Today was the first day of the formal Andrew assessment. We had a 9:30 appointment to meet with the psychology student who came to our house last week. We had dutifully completed both of the questionnaires she had given us. We have shared about a million stories. Now, it was Andrew's turn to show what he could do.
Unfortunately, he woke up crabby. His body still needs to nap 3-4 times a week, but he simply refuses. He hadn't napped all week, so his body was feeling the cumulative effect of not enough sleep. Therefore, we had a number of mini meltdowns long before we left the house. Needless to say, I was a little concerned with how he would react to a formal testing situation. He kept asking me what would happen if he wanted to see me while he was with the psychologist. I didn't know how to respond, so I kind of left it unanswered. I packed a small snack and off we went.
When we got to the center, we were taken to a sparse room with a kid-sized table, a few kid-sized chairs and a mirror. No bright pictures on the wall. No windows. I suppose that the spartan like conditions reduce distractions. Andrew stayed in the room while I went into an adjoining room with our social worker. We listened on an intercom and watched through a two-way mirror. I felt a like I was on a police drama behind that mirror.
What I witnessed was an eye-opener in so many ways. I discovered that my son is very capable of repeating simple patterns using small blocks. I discovered that, if necessary, he can sit for long periods of time, attempting boring tasks (maybe he will work in a cubicle one day). I discovered that when bored, Andrew will begin to phone in his answers and roll his eyes.
Overall, he seemed to do okay on the cognitive tasks he was asked to complete. The tester asked me if there were items that I knew he could do, but blew off. I pointed out several instance where just put no effort into his answer. She told me that she would try those specific ones again on Monday.
On Monday, I was told that the testing would be more play based, more fun. I will actually be in the room, though off to the side. I will be interested to see how that goes. If I remember correctly, this testing will more directly address Andrew's social skills.
5 comments:
I was always so intrigued when I got a chance to observe one of my kids when they didn't know I was there, but those opportunities didn't happen very often. As soon as the child in question sensed my presence, they became, in an instant, my kid again and not the one I had been observing.
Anyway, on the nap thing...I used to "refuse" to let a tired but reluctant napper take a nap, but they were permitted to lie down in the "nest" we had just made out of blankets and pillows and act like a squirrel, or a pterodactyl.
That's cute about the nest. Maybe I'll try something like that.
This brings back one of my earliest memories. I was about 4 years old and my dad took me downtown so I could play with blocks. It was some kind of test and I think the person who was doing it was getting a degree or doing a study or something. I have no recollection of the person we met just that I played with blocks and made patterns as requested. Then my dad and I went and looked at the unfinished Arch. Looking at the Arch with my dad is one of the few vivid memories I have of being with my dad as a young child.
I only tell this to remind you that when Andrew remembers this (if he remembers it) it will be in an entirely different connotation than you remember it.
I'm sure his memory of these events will be so different from mine. We won't have an unfinished Arch to view, so we'll have to settle for new summer sandals and lunch.
I always tried to do something like Laura to get my girls to take their naps, but they were extremely hard headed and would have none of it.
Good luck on the naps and testing.
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