The Middle Years....part 2

By this time I am pregnant with baby number 4. We make the 150 mile round trip 3 times a week for her "tutoring" sessions. I pack snacks, good books, we listen to music, play car games, I pull over to throw up occasionally.

As we continue making this trek, I realize that they are doing silly things like having her balance on a balance beam or a balance ball. Its all about getting her to cross the mid-line in her brain. Mesh both sides so they work together evenly. Not one side being more dominant than the other. She shows many signs of this brain confusion. If you give her a peg board and pegs, it is most people's natural inclination to begin in the upper left corner and work their way across row by row. Just like when we read a page. Molly begins anywhere and works randomly with no pattern.

For some kids these tasks would be beneficial, but Molly is an athlete. She had no motor issues at all. She could do a back handspring on a balance beam 4 feet in the air at 6 years old. When I mentioned this to the "teacher" she was of the mindset that this is what they do to remedy issues like Molly's. "The book says....." I pointed out that each human being is different though. Don't her natural strengths account for anything? Can't we tailor her program to what her actual needs are? I mean for crying out loud...lets cut to the chase here. At 75.00 an hour three times a week, lets get this party started. That was when this very sweet young woman told me that Molly would need to come to see them through out high school to be able to make it through school.

I knew then that something would have to change. We couldn't afford to do this forever, we hated the drive and I couldn't imagine that being a part of our lives for the next 11 years! It was a ridiculous idea. First, she was a child...not a project to be worked on and fixed. She had to have time to play, to just be.

At that point Molly was being homeschooled. It gave us the opportunity to work at her pace, to not have to be subjected to peer pressure for not being where everyone else was, and most of all it gave us the opportunity to focus on what she was good at. She worked with a local potter for more than 3 years learning her craft. She was able to take various art classes from local artists, and she could play lots and lots of sports. In addition we could focus on her need to learn to read. We found a Linda Mood Bell tutor who took Molly into her heart and saw her 3X a week just 8 miles from us. This woman had been the director of the LMB clinic and had come home to have a baby. She spent 2 years studying with Molly. We used our tax refunds, asked grand parents to help and when we couldn't afford it anymore, this woman said to keep coming and pay what we can when we can. She didn't want to give up.

Despite all of our best efforts, nothing seemed to be clicking for Molly. She was 10 and still couldn't read. Still had trouble remembering things in order. I remember sending her up to the counter of a fast food restraunt to order some food to bring home for her brother and watching her lips move as she repeated the order over and over again so she wouldn't forget it by the time she got to the counter.

Over the years there were lots more tests, lots of specialists with various opinions....she would never go to college, "just isn't college material," there are only 10% of dyslexics who fall into the severity level that she does, she will probably never learn to read. I refused to let her hear any of this or to believe it. She was so smart, quick witted, had above average intelligence....their own tests said so!

I decided that if this was going to be her life then she needed to learn how to manage herself in a very literate society. I taught her to be proactive. Be honest about your stuff, ask for help, don't try to hide or bluff your way through something. Being forthcoming keeps you in charge, being found out leaves you feeling caught off guard and ashamed. **And most of all this is nothing to be ashamed of.** She got very good at explaining her situation when the need arose. In classes, at the library, in stores, to other kids. She was so relieved when she realized that what made her different had a name.

I told her about all of the famous dyslexic people in the world and all that they had accomplished. Being dyslexic gives you some little brain tweak that makes you a great thinker, an out of the box thinker. It is a gift in many ways. One that is hard to bear as a child when being like everyone else is so important. But she was proud of "her" people...Einstein, Edison, Tom Cruise, Henry Winkler, Churchill...

During these years she had a core group of friends who had all been babies together. They were all boys and they all played baseball and soccer together until Molly was too old to continue to play on the boys teams. Her last year playing baseball with the boys she made the All Star team and had an article written about her in the local newspaper for being the first girl to ever be an All Star in our area.

I credit these kids with helping Molly know that she was just fine as she was. They loved her and accepted her and paved the way for her to feel safe to lay it all out there. If we got Chinese food, they naturally just reached over and took her fortune from her cookie and read it to her. If they were all reading the Harry Potter books and discussing them, they would include her by talking about the part in the movie that correlated to the part in the book. I watched these relationships and was continually blessed beyond words at the natural kindness and acceptance they showed her, their buddy, their pal.

Finally, after years of tutors, extra help, IEP meetings to have everything documented in case she ever decided to head off to school, accommodations, and modifications... Molly said she was done. "This is just how I am, how I operate." We hadn't been able to find what would be the key for her, and she wanted to stop all efforts to *fix* it and get on with her life...

Stay tuned for the final installment, part 3.