Last Days

Oh lordy, but we are struggling through these last days. It seems an insult to have to carry on with regular school activities for one kid when two have been on their summer break for eleven days. My brain is totally not on reports, Open House, report cards, morning routines, nor on signing field trip/dance permission slips. This momma has checked out, and I do apologize to Little Man’s teachers and team.

He is having a rough go. They had a field trip yesterday. He wouldn’t say what happened, just that it was “horrible.” That may mean one small thing went awry, or it may mean he had a full-blown meltdown. Who knows, and I’m afraid to ask. There’s a dance at school Friday  night for the 5th-7th graders. We haven’t even discussed it. I have to keep reminding myself his Open House is Thursday night (can I send a surrogate, or would that be frowned upon?). I got an email from his SAI earlier today he has completely pushed back on being in the classroom for the 7th grade health class. While I feel the curriculum is important, appropriate, and not beyond his abilities/understanding, I don’t have it in me to fight him right now, nor deal with the fallout of pushing his boundaries. We’re both toast. My response to her was I was fine with him sitting this one out.

His anxiety is elevated. He’s done. He wants nothing to do with getting out the door in the morning. He has asked daily to take his plushy  to school (I’m still saying no to that one). He’s forgetting necessary items. He’s basically pushing back on almost everything. While I know he will have another adjustment period once summer does start for him, we are both so ready to be through this process of the end of the school year.

I looked back through my end-of-year posts through Timehop on my phone. So many of them reiterate this feeling – he’s over it, he’s stressed, he’s anxious, he’s ready to be done but he’s also afraid of the change of routine/lack of routine that comes with summer. No matter how much he matures and grows, change in routine and structure is an achilles heel for him, and it likely always will be. His tool box is forgotten by this point, and we all just hang on for the ride. It’s a bit brutal, and these are the days I would do anything to make this all right and better for him. This is when I raise a certain finger to autism, because it makes days that should be full of fun and excitement stressful and anxiety-ridden. Add to that fact his siblings are swimming, hanging out with friends, sleeping in and enjoying summer while he sits in a classroom, and you have a boy (and a momma) who is just over it. #bringonsummer

He has it managed

This morning, I saw another sign Little Man is in a good place once again. Whew, right?

Last night before he went to bed, I saw him grab his old soccer bag. In it, he put a clipboard and a pencil. I thought nothing of it. He does stuff like this every once in awhile. He’ll get something in his head and won’t let it go. We’ve learned to choose our battles and this was definitely not something I was worried about. Curious? Yes indeed-y. But not at all phased by it.

This morning, I only had to prod him twice to get him out of bed and into the bath. He woke up in a good mood, which doesn’t happen often, but again, I wasn’t phased by it. Sometimes, you just don’t question, you roll with it when it’s good. When it was time to go, I didn’t have to tell him three times to put the iPad down and get his things together. He responded the first time, and with a smile (and his soccer bag AND backpack), he walked out the door.

We were sitting in the drop-off line when it hit me….He has a field trip today….A field trip I am not chaperoning….A field trip for which he will have to ride the bus with 30 yelling fourth graders. I immediately went into panic and damage-control mode. I reminded him to take his headphones. He nodded his head.  I told him to try to sit with his teacher or one of his buddies. He nodded his head. I reminded him of his calming techniques should things start to go sideways. He looked at me and said, “Mom, I got this.” And so he does. (That’s not to say I still won’t be somewhat frazzled until I have him in my car this afternoon and know that everything went well)