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IEP Bingo

http://www.sensory-processing-disorder.com/iep-bingo.html

 

IEP Bingo
by Jennifer
(Ontario, Canada)

I had shared some of the IEP humour from this site on a yahoo group. Another lady then shared this game. He takes the most commonly used phrases in a meeting and makes a bingo board. Then he crosses the phrases off as the meeting rolls along to pass the time. He may try to win with one line or a square or the whole board. We decided to modify the game to suit an IEP meeting. We are all Home Educators but some of us have had our children in school, we have endured the IEP meetings. We have helped others get pass the dread of other's telling them what they can or cannot do for their children. So, we know a phrase or two. I would love to add to the list!

Here's what we have so far for our IEP Bingo:

your son
your daughter
we can't comply
we tried that
different at home
special needs
your parenting
honest
we did that
didn't work
IEP
education assistant
change
same
no funding
just take him and homeschool

 

 

 

 

 

 

The IEP According to Dr. Seuss

 

Do you like these IEPs?

I do not like these IEPs

I do not like them, Jeeze Louise

We test, we check, we plan, we meet

But nothing ever seems complete

 

Would you, could you like the form?

I do not like the form I see

Not page 1, not 2, not 3

Another change, a brand new box

I think we all have lost our rocks

 

Could you all meet here or there?

We could not meet here or there,

We cannot all fit anywhere.

Not in a room, Not in the hall

There seems to be no space at all.

 

Would you, could you meet again?

I cannot meet again next week,

No lunch no prep please hear me speak.

No, not at dusk, not at dawn

At 4pm I should be gone.

 

Could you hear while all speak out?

Would you write the words they spout?

I could not hear, I could not write,

This does not need to be a fight.

Sign here, date there, mark this, check that,

Beware the students advocate.

 

You do not like them so you say,

Try again, Try again

And you may

If you will let me be,

I will try again, you will see!

 

Say!

I almost like these IEPs

I think I'll write 6003

And I will practice day and night,

Until they say "You got it right!"

 

 

 

Your School District Might Be a Pain In The Neck If... by Lori Miller Fox "worthy"

 

As a parent of a child with special needs, I suspect that some of my parental involvement may have been considered bothersome by the school district. However, it seems to me that most of the time, it is the district that is the real source of trouble. So in the quest for fairness,

I’ve come up with some criteria (a la Jeff Foxworthy) that I hope will be helpful in identifying the real culprit.  So use it wisely and feel confident in knowing that your school district may be a pain in the neck IF…

 

they think  No Child Left Behind means taking a final

head count on a field trip.

 

your child’s one-to-one can’t add one to one.

 

the Special Ed Director thinks hippotherapy means riding on the back of a hippo.

 

they think AAC is what keeps you cool in the summer.

 

there are notches on the school district’s side of the conference table.

 

the school’s special education attorney has a permanent office in the district office building.

 

the school nurse sends your child home because the teacher has a headache.

 

the superintendent can’t come to your child’s IEP because of the restraining order.

 

they pat you down before the IEP meeting.

 

the school district’s brand new conference room chairs already need to have the cushions replaced.

 

when you go to an IEP meeting, the team brings a change of clothes.

 

they consider an inclusive placement standing between two regular ed kids in the lunch line.

 

they consider outdoor recess a least restrictive environment.

 

your child’s inclusive classroom has only one chair in it.

 

they think that mainstreaming got its name from throwing a child in, sink or swim.

 

when you go to an IEP meeting, the Special Education Director gives you decaf and tells you it’s caffeinated just to get you off  your game.

 

you carry a prescription for Godiva in your purse or pocket.

 

your school’s idea of a behavioral intervention plan exclusively consists of hand clapping and a sugar cookie.

 

the seventh grade summer school school-supply list only asks for pipe cleaners, cotton balls and glue.

 

you have your special education attorney’s phone number on speed dial.

 

 

Your Child Might Have An IEP If...

 

If you have ever attended a meeting at school with 25 professionals... your child might have an IEP.
 

If you are the only one wearing jeans.... your child might have an IEP.
 

If these professionals speak a different language.... your child might have an IEP.
 

If the meeting room was the size of a closet... your child might have an IEP.
 

If you have ever been asked, "do you think your child is the only one in the district?"...your child might have an

IEP.
 

If you have ever heard, "we do not have money for that!"... your child might have an IEP.
 

If you have ever been called an "overprotective, hysterical parent" or an "uninvolved parent"... your child might have an IEP.
 

If you have ever been told your child "will just grow out of it", "is lazy", "slow", "irresponsible", "immature and/or sensitive" etc...etc... your child might have an IEP.
 

If you feel you have walked into "Assertiveness Training 101" by accident...your child might have an IEP.
 

If you have ever been screamed at by a school official...your child might have an IEP.
 

If you have ever been told your child will be lucky to grow up and dig ditches...your child might have an IEP.
 

If it has ever been suggested to move to another District...your child might have an IEP.
 

If you have ever been invited to home school your child... your child might have an IEP.
 

