Dyslexic Friendly book

Many of you have been following my stories about Lochie.  I've also had many messages and emails asking when my book will be ready for release.  Spider and Bat IS NOW AVAILABLE FOR PRESALE!!

Spider and Bat is printed in Open Dyslexic font and is interesting enough to engage the intelligent dyslexic mind.  All Spider and Bat advententures have a personal development element.  As a qualified Youth Worker, I believe that all stories should encourge learning and discussion.

Lochie developed a strong fear, even hate of books when he was about 8.  To him, they were something all his friends could master, but he could not.   There are a few publishers now releasing novels in Open Dyslexic font which is fantastic, but I believe that a childrens book series can assist a dyslexic child before they become reluctant to read.

Spider and Bat is a flip book, meaning that reading from front to back it is in Open Dyslexic font.  Turn it to the back and read in normal text.  This means, if you have a dyslexic child, they can learn to read the Open Dyslexic font and you can read them the story in normal text.  Or, if you are a dyslexic parent, you can read to your child!

When Lochie read Spider and Bat for the first time, he looked up and said "This is amazing, the words dont move".  I just wish someone had developed something like this much earlier.

This book is the start of a series.  Available now for presale on http://www.p101.com.au/dyslexiaenhanced.htm.  In order for me to get these books printed and sent, I need to presell.

All of you that have encouraged me alog the way, this is now the time to support.  Please go check out the link.

Parent Teacher Interview

Standing in the huge school hall filled with rows and rows of desks my mind flashed back to the days of high school exams.  Today, however, was not about exams.  It was about something that made me more nervous than any VCE student.  Year 7 Parent Teacher interviews.

My stomach churned as I looked around for the teachers who had "requested" interviews with me to discuss Lochie's education.  I lined up at Mr Barlow, the woodwork teacher, first.  Lochie was so good with his hands that surely this would be a positive one to start with.
I watched Mr Barlows current interview.  Mr Barlow, parent and child were all looking relaxed and smiling a lot.  Perhaps this might be an ok interview.  Mr Barlow might be really nice.
"Thank you so much for coming", smiled Mr Barlow as he shook the hand of the smiling parent and ruffled the hair of the cheerful little boy as they bounced off to see the next teacher.
He beconed for me to come and sit.  I looked around anxiously for Lochie.  He seemed to have disappeared.  Surprise, thats not unusual for Lochie.  Always distracted.
"Come, come", called the teacher again.  I sat on the hard chair, and glanced around again for Lochie. 
"So, and who's parent are you", he asked smiling.
"Lachlan Montgomery, 7S", I smiled back.  I caught a glimpse of Lochie out of the corner of my eye and started waving.  He didn't see me.
I looked back to Mr Barlow.  He was no longer smiling.
"Hmmm", he said.  "Lochie, is often somewhat distracted in class.  He is failing woodwork."
My heart sank.  Surely Lochie would be doing ok in a class like this.
"Seriously?", I asked.
"Yes.  He seems unable to follow instructions.  There is nothing wrong with the quality of work he achieves, but, he doesn't follow the process that is written out and therefore makes errors."
Oh no, it seems that even a woodwork class relys on written instructions. Don't teachers ever teach anymore?

"I see.  Did you realise that Lochie is dyslexic and the written instructions would cause a problem for him?  It is clearly noted in his file." I explained.
"I didn't know but I don't care." Mr Barlow was clear.  He had no intention of arguing the point.  To him, Lochie wasn't easy.  He was too creative, too quick and did things before he had been shown.  A problem in the class.
Result: Fail for woodwork

I was really disappointed, and surprised.  Lochie explained later how woodwork class was conducted.  Students came in and were handed a sheet of instructions.  The teacher showed the finished product and explained what tools would be required along with strict safety guidelines.  Students then had to follow the instructions and produce identical pencil boxes, model airplanes etc.  Lochie said that it was true that he rarely read the instructions and simply looked at the finished product and made it.  He said his was usually better adding in things like rounded corners, shaped feet or extra hinges.
I sighed.  How can you win that battle.  He produced a great product but didnt fit into the box the teacher needed him to.
If I were a teacher and had a student that had a talent for woodwork and was failing every other class (except physical education), I would put in efforts to engage with him and expand his talents.  If the whole education system is aimed at engaging students in school until they are 17, how can teachers not attempt to engage using a students talent just because it takes a little extra effort.

A class that should have been enjoyable and an escape from the constant pressure to read, failed to provide that environment.

