As the school year nears the finish line, I hate to announce that I am completely disenchanted. Jonas, according to his teacher, is educationally average compared with his peers in what he is learning, possibly on the lower end of average. On the behavior end of the scale, he remains a challenge, although he has calmed considerably since his rocky beginning. The teacher has also calmed considerably. I think both attitudes have a lot to do with each other. Some days he does great, and he has the occasional bad day, or short run of bad days. On a whole he has made progress, and I am pleased that he is moving forward.

I am frustrated that the verbal reports of what he is learning do not match the written reports or what I am seeing at home. In fact, none of them match. I got a report card that said he was not good at art or music. This is the child who sings “Cecilia” and draws amazing space creatures and super heros. This is the five year old who can draw a very good likeness of Larry Boy, Rescue Pack and just about anything else he sets his mind to. This is my child, a boy who grew up surrounded with so much art and music he should be pooping Picassos and channeling Pete Seeger. I am not a blind mother. I know that my child is imperfect. I know that he will lag in some areas and thrive in others. I know he has bad days and good days. He is human; he is Jonas. I love him for that, not in spite of it.

So how am I supposed to trust these tests that contradict what I know about my child? It isn’t just the subjective art and music that worries me. It is the fact that the teacher’s report says he doesn’t have a certain skill and yet he demonstrates that skill for me at home. It makes me wonder if she really knows where my kid is, or if he is being lumped in with someone else. I can understand how it could happen. It is a big class, and he isn’t complacent to sit and be tested. He jokes and giggles during testing, or, trying to be silly (or get out of the boring tests) he gives the wrong answer. It isn’t all her fault. I know that. Jonas complies when he decides to comply, a trait that will serve him well as an adult, but makes most of the adults in his life crazy while he is a child.

I have spent a few months deeply contemplating what Jonas needs. Not what he needs to succeed, but what he needs to be happy and progress in his learning. I do not need my boy measured by the world’s cookie cutter standard of good and bad, I need him measuring against his standard, and by God’s standard.

A friend of mine who is the mother of sons with autism said something to me last week that makes so much sense. In speaking of her child she said, “We asked ourselves what we really wanted for Jonathan, and we decided that we wanted him to be happy. We know he will never live on is own. He will never reach “normalcy” - but he can be happy. And if my son is happy running around naked in the backyard that is ok even if no one else understands.”

Now, my friend is an excellent mother. Her boys are taught respect. Her boys are taught kindness. They have as much responsibility put on them as is fair for their sweet spirits’s and abilities to handle in the developmental stage they are in. They are expected to be all that they can be, but she sees them for who they are, and understands that ultimately she chooses happiness for them. If a therapy is making them miserable, she stops. She finds something positive to replace it with. These boys know love. I do not think they feel the boundaries of their limitations as acutely as so many of us feel them because they have her standing watch, loving them and guiding them and accepting them. All children should be so blessed.

Jonas no longer qualifies as developmentally delayed, and certainly, our situation is not as dramatic as my friend’s is, but there is truth in her approach that can be applied to every child. My son needs to be happy, and there are things that go a long way toward achieving that for him.

Jonas needs positivity. If I have learned anything being his mother it is that negativity and contention does not work. Another friend of mine who was over the Primary children at church for quite some time made an interesting observation. She said that Jonas seems to do just fine as long as he knows that you like him. It is very true. When he is treated with affection, respect and patience, he is very eager to please. When he is yelled at or talked down to, he becomes cold and locks into a power struggle. My son needs to be accepted.

Jonas needs attention. He needs people around him who he can bounce his energy off of, with whom he can discuss his ideas and practice interacting positively. He needs someone to listen to him, someone to read him stories, someone to let him help her cook in the kitchen and someone to praise and guide him as he learns and discovers. And he needs these things a lot, not just for five minutes when he can be fit in, or during his thirty second moment with his teacher. Jonas needs to be heard.

Jonas needs to move. Just as you or I may have the urge to scratch a mosquito bite, Jonas has the urge to wiggle. It is just as unfocusing for him, as that nagging bug bite is for us. He needs opportunities to get these wiggles out, and he needs them more than many children his age. Our trampoline is the best thing that ever happened to him. He can bounce for five minutes and then focus for fifteen. If you don’t give him opportunities to move constructively, he will move in ways that will irritate you. He will poke and pinch. He will make messes. He will swing from curtains and climb fences. You can tell him no, but that urge is very powerful, and it is better channeled into a positive energy release than stifled until he pops. A trip to the water fountain or a journey to sharpen the teacher’s pencil will do more good than a hundred threats, angry glares, or exasperation. It isn’t always possible to allow for these movement moments, but the more that can be worked in, the better off everyone is. Jonas needs to use his body.

Jonas needs boundaries. Jonas is happiest when his day is structured and when he knows what to expect and what is expected of him. He needs to know that when he pushes the envelope, someone will let him know he is out of line. He needs to be informed of change and transition if it is out of the every day routine, so he can mentally prepare for that change. He needs to feel a measure of control over his life and what happens to him.

So how do I give my son these things? How do I give him happiness in a school system that is designed to squash the wiggles and the obnoxious attention getting behavior with negativity and anger? I really don’t know.

I have seriously considered home schooling. I think it may be a viable option for us, and I have already begun to look at curriculum and formulate ideas of how to organize our family to make it work for us. I have looked into the legal, social, emotional and personal possibilities, problems, and options. It can work for us. My plan, for now, is to try it out over the summer. We will establish the routines and see if we are happy in it. Jonas will not forget what he has learned over the school year and will hopefully have learned more and solidified his skills. Then, I intend to return him to first grade. I know a lot of maturation can happen over a summer, and I think it is worth a try. Now, I hope he has a teacher who is good with him. I hope that he can continue to experience all of the things about public school that are positive and encouraging and worthwhile, and that he finds much success in his endeavors. I hope that he is happy with himself within this system.

However, if he isn’t, we will know what we can and cannot do for him at home. We will have the option, and we will be prepared for the option. I will not push through another year of school like this one. It is not a fight that we will be engaging in. I will choose my battles wisely, as Jonas has always taught me to do.