Ellie's Kindergarten IEP

On Thursday we had Ellie's transition-to-Kindergarten Individualized Education Plan meeting. I was up until 3:00 the night before, but I was ready. I'd talked to my mom, a school psychologist (and former diagnostician and learning disabilities resource room teacher) who attends IEPs regularly. I'd talked to Ellie. I'd met recently with her whole team to discuss Ellie's progress and Present Level.

I reviewed my notes from the how-to meeting on IEPs I attended last year. I went over Ellie's previous IEPs. I updated the sheets Paul and I put together describing our Family Concerns. And I created a sheet listing some fun facts about Ellie (she loves playing with beads!) and lots of cute pictures, so that she'd be a real person to the people in the meeting, the people deciding her kindergarten placement and services, not just a diagnosis and score.

Speaking of scores, I also refused IQ testing for Ellie this year after our LAST horrible experience. When this came up in our meeting, one particular team member - who shall remain anonymous as we have to work with ... her - got this really pinched look about her mouth, but they all accepted our decision. So at least Ellie was more than just a "score" to them. Especially because she was present.

And she did great, for an hour an a half of really boring meeting talk. She sat with us for a while, played with her beads on the floor for a bit, came back to the table for a snack, read some books quietly in the corner, went to the potty with me, then was ready to go. Fortunately, it was time to pick up Ada from school by this time so Paul and Ellie left while I stayed to finish up with the team.

Overall, the meeting went very well (though there were a couple of tense moments with the pinch-faced ... administrator, who seemed kind of mean but was very helpful and knew what she was doing). Present were Ellie's current teacher, speech therapist, and physical therapist. Her OT couldn't make it but sent detailed notes and talked both to me and to the Elementary School OT in advance. Paul, Ellie, and I were there. And, from the Elementary School/school district, two service coordinators (one for early childhood, one for elementary), the principal, the OT, PT, and speech therapists, the resource room teacher, and the classroom teacher attended. It was a packed room!

The verdict: Ellie will be fully included in full-day Kindergarten this fall. She will progress throughout the day with her class, with occasional push-in and pull-out therapies. She will spend at least 80% of her day fully included in the classroom. (During math time she'll be pulled out for help, and during "play centers" time she'll also have a pull-out session. She'll be receiving PT, OT, Speech Therapy, and Special Education.)

She will not have a paraprofessional assigned to her, with two exceptions. There will be someone to assist Ellie at potty time, until she's shown that she can handle the whole process completely independently. And there will be an extra set of eyes on her on the playground, since it's bordered by lovely woodland areas but not fenced. She'll ride the special needs bus, because I still want her in the safety harness. (I love the short bus.)

I'm a little giddy, from happiness, excitement, and worry. I loved school so much, and I want Ellie to love it, too. I want her to have enough support to allow her to learn all she can without getting overly frustrated and giving up, but I don't want her to become too dependent on a paraprofessional or allow a full-time hands-on aide to add to a sense of distance and isolation between Ellie and her peers.

Curbside drop-off. Independent transitions between activities. True academics. PE, art, music (two of these per day). Lunch in the cafeteria. Recess. School!