Instead, it joined the long list of things that school did to destry Lochie's self esteem and happiness. 

Battle continues

I sent a letter to explain the situation with Lochies condition and why the ticket was not purchased for the train.

My son, Lachlan Montgomery, has been issued the above infringement notice for travelling without a valid ticket. 

Lachlan is dyslexic and does not use public transport.  On the day in question, Lachlan lost his car keys and had to get a train home.  He is unable to read the instructions to purchase the new metcard from the machine.   As a 19 year old with a disability, he felt embarrassed to ask for help to buy a ticket from the ticket machine.  As the station was unmanned, he could not purchase a ticket through the station either. 

Lachlan took the train to Dandenong, got off the train and went to purchase a ticket before he continued he journey home to Beaconsfield.  He was on his way to purchase a ticket when he was questioned by the ticket inspector.  He explained that he cannot read or understand the instructions on the ticket machine and was on his way to the line to purchase a ticket, but the ticket inspector issued him a ticket anyway. 

I understand that Ticket Inspectors hear many stories each day and most are not valid.  Lachlan has an actual disability and until he began working, I was paid a disability carer allowance from Centrelink to assist him with day to day activities.  In general, Lochie functions quite well, but, in a situation where you need to read, he is unable to cope and this is what has happened in this instance. If you could look at the amount of reading on those new ticket machines and think for one minute how someone would feel if they couldn’t read at all, I’m sure you will comprehend his anxiety in this situation.  If I could have foreseen any circumstance that Lochie would have needed a metcard, I would have bought him one for emergencies, which I have now.

I’m asking for this infringement to be waived due to Lochies disability and the fact that we have now put a strategy in place for any future emergencies. 

If the infringement is not waived, I request having this offence heard and determined in court. 

Regards,

Tracy Montgomery

0425748459

The response I received was a return letter stating that I would need a GP (doctor) to write a letter to show that Lochie was in fact, suffering from Dyslexia.  

Really?  A Doctor can now diagnose dyslexia?  Insanity.  

Of course no doctor could provide that kind of letter.

I responded with another letter stating that dyslexia was not something that a doctor could diagnose.  I requested a court date where I could state my case and Lochie would have a chance to explain his situation to a Judge. 

Next letter, Infringement waived.  

Yay, it's not often I get a win but I did today for Lochie.  

I sincerely wish that government organisations had a bit more understanding of certain disabilies including dyslexia.

Do you have a story of having to prove dyslexia?  Please share in the comments or email me directly at tracy@nutsup.com.au.

Reading

“Lochie, your turn”.

Upon hearing those words, a heavy stone formed in my stomach, weighing me down further as each moment passed.  Everything is going in slow motion.  I imagined the stone becoming so heavy that it would force me down through the floor and into the earth with only my head poking up.   I braced my legs and hoped that it would happen. 

The clock on the wall was shouting down at me, “THREE MINUTES TO GO”, teasing me with each slight movement of the second hand.  I blinked and stared at it.  It seemed to have moved backwards.  How was that possible?  As I watched that hand, it seemed to be that the movements were in tune with the pounding in my head as the blood rushed through my brain, searching for the area which held the knowledge I needed.  Would it find it this time?  It doesn’t usually.  Stupid brain lets me down all the time.

My stomach now had butterflies fluttering around the stone.  I could picture them clearly flying around, pausing to land on the stone.  Surprisingly those little butterflies made the stone even heavier.  Who would have thought that?  They look so light?   I imagined again being swallowed up by the ground below me.  

Original Artwork Opal Vagelatos 2012

“Lochie!”

I glared at the clock are realised that all the imagining in the world wasn’t going to make this go away.  I swallowed hard, wiped my sweaty hands on my pants, scratched my head and looked down at the page. 

It was worse than normal.  All I could see was black lines, moving like waves lapping onto the shore, and the white rivers running through them.  The harder I looked, the more everything moved.  Waves and rivers, moving, getting bigger, smaller, moving moving.  I felt sick. 

“Can I go to the toilet”?  I asked.

“Lochie there are two minutes before the bell.   Just do your reading and then you can go”, replied the teacher getting annoyed.

I look back down at the page.  The black wavy lines were faint and still moving.  I could feel the acid raising in my stomach and sitting in my throat.  Burning.   A very unpleasant sensation.  I wiped my hands on my pants again and picked up the book.  I took a last glance at the ground.  It didn’t look like I was going to be swallowed up in time.  My mind went briefly to thoughts I have had before.  Bad thoughts, about V-line trains and never having to go to school again.

