Elias's first few days of school

"Did I use to ride the short bus at Northwood?" Elias asks as we lay in bed snuggling before night night.

It's the first time I've heard him call it the short bus, instead of the little bus,  and my bully-radar sounds it's heart pounding siren.

"Yes, you did." We lay face to face, arms entwined, under not one but six blankets so his tactile-seeking body can feel weighted down under layers of cotton and down and fleece, like a giant fabric hug.

"Why?" Elias asks.

Gulp.

"Because we didn't live close enough to walk," I say at first, and then in case he's asking a deeper question, "And because the short bus is for kids who need a little more help."

"But now we can walk," he says and puts his cheek on mine.

**********

I didn't mean to leave you hanging after my post on the eve of Elias's first day of school. I planned on writing that night, but fell asleep in bed with Olive after she threw up all over me with a temperature of 103.

That's parenthood for ya.

It's probably good that I didn't write, as my heart broke multiple times on Tuesday, as Elias entered first grade at Airport Heights. Who knew it would be so hard?

I hid in my office as Elias cried in the hallway--I want to see my Mommy!--and trusted my colleagues to either calm him down or make the decision to let him see me. At around 9:30 he came running to my office wanting to go home. All and all it took 45 minutes to get him to his classroom and once there he cried at the door and tried to push his way out multiple times.

The constant refrain all morning from his teachers and aides was that he would see me at recess and so when a 6th grade girl came to talk to me ten minutes before the first grade recess I told her, "I got about 8 minutes tops."

By the time I walked out to the familiar playground he was all smiles. 

When the students lined up for lunch, all wide-eyed and wiggly, the bigger boy behind Elias leaned towards  him and said, "Do you still want to go home and see your mommy." Not an ounce of kindness in his tone.

"He's fine; he's happy to be here at school," I said to the boy who didn't yet know I was Elias's mother.

The part of me who is not a student counselor thought: I got your number kid!

"You better walk quickly so I'm not late for my lunch," the boy said to Elias, who acted as if he didn't hear-- but I know my boy, he hears everything.

And oh, the Grizzly Bear Mama in me wanted to sweep my son away; but all I could say was: We do not threaten students at Airport Heights.

Breathe, Christy, breathe.

And then the call came that Olive had a fever. And I had to choose between my babies.

All I wanted to do was walk to her daycare, scoop Olive up and sniff her innocent baby head-- but I opted to stay at school with Elias and let Nick get Olive. Even though I was hiding from Elias when I saw him in the hallway and not letting him come to my office, I made the call that he needed me present more than my eight-month old daughter. She could wait, I thought, even though I felt ripped down the middle, splayed in half, wearing the mask of a professional as my heart splintered in two.

Elias's afternoon went better, no tears, no attempts to flee, but the part of me who has always been a social animal couldn't help wondering what the other children thought of my child.

And seeing him in school, in a regular classroom, makes his differences shine in a way I usually don't notice when its just our quirky family of four. He can't blend in and I'm realizing, he never will.

And sure, maybe I should know this by now, but sometimes it still hits me in the gut and I'm the one caught crippled and exposed. My son is different. He's disabled, handicapped. A boy with special needs.

Duh?

But when you focus on strengths and gifts, after awhile you stop seeing the gaps. When you celebrate every tiny milestone, you spend your life applauding instead of racing and then suddenly your boy is in first grade with all these kids who move and talk and see and breathe with ease.

And you can't breathe.

"What was the hardest thing about school today?" Nick and I asked Elias that night as we sat at the kitchen table.

"Getting use to it," he replied.

Well said! I wanted to say, as I too will need to get use to witnessing Elias in school.

On Wednesday, his second day, his lip quivered, and tears gathered, but he made it to class without my help and never once tried to flee.

I ran into him by accident towards the end of the day, I walked around the corner and there he stood, with his trademark canes, his aide by his side. "I know you," I said.

"I thought I was going to Camp Fire," Elias responded, referring to the after school program on campus.

"You are Bud, I was just on my way to talk to the PE teacher."

"Camp Fire, I love Camp Fire," Elias said, leaving me in the hallway, pounds lighter.

