Christmas came a couple of days early for us this year, and this early present is specifically for our incredible girl, Courtney. I haven’t held back in expressing how her needs have not been met at her current school, and the legal battle we’ve been facing has been challenging, to say the least.

Today, we received an email with the ruling. While it didn’t specify a placement for Courtney, it did bring a significant acknowledgment: Courtney has NOT been receiving the Free and Appropriate Public Education (FAPE) that every child deserves. It’s disheartening to see this from a school district that is among the highest rated in the state.

In the coming weeks, we will have another meeting with the district and more tours of potential schools. Yes, there will be more adjustments ahead for Courtney, and while these weeks may bring added stress, we truly believe that, in the end, her needs will finally be met.

I can’t express enough gratitude to all of you for being a part of #TeamCourtney and cheering us on during this fight. Your support has been nothing short of amazing.

Merry Christmas to all! Here’s to hope, resilience, and brighter days ahead for Courtney!

Christmas break has arrived. I asked Joe the other day where December went. I knew the answer. It flew by because we were consumed with a legal battle against a school district that we thought could help our daughter with severe autism thrive in the area of education. They have done everything but that. I hate that it consumed my favorite month of the year. I haven’t stopped to enjoy the hustle and bustle of this month that I usually love. I have struggled doing some of my favorite activities to celebrate the coming of Christmas with my girls. I have just begun Christmas shopping. Christmas cards? We will see if those go out. So thank you, district, for not only failing my daughter, but for stealing the joy I usually have during this month.

You can even say they are trying to steal the joy of Christmas break.

On Monday, December 23rd we expect to hear a ruling. Merry Christmas! Unfortunately this ruling, no matter what is decided, doesn’t suddenly give her a placement in a school that could hopefully meet her needs. We hope this ruling helps us continue to have a voice in where she will go to get her needs met. It’s sad that we have to fight to have a voice in that decision.

This week there was an incident that showed me just how much the district is just wanting her out. They are done. This week an adult that works with her daily had no problem making a snide remark to another staff member in front of my nanny AND Courtney about how “disappointed” they were that Courtney was at school after thinking she may be out that day. It crushes my soul that I am left to continuing to send her to a school that doesn’t see just how awesome she is.

I can’t let them steal my Christmas joy this break though. Monday will come and a decision will be shared. No matter what that decision is, there are a few things that will not change.

In our eyes, Courtney is still the most beautiful child and there is a school out there that would be lucky to have her.

We have a “village” of people standing behind us cheering us on and supporting us through this tough journey

And last and most important, we are still her advocates. We are still her voice. We are not ready to give up.

I’m not sure how to put into words what it is like to go through the fight we just went through in this past week. No parent should have to fight this hard for what a child has the right to. Unfortunately we felt we needed to and that is exactly what we did. We fought hard. We were her voice. No matter what the outcome, we know we did all that we could do to make sure her voice, her needs, and her rights was heard.

The search for a therapeutic school for my daughter, Courtney, has been eye-opening, as it has shown me the complexities of special education law and the reality of the support—or lack thereof—available for students with significant needs. More than anything, it has highlighted the struggles faced by families like ours, who are desperately seeking the right resources and advocates for their children.

Have you ever heard of the term FAPE? It stands for Free and Appropriate Public Education. Every child has the right to FAPE. EVERY child. This right should extend beyond those who fit neatly into certain categories. If a school feels unable to provide this within their public institution, they are legally bound to find an alternative placement and ensure the financial support for that student to attend. Yet, somewhere in this process, parents often lose their voice, despite being an essential part of the team. The options for educational placement shrink to almost nothing, as these schools struggle with limited space and staff. To make matters worse, private therapeutic schools can be selective about who they accept, further complicating our search.

This reality leaves students like Courtney feeling lost in a system that’s meant to support them. How can she access the education she not only deserves but also has the right to receive? Many families in similar situations find themselves pulling their children out of the school system altogether, opting for homeschooling. This decision often forces one parent to give up their job to become not just a caregiver, but also a teacher. These parents, who need a break more than anyone, suddenly bear the weight of dual responsibilities—full-time caregiver and educator. For some, the financial burden of fighting for their child’s rights simply isn’t manageable, while others find themselves backed into a corner.

How is this acceptable? How do these injustices persist, often unnoticed by the general public?

Just the other day, a phone conversation almost led us to that very crossroads. As the words “maybe we should just home school her” slipped from my lips, I felt tears welling up. My frustration with the system, the district, and the entire situation reached an all-time high. It pains me deeply to realize that our district is failing Courtney, and I refuse to accept that this is where we must settle.