Squinting, I put the book close to my face.  “Sir, I haven’t got my glasses, I can’t see it”.

“Lochie, you don’t wear glasses”, he said exasperated.

“No wonder I can’t see it then!”, I said.  There were a few giggles from my classmates.  I put on my charming smile and looked around the class. The smart girls were rolling their eyes but most of the kids looked amused.

Ding……..ding……..ding…….ding 

Saved by the bell.  I grabbed my bag and ran.  I was out the door before the teacher could say “please stack your chairs”.  I knew he would catch up with me the next day but for now, I was out of there!  I could breathe.  My head no longer pounded.  The stone in my stomach had reduced, but was still there as a reminder that it was only a temporary reprieve and that I will still have to face up to the teacher tomorrow.  Maybe not.  Perhaps I’ll never go back to school again. 

These few paragraphs were put together with my son Lochie who is dyslexic.  It shows the absolute fear and pressure that schools put onto kids with a learning disability.  I certainly hope that teachers read this and get a bit of an insight into what goes on in the head of some of these kids. 

It is also the introduction to a book that Lochie and I are putting together to raise awareness of dyslexia. The book will tell stories of what Lochie, and other kids like him have been through.  Lochie is a survivor.

Best Teacher EVER!

Throughout all of Lochies time at school, he had only one very special teacher who put in huge efforts to understand, help and support him.

In Grade 3, Lochie was pretty excited to have a male teacher.  Mr Daniels was a fairly young teacher.  Full of enthusiasm, energy and ready for a full on year.  He arranged meetings with all the parents at the begining of the year to have a little bit of insight into all his students.  The meeting with me was a little longer because he had read Lochies file and knew about his problems.

Mr Daniels spent a lot of time engaging with Lochie and building up his confidence by highlighting things he was good at. If the class was doing sports, he would often use Lochie to demonstrate a skill, or explain a rule.  In the classroom, he would never ask Lochie to read out loud or do the times tables competitions because he knew Lochie just couldn't do it and would feel bad.  Mr Daniels understood that Lochie was always willing to try, but didn't push him if Lochie wasn't comfortable to do so.

It is rare to find a teacher with this much insight into their students.  In my experience anyway.  Mr Daniels encouraged Lochie to try things and would stay back with him after class, to hear him try to read out aloud rather than making him do it in front of his class, only to be laughed at.

One of the main things Lochie says that frustrated him in school was that teachers always said that he wasn't trying.  How frustrating would that be?  Trying so hard that your brain hurts and then getting told that you weren't?  What does that do to a young persons self esteem?

It was grade three when Lochie was going through a lot of testing and he also got the coloured glasses.  Mr Daniels printed all Lochie's worksheets on coloured paper because Lochie often "forgot" to wear the glasses because classmates always asked him why they were blue.

There was little point with Lochie attempting to read off the board and Mr Daniels understood that.  Rather than sitting him in front of the board as a constant reminder of the things he couldn't understand, Lochie sat with his back to the board, facing Mr Daniels.  This helped Mr Daniels keep a close eye on when Lochie was getting frustrated and offer help straight away.

As I just re-read what I have already written, it comes across as if Lochie was a favourite.  I dont believe this was the case.  Every kid in that class blossomed that year and it was due to the efforts of a teacher with energy and a passion to bring out the best of everyone.

I have teachers as friends, and they say, "we have 25 students in class, there is no time to focus on one who is having problems?"
I disagree with that.  If teachers put in effort at the begining of the year to really engage and get to know students, it isn't a huge effort to keep track of each one individually.

Lochie and I would like to find Toby Daniels.  He was teaching at Beaconsfield Primary School but only for a few years.  He then went overseas to China to teach English.
If anyone can track him down please pass this blog on.  I really hope he gets to know how much difference the year with him made to Lochie.

Thank you!!

Will my kids be dyslexic?

Lochie has a gorgeous girlfriend.  They have been together since they were 12 and 13.  At 18 and 19, they are now talking long term. 
Lochie's girlfriend, Rebecca, is currently at university studying speech pathology. They are the cutest little couple. 
Lochie came to me quite seriously and asked for a chat. 
"So Mum, Bec wants to have kids one day...", he said.
"Yes, thats pretty much a normal thing", I replied.
"What if my kid is retarded like me?" he asked.