And I'd like to end here.

And not tell you that he cried and pushed and screamed when I dropped him at Campfire this morning for our 8:00 staff meeting. I'd like to say he walked to class easily and happily when the first bell rang.

But I guess "getting use to it" will take more than a day.

For both of us.

Comments

[K. Jordan]

Hugs...love you guys

[Danielle]

Hang in there. My guess: It will probably take 2 weeks for him begin going in without any tears on a consistent basis.
As for the TOADS who are being nasty...it WILL happen.

[Danielle]

Ack, I didn't mean to end there. There are kids like that EVERYWHERE. Maybe it is best to teach Elias to not respond more than necessary...I tried to give my kid verbal ammunition to counter this kind of behavior and it backfired. Sigh. Of course these behaviors are perfect for circle time discussions with the teacher and the class, as well.

[Ginny]

I hate the bullies. HATE! My beautiful girl has had a tiny taste of that - more than enough for us, believe me, and far too many tears. It's so hard being the mom (or dad).

Wishing you the patience and fortitude to get through it as best you can - and sending hugs.

[Anno]

Thinking of you, Christy! Big hugs xoxo

[Linda]

It's hard being the one who doesn't fit in! I can't speak for everyone in this wide world, but I suspect most of us - at one time or another - feel like the one who doesn't fit. I wonder whether there's something in those bullies that says "I'll make this other person feel miserable instead of me". However it happens, it's awful.

Some of Elias' differences are the more obvious kinds, so he may come in for tough times at the start of getting used to each other. But as kids get to know him, and with guidance from teachers and counselors, they'll learn about his many (and amzing) strengths. They may even learn some compassion!

[niksmom]

*oof!* This one hits me square in the gut as Nik started kindergarten in a general ed school yesterday and I've had to fill in as his para/aide (long story short: IEP coming soon). His CP, his autism, his nonverbal-ness and use of a speech generating device have all made him highly visible. As I sit with him at lunch, I watch the stares of the curious third-graders filing past the kindy tables. Some are genuinely curious while others are obviously sneering and judging. It's been heartwrenching but we've done ok, too.

I think you're right, this getting used to it will take some time.

Sending you and Elias love and hugs and cyber-high-fives. Wish we lived close enough to raise a beer or coffee together to celebrate our amazing boys!

[Paula]

Christy - Its AMAZING just HOW many obstacles, challenges and mountains you ALL have overcome since you & Nick were blessed with Elias. Reading your blogs is just heart wrenching at times, BUT I always end in a small quiet prayer that God continues to guide you with patience, strength and the love you have for your son --the many blessings that have come from these challenges just reminds me that life is not easy and God only gives us what we can handle. Wow I know that was a run on sentence :P but I have to say that I have gotten MANY pick me ups and many many many tearful smiles from reading how sweet and warm spirited Elias has become. He has grown SO much!! I still see pics in my mind of how tiny he was when he was born - and what a HUGE BLESSING that you have received from such a small bundle of joy!! Take care - keep writing; as you touch so many lives...HUGS! Paula (PNA)

[Christy]

So good to hear from you all! Paula, its been years--thanks so much for reconnecting here, your words made me smile.

Niksmom I raise my glass to you; its red wine tonight and I will salute you with my coffee in the am. One day at a time my friend, one stare at a time...

Linda, I think you are right on with this boy so my tactic is to attempt to win him over with kindness...hasn't worked yet but I keep smiling at him and asking him how his day is going. In part to connect and in part so he knows I see him--he's got my attention for sure.

And yes bullies suck and no matter what I do Elias will get teased and harassed and laughed at...and i just have to remind myself that it happens to most of us, no matter what our abilities are, but we can take those taunts and turn them around to make us even stronger

[steffb]

Not to make light of Elias' differences, but I would hang tough - I bet within a few weeks you WILL look in his classroom and not be able to find him at first. He WILL blend in, and for every bully, there will be a few friends. I know from my daughter's classroom, that what seem glaring differences to us, are often handled matter-of-factly by children. Here's to Elias finding his friends soon!