A Tale of Two Brothers

Mick is taking dance classes once a week. I spent almost 30 minutes in the aisle of the local grocery store last Thursday night, listening to his dance teacher sing his praises. Sunday afternoon, as I was getting my hair cut, his school speech therapist
approached me, and told me about the most recent lesson they had, and about how much he is learning, and how well he is doing. We saw this same teacher one summer Sunday at mass, and she picked him up and gushed over him with tears in her eyes. She later confided to me that at that time, she wasn’t sure if she was going to be reassigned to a different school this year, and that she missed him already! It amazes me to see him at school. He walks down the hallways like he’s the mayor, waving to everyone, and EVERYONE knows who he is! In fact, he gets off the bus from school most days, completely full of himself. I admire his confidence, and he is so darn cute. I will say that the bus monitor was not so charmed this afternoon when he grinned, rubbed his hands together, and then smacked her on the butt. I am hoping that will be an isolated incident.

I just finished dropping Timmy off at school after a second visit to a neuro-psychologist in Springfield, who Timmy's psychiatrist recommended evaluate Timmy. This Dr has concluded that Timmy definitely meets the criteria for development and supplementation of an Individualized Education Plan. He said that not receiving accommodations could be the difference in 300 points when he takes his SATs in HS, and that he clearly is struggling, especially in math and written expression. After multitudes and years’ worth of testing by his schools and various professionals, I am hopeful that he will FINALLY get the help he needs. It just frustrates the heck out of me that it has taken this long for someone to realize that he needs help. He truly does not like school, and while his attitude is better this year than it was last year (before the Zoloft), school is still a huge struggle for him. If I don’t look up his homework and practically stand over him as he does it, it just does not get done. Or it gets lost. Or he forgets the assignment. When he has a project to do, I have to set aside a big chunk of time to help him with it. He’s content doing the very bare minimum to get by. And less. I worry that I am enabling him with all this oversight, but I also know that failing his classes will only make him hate school all the more. And the truth is, I still don't know what his "best" is.


So here I have a child with a visible disability – Down Syndrome. He is loved by all and given the help he needs at school without question. He is accepted exactly the way he is – and guided with love and patience. He is constantly being encouraged to fulfill his potential, and he is HAPPY! Then I have a son who looks like most other 13 year old boys. He has no visible disabilities, and very little self-confidence. School is not a happy place for him – he has trouble making friends, and his teachers have historically been unable to understand “what’s wrong” with him, attributing his poor work to laziness, disinterest, or lack of self discipline. He’s been tested for learning disabilities since he was 8. The results have been consistent, but nothing until now that could be labeled as severe or enough to qualify him for special ed. And so, he has spent so much time worrying about school, and trying to keep up, and wondering why he isn’t “as smart as everyone else”. So much time wasted. Tomorrow, I have an appt with the neuro-psych doc to discuss his findings.

Sometimes I think it’s easier if your disability shows on the outside. Maybe it has to do with expectations, or perceived aptitude. I don’t know. But I have often thought if I could give Timmy ½ of Mick’s extra 21st chromosome, things might be better for him.