As much as Lochie spends most of his days floating around, working, chatting, smiling, the impact of his dyslexia must still weigh heavily.
We spoke for a while about how dyslexic doesnt make him retarded, his brain just works differently. 

At the end of our discussion, he said "Mum, I understand what you are saying, but, I never want to have kids if they have to go through what I have to". 

I wish that dyslexia was better understood by society.  I wish that Lochie didnt have to be put through being called retarded, especially in the workplace. 

Future aims

Ok so I've been blogging about Lochie's dyslexia for  while and have no idea if anyone reads or not.  For me, it has a way of debriefing some of the trauma I have felt over the past 15 years of Lochie's life.  As a Mum of a dyslexic child, I have felt shame, embarressment, and helplessness at the fact that there was "something" wrong with my child.  I have had people acuse my child of being stupid when in fact, he is highly intelligent.  Lochie has shared with me his feelings of dispair and also about times he has felt he wanted to self harm.  He disclosed to me that he actually did got to the railway line and consider laying on the tracks and waiting for a train to end his suffering at school.

Blogging is ok, but as I said, no idea if anyone reads it.  What I want to do, and Lochie has agreed to work with me, is write a book for parents and children who are suffering from dyslexia.  The book will be both a support and success story, as well as offering some great strategies that we used to get Lochie through those school years.

Dyslexia is a common problem and if you haven't lived it, you dont understand just how hard it can be.  So many successful people are dyslexic.  Richard Branson is one incredible person who has achieved such great successes.  He also admits that perhaps it was the dyslexia that assisted his mind to think outside the box and create solutions that others should have been able to see but didn't.

If you have read my blog and are interested in hearing more, please post a quick comment or email me at tracy@nutsup.com.au and Ill keep you informed on the progress of the book.  If I hear nothing, I will still write but probaby wont publish.  I am so excited that Lochie is going to work with me.  He says even though books make him feel sick to his stomach, he will do it in the hope that other kids wont have to feel so alone as he felt.  If we can stop one child feeling like he would rather lay on railroad tracks than face another day in school, it is worth it.

For me, I'm hoping to offer support to the parents who are supporting dyslexic children.  It is so incredibly hard and the feeling of being a failure and letting your kids down is so intense.  I'm wanting to let you know that you aren't alone and there are things you can learn from Lochie's story that will ease you and your child's suffering at school.

For teachers, please learn more about what these young people go though.  They often do become behaviour issues but they are struggling with so much.   A dyslexic child sometimes has to process 400 times the information as other kids just to read the same word.  They are exhausted, disempowered and feel so anxious and depressed.  Please expand your mind and gain understanding.

Ok so I guess Ill see if I hear from anyone.

Regards,
Tracy and Lochie

And then it was time for high school

To say Lochie wasn't excited about high school was an understatement.  But, he did already have a lot of friends there and was happy to have the opportunity to be back in touch with some older people.  Socially Lochie was a little above people of his age and needed a bit more stimulating conversation. 
His two older brothers were there as well, so he was going into a fairly comfortable environment, except of course, for the classroom. 

The first problem we faced was that learning a second language was compulsory.  Not only did the written words in English seem like a second language to him, but now he was going to have to cope with learning Geman. 

His German teacher was a large German woman.  She was quite loud and very serious about her teaching.  She favoured the high achieving students.  Lochie was not one of them.

To say Lochie had personality would be an understatement.  He was funny, entertaining, popular, good looking and generally liked by everyone.  Everyone except his German teacher.  Even the other teachers who became frustrated at his behaviour still liked him so we could work on that.  But the German teacher...well...she didn't hide the fact that she detested him.

From Lochie's recollection, most days he had German, he ended up sitting on the steps outside the portable.  Not that it bothered him.  He actually planned it.  He knew how to get kicked out and some days it was as simple as smiling at the teacher.  He was quite proud of the fact that one day, while filing into the classroom with the other kids, he smiled at the teacher and she straightaway told him to not bother coming in.  Now you might be thinking it was a creepy smile...no...it was just a smile.  On that particular day, he remembers feeling really happy.  He had just had a chat with his new girlfriend, Bec, and was thinking about footy training that night. 

Being thown out of class before he even got there did little to quash his mood and he began dancing outside the window.  Yes, it was to distract people and get attention.  Naughty Lochie.  Most of the class laughed with him and the teacher came out ready to explode.  Not many things are more amusing than a large German woman with a bright red face waving her arms around in a frenzy.  Needless to say, I was called up to the school. 

