I keep asking myself this question. What are we going to do when this school year is over, and we have to leave behind this safe place that has taken such good care of all of my babies? How will we ever find another group of teachers and staff who will just love my children? The older two kiddos – they’re pretty easy to love (most of the time, when they’re not being typical teenagers). They’re funny. They entertain. They’re smart. They communicate easily. They get along well with people. They don’t carry around a huge, fluorescent stuffed shark wherever they go. They don’t slap their hands over their ears and go into fetal position when it all gets to be too much. They don’t grow, or hiss, or lash out. They don’t cry in the middle of class. They eat lunch at the lunch tables with all the other kids, rather than in a quiet MPR or classroom. My baby isn’t easy to love, and yet where we are, he is loved. He is well taken care of. What are we going to do when this year is over, and he must move on to middle school? Big, overwhelming, middle school?
Little Man’s resource teacher emailed me last Thursday. She wanted to know if we had time for a meet and greet with Little Man’s fifth grade teacher. Why, yes, of course we would like that. We would love that. Anxiety levels are much lower when he’s not going in blind the first day of school. So, bright and early this morning, we drove over to school. It was like a homecoming. We went to his new classroom, and walked in to meet his smiling teacher. We saw where his desk will be, and that one of his best helper buddies sits right next to him. He was able to look around the walls, talk with teacher, and get a little comfortable before tomorrow comes. His resource teacher came in as well to help ease the way. We gave his teacher a letter with Fifteen Things to Know About Me, hoping to give a little insight in navigating life with Little Man.
We stopped in the office on our way out to drop his asthma meds off with the nurse. Hugs all around, including Little Man. And the principal was happy to see him, even engaged him in a short conversation. Then his second/third grade teacher came in. He ran to give her a big hug. I stood there and chatted with staff and teachers. This is home. This place is safe. We are cared for here. We are comfortable. What are we going to do when this year is over and we have to say goodbye?