If you have ever called the school and asked for your child and were told "we do not have anyone here by that name..." your child might have an IEP.
 

If your family is ever discussed in the teachers lounge... you might have an IEP.
 

If every time you call the school board office, the person you need to talk you is in a meeting...you might have an IEP.
 

If a meeting with the school has ever been rescheduled more than twice to the time you definitely can not come...your child might have an IEP.
 

If you have ever been patted on the shoulder and called "honey" by the principal...your child might have an IEP.
 

If it has ever been suggested all your child needs is a "good spanking to straighten him/her up..." your child might have an IEP.
 

If you have been asked by a teacher to "just sign it!"... your child definitely has an IEP...

 

 

 

 

JUST A MOM?

A woman, renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk's office was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation.

She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.

"What I mean is," explained the recorder, "do you have a job or are you just a.....?"

"Of course I have a job," snapped the woman.

"I'm a Mom."

"We don't list 'Mom' as an occupation, 'housewife' covers it," said the recorder emphatically.

I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall.

The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient and possessed of a high sounding title like, "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."

"What is your occupation?" she probed.

What made me say it?

I do not know.

The words simply popped out.

"I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."

The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair and looked up as though she had not heard right.

I repeated the title slowly emphasizing the most significant words.

Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written, in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.

"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?"

Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I have a continuing program of research, [what mother doesn't) in the laboratory and in the field, (normally I would have said indoors and out).

I'm working for my Masters, (first the Lord and then the whole family) and already have four credits (all daughters).

Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities, (any mother care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it).

But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money."

There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up and personally ushered me to the door.

As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3.

Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model, (a 6-month-old baby) in the child development program, testing out a new vocal pattern.

I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy!

And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another Mom." Motherhood!

What a glorious career!

Especially when there's a title on the door.

Does this make grandmothers "Senior Research associates in the field of Child Development and Human Relations" and great grandmothers "Executive Senior Research Associates"?

I think so!!!

I also think it makes Aunts "Associate Research Assistants".

 

 

(Personal note from the webmistress: My mother liked the title "Domestic Engineer.")  :)
 

 

 

 

For Better Or For Worse

 

 

 

 

 

There Must Be Fifty Ways to Leave Your District by Lori Miller Fox

Now that our son has graduated from Junior High, we can finally say farewell to the sometimes problematic school district that has educated him for the past twelve-plus years and begin anew with High School. And while there were several wonderful one-to-ones, PHIs, more than a few teachers, and even a very fair-minded Special Education Director, who provided real leadership and caring, now that we’re finally finished there have been times that I felt like “I wish we could’ve left sooner.” I dedicate this post to all of the struggling families out there still stuck in unhealthy district relationships and offer some creative ways to make a clean break.
So, like the song says (sort of)...“Get on the schoolbus, Gus. Make a transition plan, Stan. Get your appropriate education free, Lee. And just listen to me...”

The first thing you may want to do is just look the team straight in their eyes and argue “we were never really right for each other.”

Or highlight your incompatibility by claiming “we were simply thrown together by a twist of FAPE.”

If they need a reason, you could be honest and offer “there was no augmentative communication between us.”

If they get huffy you can ask them, “why do you care? You’re hardly ever there -- Teacher’s Institute, Inservice, public holidays, maternity leave...”

If they demand more concrete information, you can lay your cards on the table and blurt out “face it, after the first IEP meeting, the trust was gone.”

Or you can mention specifics and tell them, “it’s been over ever since I caught you cheating on my child’s evaluation.”

You can try explaining your side and state, “I feel like you don’t understand a word I’m saying, maybe it’s because you have an unqualified speech therapist.”

Note the irreconcilable differences with the school and declare, “when it comes to educating the children, I have to do everything myself.”

Let them know your frustration and complain “all week long I slave and slave over boring textbooks, relearning subjects I had to learn years ago, and do I get a word of encouragement or acknowledgment? No, all I hear about is what I don’t do.”

If you want to be more neutral and not point out blame, just tell them “the 1, 2, 3, Magic is gone.”

If you’re feeling a little torn, you can explain, “lately, I feel like the only thing between us is a mediation table.”

If you want to skirt around the issue, you can say “I can’t help but shake the feeling that when you’re teaching concepts in the classroom, you’re really just not that into them.”

If you want to be a little more direct, you can announce “I’m tired of faking it, you’re not satisfying my child in the classroom. The private tutor takes them to a higher place -- higher education. “

If you must be blunt, cry out “I lied. Grades do matter, kids don’t always fail, and it is a big deal!”

If things get violent, make an excuse, and calmly state “I’m just going out for a pack of Pediasure.”

Once you own your power, proudly declare “I’m a different person now, I have read my Parents’ Rights Manual.”

If things start to get really ugly, don’t worry, just take a step back and utter the following words “have your special education lawyer call my special education lawyer.”

Try to put it all behind you and suggest , “I’m hoping by Junior High School Graduation, this will all have been a bad dream.”

Propose that they “remember the good times -- like Christmas Break.”