Meeting with the welfare coordinator, year level coordinator and German teacher was going to be a good chance for me to explain more about Lochie and hopefully develop a little more understanding from the school.  I was also talking to Lochie about appropriate behaviour and better ways to deal with things too...I'm not one sided.  It is not ok for him to be distracting.

We started with the German teacher standing up at the table expressing her disgust in Lochie with her bright red face and spittle flying across the table.  I patiently waited for her to finish and asked if she had looked at his file.
" No", she replied, "I have many students."
"Are all you students as troublesome as Lochie?" I asked.
"None", she replied.
"So wouldn't it have made sense to have a look if there was a reason for his behaviour".

I explained about his dyslexia and his other occupational therapy issues.  I gave her copies of his reports and evaluations which she turned upside down and didn't even glance over.  I asked if she could understand how hard it would be for a child to learn a new language when he couldn't easily read English. 

"He isn't stupid!", she said.  "He is clever".
"Yes," I agreed, "but dyslexia makes communicating with writing extremely hard".

She had no intention of listening to anymore and demanded the welfare coordinator suspend him. 

The welfare coordinator had a little more idea of what was going on.  He suggested that Lochie do his assessment orally.  She said no. 

After much back and forthing, I simply said that he was to be taken out of German class. 

The German teacher was horrified!   "This cuts down his chances of having a career!  What if he wants to go to Germany when he is older?  So many things you are taking away from him." 

So, as the terrible mother I am, I persisted and now have cut down his ability to go to uni and become a German teacher.  Oh well.  I guess if he ever does decide to visit Germany, he will need an translator, or manage to communicate without speaking German. 

The teacher just didn't get it.  So caught up in her own world that her country was so extremely special that everyone should visit and that nobody could possibly have any successful career without having a language to help them get into uni course.  She didn't understand that I had a child suffering anxiety and that had to be the highest level of concern.  Until the anxiety was reduced, Lochie would never thrive. 

Many teachers just dont understand.  University isn't the aim of every person.  Nor do I believe that people with higher education are of higher value than anyone else.  Many people I hold in high regard have never been to university, but they make a valuable contribution to society and make the world a better place. 

High school continued to be a struggle for Lochie and over the next year, he spoke openly about suicide.  Something that chills any mother to the core. 

My next blog will tell the story of Lochies struggle with his inner demons.

Maybe you need to rebirth him?

Lochie's frustrations at school increased over the last few years at Primary School.  I remember his grade 5 teacher calling me in for a chat. 
"he just can't sit still", she said.
"yes, the occupational therapist told me he has to move in order to stimulate his brain to learn and remember so no, he doesn't sit still", I told her.  It was all in his file, I wish I didnt have to continue to have the same conversation over and over.
"And you used to take him to babyshows?",  she asked.
"yes", geez where was this going?
She wasn't backward in saying what she thought.  "So, do you think that the babyshows was what caused all his problems?".
"No"
"Seems like he really hasn't developed like the other kids.  Have you considered rebirthing?"

What the?  Well I hadn't expected that one.  She then explained that there was a program for kids with behaviour or learning problems called Rebirthing.  The whole set up seemed pretty weird.  Lochie was ten at the time.  She explained it to me.  The child is covered with warm wet blankets and the mum puts pressure on the blanket so he feels like he is in a womb. Then the mother proceeds, with the help of the program facilitator, to "give birth" to the child as he tries to wriggle out the blanket whilst the mum and the facilitator press down on the blanket so it's hard for him.  The mum has to do all the breathing, and noises of pushing as the child emerges from the blanket as if he is being born again.  Apparently it all ends with the child feeling like he has a new begining of life and comes out without learning disability or behaiour issues. 

It may surprise you to hear, but I didn't take her advice.  Lochie wasn't in need of that, and I was more concerned about the damage that may cause.

Taking Lochie to school on his first day of grade six was traumatic.  He was ok until we tuned into the street. He broke down and sobbed.  He couldnt stop crying.  My normally happy, smiley little boy was in extreme distress.  I drove past the school and pulled over. 

"I can't do it Mum, Ill never be able to do grade six.  It's too hard.  Everyone else can do the work except for me."  I'd never seen him this upset. 

We drove home and he missed that first day.  We did a lot of talking, and preparing for the next day and he went off ok.  I was sick with stress, and obviously he was too, but better at hiding it.  I did wonder how he would survive the year.  What would happen the next year at high school? 


