Little Man seems to have (blessedly) settled down at school. Well, at least the phone calls have minimized, outside of the call from the nurse last week to bring him some ibuprofen for a headache. He’s giving decent reports most days, although what that really means in his vocabulary is likely different than my perspective. I pray he’s doing better. He seems to be doing better. We are almost three months into the school year. Please God let the worst of the transition be done.
Here’s the thing though…I still have my phone in my hand most of the school day. I feel twitchy until I pick him up. And pick up time brings its own kind of anxiety, waiting to see the look on his face, the looks on the teachers’ faces, his posture, his verbal responses. I dread it each day. We’ve lived this before.
I won’t let myself get comfortable in this seemingly “good” place for him. I’m too battle-scarred. I know how quickly it can all go to hell again. I know he likely still needs more help than I’m getting him. His team, God bless them, have been amazing with him, so patient, determined, caring. But I’m afraid to breath over here. I’m afraid to let my guard down. That sucks.
Last year was so good for him. I relaxed. And that was awesome. I want that again. I need that again. He needs that again. I believe we will get there. I just know how long and what it took to reach that place. I’m afraid to believe we might be there.
I’ll state it again and again…..I fully believe his current school is the absolute best place for him. The way they teach, the things they teach outside of the standards….he desperately needs it. Collaborative work means work on his social skills. Design thinking means he learns failing isn’t failure, but rather an opportunity to learn. A focus on community and communication expands his world outside of himself. Creative work encourages that part of him that we love so much. All this is done in a small, caring, encouraging environment.
And yet, I’m still not ready to let myself get comfortable here where we seem to be right now. I want to be, goodness knows I want to be. I think I need a couple months of good to recover from the hell that was the first six weeks of school. Some wounds will only scar over. Some, you can recover from. We’re not there yet. But we’re working on it.