Music to my ears.

I woke up at 4 o'clock this morning with knots in my stomach. The anticipation of Payton's eligibility meeting for her kindergarten transition was killing me. The transition meetings are two-fold... first there is eligibility to deem her eligible for special education services and to reassign her a label... and then there is her IEP meeting... during which the dreaded placement is determined.

Several weeks ago... I consented to a full battery of psychological testing on Payton. I was not exactly sure I did the right thing in consenting to the cognitive piece, as I do not necessarily agree that performing an IQ test on a 5 year old with Down syndrome is a reliable thing to do. Nonetheless... I consented because I was confident in Payton and her abilities.

Payton and her amazing teacher of two years

Going into today's eligibility meeting, I was so afraid that they were going to throw this unreliable IQ number across the table and claim that she automatically fell into an ID (intellectually disabled) label... which is the new MR (mentally retarded) label. Currently, Payton has a DD (developmentally delayed) label... as does every other preschool child with special needs.

Long story short... the time constraints did not allow the psychologist to conduct the cognitive testing. I was freakin elated... normally time constraints would not fly with me, but for this... I'll take it since I was not sure I really wanted it. So the outcomes were completely based on reporting of Payton's teacher, the social worker, me and the bits and pieces that the psychologist has seen Payton.

Payton and one of her classroom aides of two years

The psychologist handed me her report and began speaking. She went through the scores and went on and on about how well Payton has done. Her scores average out just slightly below average... and whew... open the freakin flood gates! I covered my face with the report and couldn't keep it in... I was ecstatic. I brought the paper away from my face and the psychologist asked me, "Are those happy tears or sad tears?" Happy tears, of course! And then the social worker started crying... and then Payton's teacher started crying.

How did we get so freakin lucky!?! I freakin love them. I love that they see the Payton that I see.

Payton and one of her classroom aides of two years

Based on all of this, the social worker said, "We cannot even consider the ID label. Payton's scores are way too high." Oh.my.goodness those words were music to my ears. Not because I am in denial over Payton's progress or her diagnosis... but because I do not want her tagged with a bulls eye on her forehead. It should not be that way... but sadly, it often is.

So we remain with a DD label and we will reevaluate before she turns 7 years old. Good by me! Next up: reconvene next week to set IEP goals and determine placement.