Lochie's nanna was a retired teacher.  He was lucky that she came up three days per week to help him get his literacy up to where it needed to be.  He loved the time with her and I think it really was good for her too.   A retired teacher needs to teach.  She loved it.

Her work wasn't in vain.  Lochie ended up doing his testing for high school and not qualifying for an aide.  So off he went to high school.   If we think we had trouble in primary school...I had no idea what I was in for at high school.

The Testing begins

The trip to the Dyslexia Centre was interesting.  The lady knew a lot about the difficulties Lochie was having.  She did a lot of tests on him including an IQ test which showed that he had extremely high IQ.

The testing too, a whole day and Lochie and I were exhausted at the end of it.  I paid the $800 and was told that the results would be posted to me in the next week.

The results arrived.  Two pages stating that Lochie was advanced socially, emotionally and had very high intelligence.  He was classified "severe dyslexic" on her scale.  I searched through the repoort again.  There was nothing in there that indicated any actions I or the school needed to take. 

I phoned the lady.  She said that she could only diagnose dyslexia, not fix it.  Fantastic, so now I had a child who was labelled, and apparently, unfixable.  

I began researching dyslexia.  The only information I found was about how difficult it was to diagnose properly as most children who had trouble reading, were diagnosed as dyslexic. 

Lochie was due to go into grade 2.  His teacher recommended he repeat, but the Principal said there is no point Lochie repeating because he would never "get it".  I decided to take Lochie to a new school.

I found Beaconsfield Primary.  There was nearly 1000 kids at his old school, and Beaconsfield only had 180 students.  I spoke at length to the Principal who was very understanding.  She suggested puting Lochie in a composite class where he would get the social interraction from the older kids but could do the work of the lower level.   I left feeling confident that Lochie would have the support he needed at Beaconsfield.

Lochie and his brothers all settled in quickly to the new school.  It was a well run school with a country feel.  After the first week, Lochies teacher asked if I would mind if she referred him for testing.  I agreed, but told her about the Dyxlexia Centre report.  She assured me that it was nothing like that so I signed the form and he was assessed the next week. 

Again, the scores came back that he was advanced in all ways except the ability to read and write.  The school immediately organised for occupational therapy sessions. 

The Occupational Therapist explained a lot about Lochie's condition which was extremely helpful to me.  She asked if Lochie crawled.  I explained about his colic and how he couldn't be left on the ground. She said that many of the kids she sees with learning disorders never crawled.  There are vital brain development processes that are stimulated by crawling.  Many dyslexic kids are also colic babies.  There is no clear research as to whether the dyslexia is caused by the lack of brain development, but it certainly seems to be a trend. 

The sessions consisted of Lochie working on letters.  We made letters in sand, with giant rope, with all different sensory things.  He jumped on a mini trampoline, then climbed ladders, then made the letters again. He couldn't do the same letter five minutes after he had just done it.  He had no recollection of what it looked like. 

Games with balls, and other tests on motor skills showed that Lochie had no preference for his left or right hand.  He also couldn't move one finger without the matching finger on the other hand moving in the same way.  As lovely as the therapist was, Lochie was now 8 years old and begining to work out that he was different to the other kids. 

Lochie began getting depessed from about grade 3.  His love was his football.  As one of the stars on  the team, they went through year after year as virtually undefeated.  Lochie was small, but an absolute gun on the field.  He had a lot of friends in football, school and the area in general, but he started hating school with a passion.   

Many mornings, he would lay in bed complaining of headaches or tummy aches.  As much as I knew it was stress related, I couldn't send him on those days.   Those days got closer and closer.  His grade three teacher suggested I take him to another centre.   This one cost me over $2000 and ended up with similar results.  Very clever kid, just wasn't wired right.  They gave him coloured glasses because reading black letters on white is the hardest to see, so he had blue tinged glasses. 

In this test Lochie said that when he looks at a page of writing he sees black wriggly lines (the words) and white rivers. I didn't understand that until he showed me.  He traced his little finger down the page gliding between the words in patterns that did look like water running down a window on a rainy day.  It was explained to me that when Lochie looks at a word, the letters are different each time, sometimes turning around, sometimes backwards, upsidedown, so his mind has to go through up to 400 processes to read one 3 letter word.  No wonder he was always tired. 

The glasses didn't help.  Having a tolerant teacher helped a bit, but Lochie would often come home crying with frustration that he couldn't do the work and felt stupid. 

The feeling of frustration didn't change through grade 4, 5 and 6.  He had a private tutor each day to help him through maths and english and was doing ok but it was still much harder for him than other kids. 

