Guest blogger Andrea: Handling transitions is as hard for me as it is for my kid.

This year Zion is attending a school that offers a creative programming option he needs. As a family we struggled for weeks over this decision. It meant Zion and his sister, Maya, would go to different schools for the first time. Although we know most of the staff at the school, we weren't sure how Zion would handle the transition. Transitions have historically been tough for him and everyone around him.

Still, we felt we had little choice. Since first grade we have been providing Zion with variations of the same program. We adjusted the curriculum, teaching strategies, methodologies, and special education minutes, but Zion's academic progress remained minimal.

Last year I became so discouraged with Zion's lack of progress I asked the school district to reevaluate Zion. By law a reevaluation has to be done every three years, but I knew a parent could ask for it any time. I knew Zion's first evaluation was done before his diagnosis and didn't accurately reflect what we know about the impact seizures had on his executive functions. I was frustrated his IEP didn't begin to address Zion's impulsive behavior, processing issues, or long- and short-term memory problems. I felt Zion was shortchanged in his education because his IEP didn't give him what he needed.

When the reevaluation was complete I asked the school psychologist who performed the evaluation to e-mail me a copy of the results. I wanted to go over the data and prepare for the upcoming IEP meeting. Instead, I cried over the 16 pages of test results that showed in black and white just how far behind Zion is. The evaluation showed Zion seriously delayed in every area except language. In that area he demonstrated knowledge and understanding of a child several grades higher.

I couldn't focus on that one piece of good news. I needed to ensure Zion's academic program addressed the large gaps his evaluation uncovered. Immediately we rewrote Zion's IEP to provide the additional academic, behavioral, social/emotional, and motor support he needed.

I hate IEP meetings. I am a smart, confident advocate for my child, but sitting at that table setting goals for my child is almost more than I can bear. I try not to cry when the reading and writing goals set for Zion mean that a year from now, he will have made enough progress to only be two years behind. I know how smart my little boy is and I wish he could demonstrate that. But nobody talks about multiple intelligences. In education, there's only one intelligence that counts.

I have to breathe deep because on many levels I still haven't accepted that Zion has a disability I just can't fix. I cringe when I hear the words "special needs." I don't want my son to have special needs. I want him to be normal.