Pieceful Resistance

Today I long for the days before the spitting. Rooster has never complied, but he used to subscribe more to a more passive resistance.

When the rooster had his IEP with the first school district, right after his third birthday, he charmed them. They wrote up a glowing report about how this child needed no services, despite the fact that they noted delays across the board. They even seemed to enjoy his noncompliance. I think this example typifies the rooster's agenda of control:

One of the five members of the IEP team comes over to me. "He just refuses to do the puzzle activity, and we really would like very much to have him do it. Do you have any strategies that might get him to do it?" This actually makes me laugh before I realize that I'm not being appropriate, and try to turn it into a cough. They try another approach. "Does he have any high interest subjects, so that I might find a puzzle of something he likes? Does he like sports?" So I tell them animals. One woman disappears for a couple of minutes and comes back with a box.

"Rooster!" she exclaims. "Look what I have! I have a puzzle of HORSES! Do you like horses?" The rooster nods like a bobblehead. He watches intently as the woman puts together part of the horse puzzle. Then he scrutinizes her face, which, funnily enough, has an expression he has always loved to label, "Puzzled!" Looking at her, he puts his hand on his chin and rubs, just as he always does when he does "puzzled" face. She turns to reel him in. "Do you know where the horse's head goes?" The rooster nods. "You do?" More nodding. "Oh, good! Can you show me where the horse's head goes?" The rooster takes the puzzle piece from her hand. In a louder voice than he's used so far this day, he enunciates, "The horses head goes BACK IN THE BOX." And the puzzles were, as he liked to say, "All done!"