Although Lochie's teachers knew about his problem, the Emergency Teachers rarely did.  When they took over for the day, they were frustrated with a little boy who seemed clever, who refused to do any work.  One day it hit a point where the Releaving teacher told Lochie to stop being silly and do the worksheet.  Lochie threw a chair and a few other things and took off.  This was the start of his behaviour issues at school...

Maybe he just isn't bright

The first day of school, Lochie was bouncing out of his skin!  To finally be able to go with is brothers to this magical place of play equipment and friendly teachers and soooooo many kids to play with. 

He bounced into the room with barely a glance back.  Most of the kids knew him from sport or riding his bike with his brothers.  He also had been coming to drop off and pick up his brothers every day for the past 4 years too.  His teacher was a first year teacher and didn't openly favour him, but she obviously really liked him.  Full of confidence, I watched as he ran around, talking to everyone then off I went for my first day alone without him. 

The first couple of weeks went smoothly.  There were never any issues  with fights, or hating the teacher.  He was an extremely happy child.  As the year went on, he still managed to keep up with the colour in sheets, and other basic prep work.  He managed the readers.  Each day, a small group would read through a reader together and then they were expected to take the reader home and read it with a parent.  Lochie never faltered reading the reader.  I thought he was reading well. 

At the end of the year, Lochie had managed to pass all assessments and progressed to Grade 1.  His teacher was an older lady, with plenty of experience.  She didn't laugh when he was cheeky - she told him to settle down.  Loc wasn't as pleased with this one, but I was. 

After a few months, she asked to see me.  She had discovered that although Lochie did a great job of "reading" in the group, he actually had only memorised the book.  When she would ask him to point out a word, he had no idea.  He memorised every reader in the room and could recite them easily.  She also pointed out that he couldn't cut out things from paper.  She asked would I mind if she requested that the school get him assessed.  I said that was fine. 

On the way home from school one day, he said, "Mum, what does twenty four look like?".
"It has a two and then a four".  Hm, he though on that for a minute.
"Mum", he said, "is the two the one with the wiggly lines?" 
I looked at him.  He had no idea what a two or four looked like and he had been to school for a year and a half.  Thank goodness they were getting him tested.


The next week, the teacher called me in again.  The school had refused to get him tested as they didn't believe he had a problem.  She suggested I make an appointment with the Principal and trying to push it.  I made the appointment. 

I sat in the Principals office.  She looked down her nose at me.  "Goodness", she said, "you must have been so young when you had the boys".
"Yes," I said, "I had Lochie, my last one, when I was 23".
"Hmm" she said, looking at the papers from what I guessed was his file. "What is it that you want?"
"Well, I was hoping that we could arrange for Lochie to have some testing done.  He seems extremely clever verbally, but just can't do anything on paper.  He can't read, or write or even recognise numbers.  I'm really concerned".
She closed the file.  "Well, Tracy, it's not like your other children are Einstein.  They are average.  Maybe Lochie just isn't bright.  I don't think the school should spend the money on testing when I think he maybe just isn't all there".

I turned red.  If anyone said something like that to me now I'd bite their heads off, but I was a young mum and felt a little inadequate in front of this professional lady.  I thanked her then left. 

I rang my Mum in tears.  Mum used to be a teacher and couldn't believe the attitude of the Principal.  We researched and found a place called the Dyslexia Centre.  It was very expensive, but they said they could do a full assessment.  At least then I would know what I needed to be doing to help my son. 

Kindergarten....all ok....

Lochie went from being an adorable one year old, to my constant shadow until he went to kindergarten.  With two older brothers, Lochie was outgoing, friendly and tough.  He had no attachment to a blanket, dummy, toy or anything....welll, nothing except needing to constantly be holding my hair and rubbing it on his face. 
We had been through a tough time that first year, and had survived. 
When his brothers were at school, we spent our time visiting friends, going to babyshows, going roller skating with his cousin James and spending time with his nanna.  It was a  lovely time and there was never an inkling that anything may not be totally perfect.
He was small for his age and very cute.  Extremely good at any ball sport he played, particularly soccer and football, facing each situation with a fierce determination to win. 
Unlike most other kids, he enjoyed watching documentaries of history, animals, places, anything really.  He liked some cartoons, but got bored quickly of shows that usually kept kids entertained for hours like Sesame Street. 
One day, my eldest son, Trent was doing some practice for a quiz and I asked him the question "Who was the first man on the moon?"
Lochie come flying out of the next room and said "Stretch Armstrong!"  We laughed but the answer was pretty close considering he was only 4.  I began thinking I had a gifted child after that when he answered all the Grade 2 quiz questions correctly. 

