Back to School

My kids head back to school next week.  Now that the supplies have been purchased and the calendar is marked, I find myself thinking back.  Remembering five years ago, the battery of tests (and isn't that a great phrase? because I remember feeling quite battered by the time it was all over) our son went through just before his third birthday.  All the forms and interviews and professionals that we visited, all pointing to one thing...an Autism Spectrum Disorder.  Although I remained unconvinced, desperately trying to find the reason why my son fit into the autism category when what going on with him had to be something else, anything else, something that we could fix in a day or a month or a year but not this word, this lifelong label.  Knowing that if his brain was different that it wouldn't be a quick fix and back to life as usual, but years of IEP meetings and speech therapy and adapting, because doctors can fix broken bones and teachers can make children literate and parents can give their children love and nutritious food and a safe home but no one can change a person's brain.  So I listened to the experts and held firm to my belief that I could figure this out, I could solve the mystery of what was going on inside my child.  In the meantime, I would follow the advice that everyone seemed to agree upon: enroll James in an early intervention preschool and begin speech therapy.

Preschool Graduation

I remember visiting the preschool, meeting the teacher who would have James in her class for two years, and I remember so vividly the fear.  My son was essentially non-verbal, and they wanted me to drop him off with these people for three hours a day.  How would I know what was happening to him for that period of time?  There was no way he would be able to tell me.  And they said they never physically disciplined children or locked them in closets or left them unsupervised, but of course they said that because it's illegal.  But the reason why we have laws against those things is because they have happened in the past, and what's to stop a preschool teacher from going power mad in a room of 3 and 4 year olds with developmental disabilities and sketchy communication skills?  I lived with this anxiety for a few weeks, as we prepared our son for school and more so after we dropped him off the first day.  What it basically came down to is a lack of trust.  I know how much I love my child, how powerful the desire to nurture and protect him is.  But I didn't believe that anyone else would feel the same way when they looked into his big hazel eyes and held his chubby little hand.

They might save the world, but today their mission is CANDY!

I still don't know how that year went for him.  I have no idea what he thought of school, how he was treated by the staff and the other children, what he learned and what he wished was different.  All I know is that he kept going.  That he quickly stopped crying when I brought him to the door to drop him off and that he smiled when I came to pick him up.  That the boys in his class called him "Little Screamer" and attempted to hoot and squeal with him, thinking that was his primary language (in a way, it was).  That he frequently hugged his teacher and occasionally brought home art projects that he had made with assistance.  That his teacher did a unit on the story books of Mo Willems because James loved the Pigeon books and Knuffle Bunny.

It continues to be a guide to me, watching my son for signs of happiness or distress.  It is the best indicator of how he is being treated when I'm not around, if the time has come to withdraw from a place or activity or if it is okay to continue.  I know he loves his swim lessons, because we passed the exit recently and he told me to turn around and go back.  I know he had a good time at VBS because I came to pick him up and he was dancing to the music (Let me pause here and say that beyond the baby booty shaking to Elmo songs, James does not dance. Ever.)  I know he has found a good friend in Ian because he gets excited when he comes over and willingly shares video games with him.  I know he is surrounded by caring adults at church because he hugs them and sits with them and remembers their names.

And then, this summer, he shocked me by doing something new.  We spent the fourth of July on a riverboat cruise of Pittsburgh, which the kids LOVED because it was water and boats and they drank Sprite and it really doesn't take more than that to delight them.  We were on a walk later and James turned to me and asked, "Mommy, did you like the boat ride?"  I felt like kneeling and kissing the ground, or picking him up and twirling like Maria in "The Sound of Music".  It was a huge development, and it's something he's never done before.  But I kept my mom cool and I answered his question and then asked if he liked it.  He responded and there we were having an actual conversation about what we did that day.  It happened again a few weeks later on a more mundane summer day, but we talked back and forth about what we liked and what we did and I got to hear in words how my son feels.

First day of 2nd Grade

My kids head back to school next week.  Now that the supplies have been purchased and the calendar is marked, I find myself thinking ahead.  What will James experience this year?  How much will he be able to tell me about afterwards?  Yes, his brain is different, and our lives involve IEP meetings and speech therapy and adapting, and there is no way to change a person's brain.  But this kid is surrounded by people who love him and help him learn and protect him.  And there is no limit to what he will do.