Monday, August 26, 2013

First Day of School

First Day of School showed up today with rain, cool temps, and did I mention it's Monday?  Seems to me there ought to be a law against starting anything important on a Monday. 

As a mother of a special needs teenager, I expect some difficulty on the first day, first week, first month.............semester.  All the usual prep and planning went into pulling today's "first day back" off without a hitch.  The hitch came anyway!  I blame this on the fact that it is Monday. 

I am told that my son is not capable of "anticipating" activities, or "worrying" or "fretting" about upcoming events because he doesn't understand.  The important factor here is that this is what I am "told", but not at all what I "believe".  He tossed and turned and hardly slept more than about 3 hours last night so once again, the coffee pot was my best friend this morning.  My husband and I took turns making 2 or 3 (ok 4 or 5) pots between 6 a.m. and 8 a.m.  Really, why use a cup?  Just sip it right out of the decanter!  Better yet, just get a spoon and eat the grounds right out of the can. 

The drive to school showed signs of promise with absolutely no attempts at leaving the confines of his seat belt or proper position in the vehicle.  No real signs of trouble here except for that all to calm and still sullen state that seemed to scream silently "Mom, how could you do this to me?" as we drove into the school parking lot.  This is when the adventure began, but not with my son.  The staff never answered my requests last week regarding which door my son was to enter through this school year so here we sat watching both doors on opposite sides of the parking lot looking much like tennis match spectators with our little caffeinated heads snapping back and forth left to right.  Finally, since no staff appeared after 15 minutes, we text the teacher and say "which door was decided on?".  Another 5 minutes pass and she finally answers but only after my son has decided we have been sitting to long and has laid down on the back seat and settled into the too familiar passive resistance position with perfect "plank" form.

All was not lost and he willingly got out of the vehicle and walked into the school with his Dad and I offering encouragement all the way in.  Two steps into the door and there they are; the classroom teacher and the specialist excited and talking non-stop with all the normal first day topics.  My son heard this and made and about face to head back out the door.  I realized that I would again be hated this year as I reminded them both in a whisper that maybe we could all wait to talk to one another inside the classroom after he was situated.  This was met with looks of astonishment and disapproval, but they complied and off we went to the room. 

Next we got to the classroom door, went through successfully but apprehensively and walked to the desk where my son is assigned to sit.  This is when the same specialist that was just reminded to "give him a few minutes"  begins the bombardment of physically introducing all of the new students to my son immediately after he has gotten seated.  Now, since my son cannot see, naturally she wanted to introduce him by walking him to each student.  Sure!  Great idea!  But did we not just discuss giving him a minute to adjust?  Apparently, when walking into the classroom I passed through a force field that removed all ability to make audible noise come from my mouth because clearly these people did not hear a word I said.  My son took these introductions to the new students as a signal to exit this portion of the classroom and head to the other room to his quiet swing.  Immediately following behind him chatting all the way was the specialist and a classroom aide. When asked why my son was shrugging his shoulders, turning his head away, and beginning to bite his hand, I just answered "give him some time, it's the first day".  What I wanted to say was "because you're annoying the crap out of him and he's trying to decide how to escape your non stop verbal vomit". 

I left the school knowing that a phone call will happen later today. On the other end of the line will be a panic stricken teacher that just doesn't understand why the meltdowns began asking if I can come pick him up right away.  My answer will be "I'm on my way".  What I wish my answer could be is "I told you so asshole!"

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