At last it was time for Lochie to go to kinder.  I had to get him a specially made uniform because he was so tiny.  His outgoing personality and gorgeous looks made him a popular member of the group with teachers and other kids.  His self-esteem grew.  He was one of the best in his soccer team, and the most popular kid at kinder.  He was a really happy little boy with a huge smile. 

One day, when I was the Kinder Duty Mum, I noticed that Lochie was struggling whilst trying to cut out a shape from paper.  He was really handling the scissors awkwardly.  The Helper was assisting him but he was holding the scissors still and trying to manove the paper around....I cant really explain it but it certainly looked awkward.  He switched hands and it still didnt work.  In the end, Lochie screwed up the paper and went outside.  He looked really unhappy.  The thing he was cutting out was to make a special card for Grandparents day the following week. 

I spoke to him on the way home.  He cried and said that it was too hard he couldn't do it.  I explained that sometimes things aren't easy and we have to try again and again and practice to make it work.  He said, "I just couldn't do it".  

I spoke to the Kinder Teacher the following day. She said that Lochie avoids painting, drawing or cutting usually but he really wanted to make the special thing for his Nanna.  She said that it wasn't an issue or anything, but Lochie also couldnt write his name and that was a little behind the other kids.  Hm, I thought.  Odd because he was so quick at everything else, but, oh well, you can't be good at everything. 

At the end of the kinder year, Lochie's teacher said that he would benefit from repeating the year because he was a little behind with writing and cutting etc.  But, due to his advanced social skills, this would impact dramatically on his self esteem so he happily progressed off to school with all of his friends. 

When I remember that year, I almost get tears.  The first few years were full of happy times, no stress, just fun.  All the boys played together well, they are all best mates.  None of them had any worries. 

The next year, when Lochie started school, all his troubles began.

It all began...

Lochie was born when I was 23.  He was my third child, all boys.  It was a difficult birth, and when the midwife put the squirming little screaming bundle into my arms, I waited for the moment when he would look up at me and stop crying, happy to be in his mothers arms.  I had that moment with his brothers.  When they were handed to me, the screams stopped and they looked up at me. Happy to have been brought into the world. 
Lochie, was another story.  He didn't stop screaming.  I looked helplessly at the midwife, who looked at my husband.  The only thing anyone could say was "wow, he certainly has great lungs because that is one loud scream".

Born only 3 days late, and weighing 7 pound 14 ounces, Lochie wasn't the cutest of babies.  He was very skinny.  The doctor put it down to the fact that I had been quite ill in the last two months of pregnancy and he had not put on the fat that babies usually do.  It was hard to really see what he looked like because it was so rare for him not to be crying at the top of his lungs.  Feeding was difficult because it was hard to try to force him to drink between screams.  But, the midwives weren't concerned and bundled me off home after one day. 

Before I had Lochie, I was loaded with confidence.  My first two children, Trent and Haydn were very good looking and had been extremely easy babies. They ate when they were supposed to, slept through the night.   I thought it was because I was an amazing mum and must have done everything right.  Wow, I found out pretty quick that perhaps I had been lucky with them.  Loc just didn't tow the same line.

After many attempts, I found that holding Lochie across my arm on his tummy seemed to settle him long enough to have a short sleep.  Unfortunately, I could only hold him in this position if I was standing.  If I sat, or tried to lay down with him, he would start up the screaming again.  After 6 weeks, I was a zombie. 

My family were happy to mind the other two boys but nobody would take Lochie, not even for an hour.  He was my screaming little bundle and I'm not sure I know how I managed to survive the year.  I knew he only screamed because he had colic but geez the noise was terrible.  I felt so sorry for my little Loc and bought and did anything that was suggested but nothing worked. 

Yes, it was a whole year before he stopped screaming.  He could never be left on the ground because his screams were so intense, so Bubby Loc never learned to crawl.  On his first birthday, his uncle came over the held his hands and made him walk.  From then, he was happy.  The doctors said that maybe walking straightened out his intestines and relieved the colic.  It doesn't really matter because I had a toddler with an angel face and disposition to match.

Lochie and I, it seemed, had overcome a huge obstacle.  We survived an entire year of colic.   Little did we know that the biggest obstacle was to come.