getting what we paid for

Any New Yorker can tell you that it costs to live here, and that you'd better plan on forking over a shocking amount of your paycheck to the city in taxes. Until recently, Blake and I saw this exorbitant city tax as a necessary evil because, other than your standard garbage removal and law enforcement, we weren't heavily reaping the benefits. But then Garrett's ability to talk didn't develop normally and suddenly we find ourselves being showered with assistance we wouldn't have otherwise been able to afford. We had to fight hard to get it, but I'm realizing now just how worth it the fight has been. Once you've worked your way in, The System can treat you pretty well.

Case in point: Not only has Garrett been deemed eligible to receive in-home speech therapy services three times a week through Early Intervention, but because he also qualifies for CPSE, the Preschool Special Ed program, the EI services will extend through the summer instead of terminating in a few weeks on his 3rd birthday. After Labor Day, his therapy will be placed under the direction of the Department of Education. Our first IEP meeting has been scheduled to be held in about two weeks, and at that point exactly how many sessions he'll receive a week will be discussed. Another thing we'll be doing at the meeting is hammering out the details for the FREE preschool education Garrett is eligible for starting this fall. Suddenly paying the city tax feels more like a blessing than anything.

After touring the school the district referred Garrett for last week, and after all parties involved (me, Garrett, and the principal) realized that it would, in fact, be a good fit, we decided to move forward with the opportunity. The school, which is located in our neighborhood, is housed in an old parochial school behind a nearby Catholic church. The class he'll be attending is an integrated one with both a regular teacher and a special ed teacher. Of the 20 students in the class, 10 are mainstream Pre-K students and 10 are children ranging in age from 3-5 with mild disabilities. Garrett falls in the latter category, and will be receiving his speech therapy at the school. The class is held Monday through Friday for half a day, and, as I understand things, Garrett will also be receiving door-to-door bus service as well. And, as an extra bonus for me, he doesn't even have to be potty trained to be enrolled, though I plan to revive our efforts to train him before the summer is over just the same.

Garrett loved the school, and so did I. Everyone we met was genuine and welcoming, and, judging by the student art hanging on every available bit of wall space, it looks like the curriculum is excellent, too. While I'd rather it wasn't a difficulty for Garrett to verbally communicate that landed us in this place, I'm glad we're here just the same. One of the reasons I've been a little hesitant to agree to live in Brooklyn for longer than we had originally anticipated was my fear of having to figure out how to work my way into the school system. Education in New York City is cutthroat, and the competition is fierce, so it is an incredible blessing to have something like this fall down from the sky and land so nicely in my lap. (And now I guess we can stick around these parts for a while yet.)

So now instead of simply anticipating another fall, winter, and spring, I'm looking forward to a "school year" -- my first as a mother. Wow. That crept up on me faster than I thought it would. (And faster than I'd originally planned.) It might just be preschool, but it'll be an adventure just the same. And with any luck, Garrett's consistent exposure to children his age, whose verbal communication skills are up to speed, will speed up his own ability to talk with more clarity.