by a registered occupational therapist.  Please do not attempt to make a definitive assessment without a professional opinion.

Should your child be assessed as having DSI, two very good books to read are The Out of Sync Child and The Out of Sync Child Has Fun, both by Carol Stock Kranowitz.  Gentle reader, be aware that these books are written from a secular perspective and may contain evolutionary theories.  Nonetheless, Kranowitz does an excellent job of presenting information about DSI and offering ideas for ways to help DSI children cope with their nervous system differences.

If you have a child who is struggling, put on your Sherlock Holmes thinking cap and become a detective in your child’s life.  If you rule out DSI, look at other possibilities to narrow your search.  Read, ask questions, and search the Internet.  Becoming a detective may just put your home school back on the road you hoped to travel … or on a new, interesting journey!

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