With the first three days of school behind us, and the first full week ahead, I’m looking into the near future once again with hope. Real life is about to take hold. Homework will be assigned. The novelty of a new school will wear off. Fatigue will likely set in quickly. Life will be a grind for all of us.
And so we return to probably my biggest conundrum in raising Maddie: Where to draw the line between expecting too little and expecting too much. That’s a question for all parents to ask about each of their kids, but the answer is more elusive with an Asperger’s kid because that line is a moving target. One day she’s full of energy, focused, excited. The next she is lethargic, unable to focus, uninterested. There’s not necessarily any rhyme or reason to it, except that the latter type of day is to be expected if Maddie’s tired from a poor night’s sleep or a big day before. Still, you just never know.
It’s Sunday night. I need to get her in the shower and make sure she shampoos adequately. I recently discovered that her technique is lacking, which explains why her gorgeous mane doesn’t usually live up to its potential. I’m putting it off because it’s usually a battle and she hasn’t brushed her hair in a few days. It’s almost down to her waist, so the massive-tangle potential is high. I will have to attack the mess myself.
There’s a young lady I know who graduated from high school in June. I met her three years ago when she was a sophomore at Maddie’s old school. I cannot believe how much she has matured. She has moved into an apartment for a college/living skills program. I am so proud of her. She gives me hope for Maddie because I have witnessed such remarkable growth.
However, I recognize she is different from Maddie. Maddie isn’t especially interested in growing up. She has a good life here. It’s probably because I do too much for her. Like brushing her hair even though she’s 15. I don’t do it every day, but really I ought to let her fight it out with the tangles because it’s her fault she has them. I’m pretty certain I’m falling on the wrong side of the expectation line here.
But it’s the expectations about her school performance that have weighed on me the most. She’s very bright, typically scoring in the 98% percentile on standardized tests. But she is slow (or as the neuropsychologist who recently evaluated her said, “So goddamned slow.”). Not slow to learn, just slow to produce (her processing speed is in the 2nd percentile, for anybody who knows what that means). It’s weird. You can explain something to her once and she will get it and know it. But having her, say, write it down, is another level of expectation, and she isn’t necessarily able to do that in any kind of timely manner. Fortunately she can have extra time on tests. But there is work to do at home. What about that? She’s tired, I’m tired, maybe she can do it that day, maybe she can’t.
When you have a bright, talented kid, what should you expect in terms of academic performance? What about when she has attention issues, fatigue problems, and a general lack of motivation? This isn’t one of those times where I ask a question and answer it, because I don’t know. Still.
What I have learned to do, though, is let a lot of that go. I used to freak out over her homework. I still care very much and try to make sure I at least know what she’s supposed to be doing. But I don’t have the same personal stake in it that I once did. I credit her fourth grade teacher for that. Mrs. Padilla is one of those once-in-a-lifetime teachers. One day some Oscar winner or Poet Laureate will thank her for being so inspiring and encouraging. She’s magical. One day I was chatting with her after school and mentioned that I was so stressed out about Maddie’s impending book report. It just wasn’t happening like I thought it should. The most wonderful words came out of her mouth. She said, “Don’t worry about it. Let that be between her and me.” REALLY? I could do that? The teacher will deal with it? Those two sentences were such a gift to me. I can still feel that giant exhale. I think I’m still exhaling.
My new belief is that if Maddie is doing what she can, on the days that she can, being a good advocate for herself (working on that!), and actually going to school, her grades aren’t the true measure of her success. I was a grade-obsessed student myself, so this is a HUGE mindset change for me. I’m trying to apply the same ideology to my son, but that’s more of a challenge because he doesn’t have the same roadblocks as his sister. But I’m trying. It’s a struggle, but a struggle in the right direction.
Still, the question remains: When do I push harder, and when do I pull back? I don’t know. I’ll take it day by day. I’ll probably think one thing, and then think “Oh, that wasn’t right.” And then the next day I’ll do it wrong again. To be honest, I probably mostly err on the side of expecting too little. I wish I didn’t. I guess we’re both a work in progress. But I’m hoping, at the very least, that I get it right more often than not.
The Year of Living Hopefully 