Why do we wear shoes?

How would you answer?

Kaia had a speech evaluation last Thursday at the recommendation of our developmental pediatrician. Having failed to even speak to a breathing human at Children's Hospital, (not a knock on them, I know they are busy), I got an appt. with a local speech pathologist.

When we got in there, the Dr. explained what tests he'd be giving Kaia then directed me to a room with a two-way mirror so I could watch the tests as he administered them. Usually, people want videos of their children's birthdays or Christmas. I would have killed to have video taped her evaluation, it was quite entertaining.

At first, he opened up a flip book and asked her to identify shapes and colors and other stuff. She breezed through that, so he stopped and asked her some questions.

My favorite was this:

"Kaia, why do we wear shoes?"

She put her index finger to her lips and looked upward. "I know! So earwigs won't bite our feet!"

The doctor, who I'm sure has been doing this a while, has probably NEVER heard that response and it was all I could do to keep from falling on the floor and cracking up. "Um, ok, Kaia, I'll ask again. Why do we wear shoes?"

Again, finger goes to lips, a thoughtful "hmm" comes out of her and then, "Oh, I know. So centipedes won't bite our feet. And even scorpions."

So now you know why we wear shoes.

She's just quirky...

Quirky–adjective, quirk·i·er, quirk·i·est.

1. Having or full of quirks, idiosyncrasies, peculiar behavior.
2. The word Child Find would rather use to describe my daughter as opposed to 'Autistic' or 'having Autistic Tendencies.'

Quirky is one of those words that seems 'good' as in, "That romantic comedy movie was quirky and light-hearted." However, when the people at Child Find decided to describe my daughter this way instead of addressing any real issues, it's not such a 'good' word. Mostly because you can't get services for being 'quirky.'

They tested Kaia and when the results came back, I didn't understand the results. They tested her for academic readiness; shapes, colors, comprehension, that kind of thing. She scored twice as high as the average.

Never in my life would I have thought I'd be upset that my daughter had scored high on any kind of test, let alone twice as high as the average. But there I was, confused and feeling that cold reality that we would not get services settle in like a February snow.

"You're daughter is very bright, Mrs. Leavitt, you should be happy," quipped the too-perky administrator.

"I KNOW she's bright, I never said she wasn't. I'm not here because I think she has mental retardation."

A nano-second later her disposition did a 180 and she said. "Well, if you still think she has a 'problem' we can send somebody to observe her. You know, Mrs. Leavitt, we didn't see any kind of autistic behaviors, she's just quirky. Bright kids usually are."

"Are you a developmental pediatrician?" I asked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Can you say that you've observed a good cross-section of autistic children? It's a 'spectrum' disorder you know, they're not all the same."

"Mrs. Leavitt, I'm well aware of that."

"Good. But the fact is that you are a school administrator, not a doctor and not really anybody who works directly with kids, so I find it odd that you feel as though you can diagnose my child." I tried to say this last part as gently as possible, but I failed.

"Good day, Mrs. Leavitt, we'll send somebody out to observe your daughter. You'll hear from us soon."

Services

When your child is diagnosed with a developmental disorder such as autism, in my county, you have the option to take them to an early intervention program, where they will decide whether or not you can get free services such as speech therapy or occupational therapy. When you're first told this, as a parent you think, "Finally!! All those taxes are going to pay off."

You could be right, or you could be wrong. The Child Find office at Independent Hill is in one of the many trailers that house the school board offices for Prince William County. I passed the place probably hundreds of times growing up and thought it was everything from an abandoned World War 2 bomb shelter to some kind of cult compound. If this grouping of dilapidated trailers *was* either of those two things, it'd be fine. But when you drive up and realize that this is the home of county services and the birthplace of public school decisions, it makes you nervous.

Yes, I'm judging a book by it's cover, but you have to realize that in my daydreams of the people who were going to help me and my daughter, it didn't look like this. I pictured more of a ivory tower/academia setting where they would smile and commit themselves to my daughter's cause, reassuring me that, "Yes, Mrs. Leavitt, everything will be fine! We are here for you, 100% satisfaction guaranteed or your money back." (And yes, I have a wildly overactive imagination.)

When my husband and I got seated in the waiting room, I quickly realized that we were in trouble. My daughter busied herself with some toys, my husband picked up a magazine and I observed. The mustard walls reflected the time when these trailers were put in place. The other parents in the waiting room looked like I felt inside. Nervous, scared. The kids were another story. One girl was in a wheelchair, staring at the ceiling, unmoving except for the slight rise and fall of her chest beneath her pink Dora the Explorer shirt. One boy was playing with a train smiling and content, but his almond shaped eyes and round face told the world that he had Down Syndrome. And there sat my daughter. Nothing visibly wrong with her, smiling, playing with some blocks, then flipping through the pages of a book. Relief and defeat collided in my chest. We were so lucky our daughter didn't have such severe issues, these kids needed services much more than we did and they would probably get them.

These old, water stained, rusting trailers whispered to me that there were only so many funds to go around.

5 Things About Me...

OK, so I was under the mistaken impression that nobody has ever read my blog. Now I know that at least one person has. Luckily, it's my good friend Nancy, and she already knows I'm a nut, so that's ok. :-)

However, now she is holding me accountable and has tagged me to write five things about myself. Hmmm...I'm happy to say that I knew most of the things Nancy posted in her blog, even though they were not things everybody would know. Nancy knows everything about me, so I'm not going to even attempt to come up with rare facts.

1. I used to own my own candle business. I still have all the equipment, so once I buy a house, Blue Turtle Botanicals *may* be up and running again one day.

2. I was a bathing suit model for one day for the swim shop I worked for when I was in college. Luckily, I believe all photo evidence was destroyed.

3. I have no sense of smell. (No jokes about how I have no taste.)

4. I have started a new hobby called "Geocaching." Found my first cache yesterday!! Now I'm hooked.

5. I used to be a wedding and private event DJ.

Now I have to tag 5 other bloggers...except I don't really know any. LOL I'll find some other ones and report back, pronto!

In the meantime, here's a picture of my girl atop one of the beautiful horses, Boo, that until recently lived at Nancy's farm: