Before Dyslexia Awareness Month ends, I want to share some of my go-to resources.  After Wilson’s diagnosis, I did what I always do: I tried to consume all of the information to be able to make intelligent decisions. Here are some of my favorites, in no particular order.  BOOKS I read the book that everyone seems to start with Sally Shaywitz, “ Overcoming Dyslexia .” Then I read “ The Dyslexia Advantage ” by Fernette Eide. I threw that one across the room because early on, I didn’t see Wilson’s learning differences as much of an advantage. Initially, I had no idea how much the interventions would help and what progress he would make.  “ This is Dyslexia ” is a great book by Kate Griggs, founder of Made by Dyslexia . The organization is promoting the positives of learning differences. Their social media always has good tips and interviews with famous dyslexics, like Sir Richard Branson, a major sponsor. They even worked with LinkedIn to get #dyslexicthinking a label on the site.   Made

The process of finding someone to perform a neuropsychological evaluation, go through the testing, get the reports, and then work with your child’s school is time consuming and overwhelming. I think we got the name of the place to get the evaluation from Wilson’s doctor. I remember him saying it could be too early to do the testing. He thought if something was developmental, we might not get a complete or accurate picture of what was going on… yet. Neuropsychological evaluations are also expensive. Many people don’t get them because of the cost. Ours was not covered by insurance. I have read that some are, but I am not sure how that happens. I guess it depends on your plan (?). When they asked the questions about Wilson’s birth during the intake, we got the impression that if he were dropped on his head, his issues would be physical and then covered under insurance. I think it’s a small commentary on mental health; physical issues are easier to understand. I remember the intake meeting

Anyone who knows Wilson will tell you he is a very kind human. I am proud to say I have heard it from many teachers, adults, and even a handful of kids. He’s always been that way; he's very empathetic and someone who doesn’t start a fight. So, it was a great surprise to me when Wilson's behavior was the first thing I heard about in kindergarten. We had never heard this in all his years in daycare/pre-school.  The first parent-teacher conference was a shock. It started with the teacher sliding Wilson’s handwriting across the table and telling me it was a problem. No solution was offered. Then she told me Wilson had pushed someone on the playground. Not that day, but recently. No real details about what happened; she had heard it from the aides. I asked if she saw anything positive and mentioned that Wilson was really funny, hoping it would trigger a compliment. She hadn’t noticed. Apparently, no one had taught this young teacher the “sandwich method” that most managers learn - g

Now that you know the “ending” of our story – Wilson is settling into Bradley University in Peoria, Illinois – it only makes sense to start at the very beginning. I have to admit, this has been a hard blog to write because I don’t know how much of the beginning is important.  Everything was pretty “normal” for the first child of working parents living in suburban Boston. I think we shared many of the same hopes and dreams for that teeny baby that most parents do. You want the best for your child. You see that perfect little face and are full of hope.   There’s so much you don’t know when you see your baby for the first time. Will he be smart, funny, athletic, artistic? Will he struggle with the same things I did? Will he be an introvert or an extrovert? Which pieces of which parent will show up in him? Who will he look like? Wilson is my maiden name, and as the oldest of three girls born to an only son, it made sense to name my son Wilson. When he was born, he looked like me, so it see

Sitting on the airplane with my eyes closed tight, trying not to cry and failing miserably. Tears are streaming down my face. I feel untethered. Floating without a purpose. What I have spent nearly 18 years fighting for has finally happened, and I don't know what to do next. My one-and-only baby boy moved into his college dorm, ready to start his new life. Mission accomplished - we figured out how to support his learning differences and got him through high school. And, despite my bursting pride and feelings of accomplishment, I would be lying if I didn’t admit I’m also feeling a little lost. I am ridiculously proud of him and his readiness to start this next chapter of his life. But alas, now I have to figure out mine.  I know I’m not alone in this feeling; my Facebook feed is full of well-wishers who have been through it and people in my position preparing to drop off. There are many blogs telling parents why we feel this way and how to cope. It’s not that I won’t have things to