When I sat down with Dr. Thompson, I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me. “He’s reading at a first-grade level,” I managed to say, trying to steady my breath.
“What?” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief. “He’s ten!”
I hesitated, swallowing the urge to remind her of his age. Instead, I shared, “Two years ago, he was at a preschool level, so he’s made significant advancements.” I thought she would acknowledge our progress, but she didn’t.
Our conversation quickly shifted to potential dyslexia interventions and the daunting task of getting him to “grade level.” By the time I left, a heavy sadness rested on my heart for my youngest son, who exerts tremendous effort but often feels it’s insufficient. I completely understand why he feels this way. Learning disabilities can be quite deceptive.
Dr. Thompson is knowledgeable about dyslexia and learning differences, and she understands the complexities of his IQ testing and learning profile. She recognizes the disparity between his remarkable talents in some areas and his struggles in others. Yet, after two years of educational therapy and daily instruction, she still couldn’t believe he was only capable of reading “Hop on Pop” on his best day.
Her next words stunned me: “Given his needs, the school system won’t be able to provide adequate support. You may eventually persuade the district to cover a special private school, but that could take years, and I’m not sure it would be the right fit for him.”
I silently acknowledged my dilemma but didn’t voice it. Learning disabilities are indeed tricky.
Returning home, I felt drained and burdened. I was grateful for the advice I received but tired of the uphill battle. It often feels like we’re in a race with “grade level” as the finish line. However, that benchmark doesn’t truly reflect my children’s capabilities.
My eldest reads at a college level but struggles with basic executive functioning tasks. Meanwhile, my youngest excels in history and science but couldn’t read the word “said” yesterday. I know I shouldn’t use grade level as my standard, yet I still yearn for it. I wish for quicker, more straightforward progress. I long to tell anyone who asks, “Yes, they’re at grade level,” and never again have to discuss how to accelerate their advancement.
The anxiety can be overwhelming, especially as I wonder if I’m doing everything right or if I’m failing them. But my children are not equations to solve or projects with deadlines. As convenient as it would be for them to meet grade-level expectations, sometimes it simply isn’t feasible. More importantly, when I reflect on who they are becoming and what will lead to their success as adults, the specific reading and math levels fade in significance.
So today, instead of fixating on the progress we have yet to achieve, I choose to celebrate what my sons have accomplished. I’ll focus on the computer my son assembled in under two hours, entirely on his own. I’ll appreciate the joy my youngest felt while reading a book he picked up, rather than fixating on the words on the cover — Step 1: Ready to Read. Today, I commit to doing my best for my children, and I will step off the treadmill of an imaginary grade-level finish line.
For more insights into family journeys, consider exploring our other posts, such as this one on home insemination, or check out this excellent resource for family building options.
In summary, parenting children with learning differences can be challenging, but it’s crucial to focus on their unique strengths and progress rather than strictly adhering to grade-level benchmarks.