But here’s the truth—we are not caving in. Homeschooling is not the answer for our family. We will continue to fight for what she has the right to receive. We will not let the system keep Courtney from the education she deserves.

To all the parents out there navigating this challenging journey, know that you are not alone. This process has made me want to come together with others, so we can raise our voices, demand change, and ensure that every child receives the support and education they are entitled to. Let’s stand strong and advocate for our children, because they are worth the fight.

As an autism mom, I often find myself caught in a whirlwind of thoughts about the unknowns. I try my best not to dwell on them, but when so many significant aspects of Courtney’s life are uncertain, it becomes a challenge to push those worries aside. Most of these uncertainties revolve around her education. I never imagined I’d be questioning Courtney’s schooling in such a well-regarded district, one of the top in the state—and almost the country. Yet here we are, wondering much longer she will be at her current school and where she will go next.

Some might say it’s a positive sign that the district recognizes they cannot meet her needs. Perhaps I’m still too frustrated with the journey we’ve taken to appreciate that perspective. If only there had been more consistency over the years—after all, Courtney had five teachers in just two years—maybe we wouldn’t be facing this situation now. But then again, who truly knows?

The real question now is: which school can best meet her needs? The uncertainty weighs heavily on my heart. We stand at a crossroads, unsure which school will come closest to providing the support she requires, especially since options for therapeutic schools with openings are limited. I don’t want to settle for a place that is merely “better than the alternative.” I want her to be somewhere that not only accepts her but also nurtures her unique strengths and helps her thrive. I dream of a school that will empower her to reach her highest potential—whatever that may look like—and guide her toward becoming a “functional” adult in this unpredictable world.

This leads me to the most daunting unknown of all: What will adulthood be like for Courtney? What will her life look like after I’m no longer here to support her? I work hard to keep those thoughts at bay, but they creep in nonetheless. Just the other day, during a visit to a restaurant she’s loved since birth, I found myself questioning whether we would ever enjoy outings as a family again since she only lasted 10 minutes. What about our cherished vacation spots?

So Many Unknowns!!!! No wonder I struggle sleeping at night!

But for now, I need to focus on the one unknown that demands my attention: finding Courtney a new school. What’s the latest update, you ask? Recently, we toured a school on Halloween that piqued our interest. While there were some concerns, there were also aspects we truly appreciated. Tomorrow, they’re coming to observe Courtney at her current school. I’m crossing my fingers and toes that it goes as it should. I hope they can see just how incredibly special she is and that they would be fortunate to welcome her into their community.

In the midst of all these uncertainties, I remind myself to hold onto hope. Each step I take, each decision I make, is a step toward a brighter future for Courtney. And while the unknowns may seem overwhelming at times, I believe that with love, determination, and the right support, we can navigate this journey together.

As some know, we are currently looking at therapeutic schools for Courtney to attend. Without diving too deep into the lagistics of how we got to this point, I will just say there is an advocate and lawyer involved. As a special education teacher, I feared this part of the job. The part where we as a school team decided we can no longer meet the child’s needs. The part where a parent has decided to use legal support to fight the district. Here I am, not as a teacher but as Courtney’s mom. And let me tell you, it is as awful as I feared. I will leave it at that.

Searching for a school that she could possibly be attending for the next 10 years is daunting. What are we actually looking for in a school? What makes it the right school for Courtney? Such difficult questions to answer. The district has sent out her information to 11 different therapeutic schools. 6 schools had no space. 1 school observed her and then we never heard any more from them. We visited 4 other. 2 of which we didn’t like at all and 1 that said they couldn’t meet her needs in the classroom that had a spot available. That leaves us with 1. We visited that one and we really liked it. Courtney even smiled during the tour. She LOVED the sensory room. She didn’t want to leave the room!

Now we wait. Do they have a spot for her? Do they feel they can meet her needs? I want you to think about the hardest thing you ever had to wait for…yes, that’s about how this wait feels. I may even put it right up there with waiting to find out who is going to be elected as the next president! Ok, that may be stretching it but let’s just add that wait to the stress of this week too! (By the way, go out and vote!)

I’m not sure how I will handle anything but a call that says they are accepting her into the program. If this program is a no, I’m not sure what is next.

So…we wait. I will attempt to channel all the positive thoughts I can channel this week. I will take any positive vibes people can send our way.