If all else fails, just be honest and shout “staying together is only hurting the children !”

[And when all else fails, remember to give your 10 day notice of unilateral placement.]

 

 

 

The Bitter Homeschooler's Wish List

From Secular Homeschooling Magazine, Issue #1

 1 Please stop asking us if it's legal. If it is — and it is — it's  insulting to imply that we're criminals. And if we were criminals,  would we admit it?

 2 Learn what the words "socialize" and "socialization" mean, and use  the one you really mean instead of mixing them up the way you do  now. Socializing means hanging out with other people for fun.  Socialization means having acquired the skills necessary to do so  successfully and pleasantly. If you're talking to me and my kids, that means that we do in fact go outside now and then to visit the other human beings on the planet, and you can safely assume that we've got a decent grasp of both concepts.

 3 Quit interrupting my kid at her dance lesson, scout meeting, choir practice, baseball game, art class, field trip, park day, music class, 4H club, or soccer lesson to ask her if as a homeschooler she ever gets to socialize.

 4 Don't assume that every homeschooler you meet is homeschooling for the same reasons and in the same way as that one homeschooler you know.

 5 If that homeschooler you know is actually someone you saw on TV, either on the news or on a "reality" show, the above goes double.

 6 Please stop telling us horror stories about the homeschoolers you know, know of, or think you might know who ruined their lives by homeschooling. You're probably the same little bluebird of happiness whose hobby is running up to pregnant women and inducing premature labor by telling them every ghastly birth story you've ever heard.  We all hate you, so please go away.

 7 We don't look horrified and start quizzing your kids when we hear they're in public school. Please stop drilling our children like potential oil fields to see if we're doing what you consider an adequate job of homeschooling.

 8 Stop assuming all homeschoolers are religious.

 9 Stop assuming that if we're religious, we must be homeschooling for religious reasons.

 10 We didn't go through all the reading, learning, thinking, weighing of options, experimenting, and worrying that goes into homeschooling just to annoy you. Really. This was a deeply personal decision, tailored to the specifics of our family. Stop taking the bare fact of our being homeschoolers as either an affront or a judgment about your own educational decisions.

 11 Please stop questioning my competency and demanding to see my credentials. I didn't have to complete a course in catering to successfully cook dinner for my family; I don't need a degree in teaching to educate my children. If spending at least twelve years in the kind of chew-it-up-and-spit-it-out educational facility we call public school left me with so little information in my memory banks that I can't teach the basics of an elementary education to my nearest and dearest, maybe there's a reason I'm so reluctant to send my child to school.

 12 If my kid's only six and you ask me with a straight face how I can possibly teach him what he'd learn in school, please understand that you're calling me an idiot. Don't act shocked if I decide to respond in kind.

 13 Stop assuming that because the word "home" is right there in "homeschool," we never leave the house. We're the ones who go to the amusement parks, museums, and zoos in the middle of the week and in the off-season and laugh at you because you have to go on weekends and holidays when it's crowded and icky.

 14 Stop assuming that because the word "school" is right there in homeschool, we must sit around at a desk for six or eight hours every day, just like your kid does. Even if we're into the "school" side of education — and many of us prefer a more organic approach —  we can burn through a lot of material a lot more efficiently, because we don't have to gear our lessons to the lowest common denominator.

 15 Stop asking, "But what about the Prom?" Even if the idea that my kid might not be able to indulge in a night of over-hyped, over-priced revelry was enough to break my heart, plenty of kids who do go to school don't get to go to the Prom. For all you know, I'm one of them. I might still be bitter about it. So go be shallow somewhere else.

 16 Don't ask my kid if she wouldn't rather go to school unless you don't mind if I ask your kid if he wouldn't rather stay home and get some sleep now and then.

 17 Stop saying, "Oh, I could never homeschool!" Even if you think it's some kind of compliment, it sounds more like you're horrified.  One of these days, I won't bother disagreeing with you any more.

 18 If you can remember anything from chemistry or calculus class, you're allowed to ask how we'll teach these subjects to our kids. If you can't, thank you for the reassurance that we couldn't possibly do a worse job than your teachers did, and might even do a better one.

 19 Stop asking about how hard it must be to be my child's teacher as well as her parent. I don't see much difference between bossing my kid around academically and bossing him around the way I do about everything else.

 20 Stop saying that my kid is shy, outgoing, aggressive, anxious, quiet, boisterous, argumentative, pouty, fidgety, chatty, whiny, or loud because he's homeschooled. It's not fair that all the kids who go to school can be as annoying as they want to without being branded as representative of anything but childhood.

 21 Quit assuming that my kid must be some kind of prodigy because she's homeschooled.

 22 Quit assuming that I must be some kind of prodigy because I homeschool my kids.

 23 Quit assuming that I must be some kind of saint because I homeschool my kids.

 24 Stop talking about all the great childhood memories my kids won't get because they don't go to school, unless you want me to start asking about all the not-so-great childhood memories you have  because you went to school.

 25 Here's a thought: If you can't say something nice about homeschooling, shut up!
 

 

 

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