More Firsts

Olive started preschool this week, at Birchwood Montessori, and she had her first sleepover last night at her friend Gracie's house who lives two doors down.

Such a big girl.

"I'm not a baby!" she says when I call her mine.

"But you'll always be mine," I say, as if she understands my sentiments here.

And not mine at all. All Olive. All spit and fire, do-it-myself, creative ideas, all her own.

Her development continues to amaze me, as my first "normal" involved crawling into the preschool room at age three, a walker ditched by the door, no expectation for Elias to sit during circle time, me worried the other kids might sit on him, in tears on the way home.

With Olive, I didn't even get to bring her to school on her first day.

Daddy dropped her off after an hour of her standing in the kitchen wearing her red backpack:

"I want to go to school right now!"

"But Sweetie, its only 6:30 in the morning, its not time to go yet."  

"Why, Mommy, why?"

Olive's teacher sent us a slide-show of pictures from her first week. In one Ms. Tere sits in front of the eight kids reading a book and Olive sits in the middle with her hand raised.

"Its like she's been here forever," her teacher told us on her first day, when we picked her up after 5:00.

(After I called Nick in tears because the truck wouldn't start and despite her school being on his way home from work I still wanted to be a part of her first day of school. Without me asking, he offered to come all the way home, get me, and turn back around to pick up Olive together.)

As the week went on, Olive's early morning enthusiasm waned, tired from her almost ten hour days, but she continues to give me a hug and a kiss and smile as she walks out the door with her Dad. "Bye Mom! Bye Yias! I'm going to school now!!"

So proud.

As we walked down the street to her first sleepover, me carrying her duffel bag, Olive a book, she practically glowed with excitement.

And despite needing Mommy to lie in bed with her till she falls asleep at our house, an endearing and  frustrating routine that has somehow developed over the last few months, Olive never even needed to call home during her 15 hours away. No tears for Mommy. She even slept through the night in Grace's bed, snuggled with her best buddy.

Elias also had a sleepover. Elias spent the night at Ms Julia's house, his Aide and Respite worker, so Nick and I could celebrate his 35th birthday. And I could get sad here, thinking about his lack of buddies, age nine and no close friends.

And yet he is not sad and thinks a sleepover at Ms. Julia's house is the best date ever. And it was. They rode the city bus, another first, something he has talked about doing for years, and ate at the Lucky Wishbone. Before bed they read stories and snuggled and Elias too slept straight through the night.

Elias's teacher recently asked me to talk with Elias about why he completes work with Ms. Julia but resists working for his other Aide who relieves Julia for breaks throughout the day. When I asked him, he hardly even paused before responding matter-of-fact-ly: "Because I love Ms. Julia."

And he does. And how lucky is that? And yes, she won't be with him forever and he needs to work just for the sake of learning, but as the parent of a kid with special needs there is really nothing better than knowing he is both loved and loving.

Sure, I still hope there is a time when he truly bonds with a kid his age, but I can't let my own feelings infect his reality. As his reality is far different than mine. Different than Olive's.  And I love the world he lives in too. I like knowing that our conversations will cycle around elevators and chairlifts, house numbers and baggage claims, and not the complex social innuendos of third grade. Other kids in his class talk to me about feeling left out from friends or teased by others and Elias seems oblivious to the unwritten rules of school.

Olive, on the other hand, is only a few years away from it all, and sometimes, I'm not sure which reality scares me more, hers or his.

So maybe I should just return to where I sit, in the Challenge chalet, as Elias skis with his instructors, March Madness on TV, an empty latte cup by my side, my pen moving across the page, fresh snow falling on the Chugach Range.

                                                              ******

PS. After I wrote this, and Elias returned from skiing, we sat on the far bench near the big table to take off his boots. "Remember when we had my birthday right there?" he said, pointing at the table.

"I do."

"Remember how all my friends came? And Ms Julia was here!"

"Yep," I smiled, "It was pretty cool."

Comments

[s.e.]

My daughter is 16 and has no friends. However, i think that our culture over emphasizes the need for a bff etc. Friendship is a double edged sword and especially for girls as they get older fraught with stress and potential hurt just as often as if offers comfort and support. That is just my thoughts and experience as a very shy and introspective person. The only time in my life when I had any friends was when my boys were little and even then I was often alone and not included in non kid focused activities.

[Laura Martin]

Christy, I always love your writing, but today this made me more teary than usual. I'm glad you got a night to celebrate and that your kids had loving places to have sleep-overs. And as an avid (perhaps rabid!) Montessori fan, I can only imagine that independent and energetic Olive is in exactly the right place...as it sounds like Elias is too with Ms. Julia. xo La

[Kristine Lindblom]

Karina doesn't have friends either. She's never been invited to any birthday parties or play dates. And at church not a single girl has tried to talk to her or play. But I think it hurts me more than it does her. She also has a favorite aide, who out of the kindness of her heart takes her places in the evening. Maybe adult friendships are all that our kids need.

[Shelley]

What a sweet, sweet post. Even though he may not know it yet, Elias had a lot of friends!

[Shelley]

That should read "has". Elias HAS a lot of friends.

[Kimberly]

Once again, you write straight out of my heart. I understand the joy and appreciation when the little one paves her own way. Simultaneously, I feel grief in what our older ones lost and had to struggle through. Joy is tempered by loss and that is a hard, hard thing, especially when I project how that will manifest with future milestones. Thank you for your candid words that liberate your readers with the same situation and educating readers who care anyway even though they aren't.

[Noel Dennehy]

Just loved every word- you are so gifted!
Your parents arrive late Sunday and I can't wait to see them...but...I know I will hear so many wonderful stories about you three- but...I can't wait! I (we) will see tons of pictures and will be with you all- minus Nick of course. How lucky you are to have Nick's parents near by and how wonderful it was that Nick's mom traveled with you. XOX

[Christy]

All your comments make me think and feel loved so thank you.

S.E. and Kristine I do often think that Elias having adults in his life that he loves and love him may be enough, even if a part of me is sad for what he's missing, that's from my experience, not his. Another reader wrote me a message on FB that this period of peer friendship is short-lived anyways, b/c eventually our kids will be grown, and then they will have adults as friends anyways, and she said it far more beautiful than that b/c it reminded me that this too will change. The thought of Elias as an adult feels lifetimes away but I know its closer than I think.

So as Shelley says, he does have a lot of friends, they just aren't all nine, as he himself said when talking about his birthday,--all my friends came-- even though the only kids there were the children of my friends.

And I can write all this and yet as Kimberly mentions, there is still grief that comes before acceptance for me every time.

Laura, Olive is loving Montessori and already showed me tree pose in yoga and is counting everything which she wasnt doing before last week and yes, I think its a perfect fit for her energy.

Thank you Noel, give my parents a squeeze!