While we wait, I will leave you with a cool moment we had this weekend. Courtney was trying to verbally request a video she wanted on youtube. I couldn’t tell at all what word she was trying to say. She was getting frustrated and she finally pointed out the bedroom door and said in a demanding tone, “talker”. Again, it was an approximation but I knew exactly what she was saying this time. She wanted her talker so she can tell me what video she wanted since I obviously wasn’t understanding her verbal language. I was so proud! And…she got her video finally.

(Picture of Courtney enjoying a sensory bin on Halloween at her current school.)

Alyssa: “mom, why are you crying? “Are you ok”

Me: “I’m sad.”

Alyssa: “Why? Are you ok?”

Me: “An email from Courtney’s school made me sad.”

Alyssa: “What did they say?”

Me: “I’m sad because I don’t think they understand Courtney and know how to teach her. I don’t want her to go there anymore”

Alyssa: “I don’t either”

Alyssa then leaves and immediately comes back with her iPad, water, and activity she was working on. She sat on the couch really close to me.

I knew what she was doing. She wanted to be really close to me to make me feel better. She wanted to take my sadness away. My little “almost” 9 year old wanted to make it all better. She wanted to do for me what I can only wish I could do for Courtney.

I think what I’m struggling with the most right now is that as Courtney’s mom, I can’t fix things right now. I can’t find that magic wand and make it all better. The “fix” isn’t easy.

In fact, all I can do is keep sending her to the place that can’t see how amazing she is.

They can’t see that behind those bruises on her wrists from self biting is a girl who loves asking for “big hugs”.

They can’t see that maybe, just maybe the answer isn’t isolating her more. Maybe it’s just loving and caring for her more.

Maybe we made our bed when we decided to get help to fight what we feel is best for her. But we are only doing it because we owe it to her. Because we love her.

I wish that for one moment, her team, her district, would take one minute to sit nice and close to her like Alyssa did with me to just showed her they care.

This shirt game home today. It came home today on a day where she shut down the 5th grade wing because something triggered her and she refused to move.

This shirt came home after a few emails were sent through attorneys on how she is a danger to self and others.

This shirt comes from the school who can’t meet her needs.

This shirt comes from the district who wants to out place her before she finishes the 5th grade.

This shirt means the world to so many families.

To me…this shirt stings.

Maybe I shouldn’t let it sting like it does. it is just a shirt.

Unfortunately, it came home on a day that was rough.

So this shirt caused me a great deal of emotions.

It may be just a shirt. But to me…it’s so much more.

At 11:30 pm she started tossing, turning and moaning in her sleep. I knew right away that she wasn’t feeling well. I knew right away I was in for a long night. I knew right away that her and I would be staying home from school. I didn’t know what was wrong at that moment but as a mom of a child who is minimally verbal, I’ve learned to read every little sign and I knew just from her tossing and turning, she was sick.

My anxiety sky rocketed. I hate when she’s sick. First, it’s me having to guess what is wrong. What hurts? Does she need to see a dr? What meds should I give her? Such a guessing game.

I didn’t have to guess this time though! Courtney’s tossing and turning quickly turned in to her being awake. Once awake she grabbed my hand and put it on her right ear and verbalized, “ear”.

The CONVERSATION then went like this…

Me: “Does your ear hurt?”

Courtney: “ear hurt”

Hmmm…but is she just repeating me?

Me: “Do your feet hurt?”

Courtney: “no”

Me: “does your tummy hurt”

Courtney: “no”

Me: “Does your ear hurt?”

Courtney: “yes”

No guessing. No playing detective. No trying to read in to every sign. She told me. Her ear hurt!

I have never been so excited to hear her say she has an ear ache!

Now for her to start feeling better.

Eleven years ago tonight, joe and I went to our favorite Mexican restaurant. That night we were just a married couple enjoying our last night as a family of 2. The next day we became parents. Parents of our beautiful Courtney.

I remember that night well as we talked about what we were about to become.

Eleven years ago we knew we were about to start an amazing adventure but there was no preparing us for the adventure we were truly about to embark.

Eleven years ago we knew we were about to be parents but we had no idea we were about to become autism parents.

Eleven years ago we were about to become mommy and daddy but we didn’t know the effort it would take for her to say mommy or daddy.

Eleven years ago we were prepared for the ups and downs of parenting but we were not prepared for the ups and downs, the struggles and celebrations, the laughter and tears and the complete joy of parenting a child with autism.

Oh Courtney, as we celebrate you and the past 11 years, as unprepared as we were that night, we wouldn’t trade the journey you have brought us on and continue to take us on for the world. We love you, Courtney Cathryn! Happy night before your birthday!