After Alex's diagnosis, his therapist and I decided that Early Intervention Preschool would be best for Alex. At the very least, we hoped it would help with his social skills. In theory, preschool seemed like a great plan. He would go to the early class ( 8am), I was hopeful that would help with his disturbed sleeping patterns. He would eat breakfast there, play with his friends, receive therapy, have a snack, and come home. It would be easy, right?!....
Alex and I both cried everyday for the first week. I worried about everything. I hated leaving him because Alex didn't use any words to communicate his needs. What if he needed something? I worried about his eating... What if he didn't like the breakfast the school was serving? Would he be hungry? Alex was three and he still wore diapers.... All the kids at this preschool were delayed, but none of them seemed as delayed as Alex. What if they noticed and made fun of him? I could write a book on the things I worried about. I constantly told myself if we made it threw the first week, it would be easier.
After Alex became familiar with his routine, he seemed to settle in. The teacher seemed accomidating to him. She would let him sit on an excercize ball during story time, because Alex needed to be moving ALL the time. On days when he was extra tired, she would let him take a nap. Even though it was against the rules, she would let me bring his favorite snacks as long as I brought enough for everyone. I can remember thinking that everything was going to be ok. We were going to servive.
After Alex was settled into the routine of school we set goals for him. Alex like most autistic kids would talk, but he never said anything meaningful. He would jabber about his favorite tv showers or quote his favorite books. He would never ask for something to drink or even for his favorite toys. When he wanted something, he would cry and I would have to figure out what it was. So our first goal was to find a way for Alex to communicate his needs/wants. We started using PECS. It is a form of non verbal communication that uses pictures and items. If Alex wanted crackers, he would bring me a picture of crackers and I would immediately give him crackers. Since Alex could read, he carried a laminated strip around with him that said, "I want ______ please". Hypothetically he would meet the goal by placing the picture (of crackers or whatever he wanted) the blank. Eventually, the pictures would be replaced with words.... And finally he would just say what he wanted without the prompt at all. It seemed like a good idea to me. It would be tiresome carting around a huge book of pictures, but I was sure the end result was worth it. After two weeks of starting on the goal, Alex could careless. He showed no interest in the pictures. He wouldn't even look at the pictures much less hand them to me. I was so frustrated, and I felt defeated. One day after school, a parent stopped me. She told me that Alex's teacher had refused to give Alex snack because he wouldn't use the picture strip. I was so MAD! How dare her deny him food. He was already a picky eater, and he was probably starving by snack time. I went straight home and scheduled a meeting for the next morning. I didnt sleep at all that night and by the time I got to meet with her the next morning I was 50 different kinds of pissed off. Needless to say our meeting did not go well. She told me she had not given him snack and she would not give him a snack unless he worked for it. She also told me that she wouldn't let him go to the reading center (his favorite) unless he used his picture stip to ask, and she refused to let him paint unless he wore the smock. Alex hated the smock, so he wasn't getting to paint. I let her have it.... Looking back I must have seemed like a preschooler myself, standing there telling her how unfair she was being to my sweet boy. He couldn't help it, and she was being mean to him. When I stopped fussing at her to take a breath, she politely told me that I was the one with an autistic, unpotty trained, nonverbal, three year old.... She wanted to help Alex but I was getting in the way of his progress. I was babying him to much and he had far to much potential to be coddled to death. I stood up, picked Alex up, and walked out. I cried all the way home. When I got home I called and complained to everyone that would listen including the preschool director. I was so mad, and astounded that she would have the nerve to say that to me.... I called my mom, and after I told her the whole story and how I planned to never take him back she said, "Jodi, you don't want to look back on this and wish you would have done things differently. What if she can help him?". Her words haunted me all night, but I had no intentions of taking him to school. Then next morning, when I woke up Alex was standing there with his backpack on. He ate breakfast with his backpack on. He watched cartoons with his backpack on. He stood by the door and screamed at me with his backpack on....... Maybe he did like school. It was only three hours, so he probably wouldn't starve to death. Being around other kids was good for him, and I didn't want anyone to say that I wasn't doing all I could to help him.... There was only a month left of school anyway, how bad could it be? So Alex won, and we went to school.
The next few weeks went by... His teacher would put information about potty training or new pictures they were using in his back pack, but we weren't really talking. I would half heartedly use the PECS system at home, but Alex didn't seem interested. He had been in school two months and he still refused to use the pictures. I felt like school had helped him become more social but that was about it. He would greet his friends with an "hi", but that was the only meaningful word he used. The day before school got out for the summer, I went to pick Alex up and he ran to me with his arms wide open and he said, "hi mom". He had never said "mom" before. I sat on the ground and cried. From that second on... I believed in preschool. Even though school was out, I started using the picture strip at home, and he started using it. I dug out all that paperwork on ABA potty training, and he did it. By the time school started back in August, Alex was potty trained, and would ask for his needs without using the picture stip. He even used a handful of other words appropriately. He was still reading like a mad man, knew all his numbers, letters, and he could count to 10 in Spanish.
Early intervention was hard or both me and Alex, but it gave him the foundation he needed to learn. It didn't just make Alex smarter, it changed our home life too. Since Alex could communicate his needs, he no longer cried ALL the time. I felt like a better mom because I knew what he wanted. Alex is in the fifth grade now, and I could never imagine going back to the way things were.... Early intervention preschool was such a blessing to us. I urge everyone with a special needs child to get involved early, listen, and work hard. It truly makes all the difference.
..... In case you are wondering about the teacher I disliked so much.... When school started again in August, she wasn't there. Her family had moved over the summer. She missed all the great changes Alex had made. I have searched for her on all the social media sites I am on, but I can't find her. If I could find her, I would tell her how sorry I was for being so ugly, and most importantly I would say thank you for kicking me in my tail and helping me change Alex's life :)
This is Alex 's preschool picture :)
I loved reading this! I never got to work with or meet Alex, but he seems wonderful! Ari sure loves him!
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