After days of hearing, "I don't want to go to school," as Elias pulled his six blankets over his bony frame, after his tears and wild arm swings as we yanked those back blankets down, we decided to try setting an alarm for 6:45 a.m.
And a second one for 7:15. "Is the second one when I need to be dressed by?"
"That would be great." I was just thinking out of bed, but dressed, by himself, without me asking a hundred times, that would make my mornings closer to tolerable.
And so yesterday, as I stood in the kitchen, clutching my coffee cup like a prayer, I looked at the clock, "Elias's alarm should be going off any moment."
Before Nick could respond, we heard his door open, as Elias emerged from the darkness in his post-bath hair: "My alarm just went off."
"Well good morning, so glad to see you awake..."
And again this morning, as I sat at the kitchen table writing the first daft of this post, his door opened and he stumble-ran my way.
"My alarm just went off."
"Good morning Bud!"
**********
On most days, Elias's lunch comes home uneaten.
We met with his team this week to address a variety of concerns, one of which was getting him to eat lunch. For our part, we said we'd make a checklist for him, like a visual schedule, to remind Elias to eat more than the fruit snacks but the meat of the meal.
The past three days, when we unzip his lunchbox in the evening, the lightness of the load lifts the curve of my lips.
My boy ate!
When you still have to fork feed your nine-year-old to remind him to eat, to do what most of us do all too well, chew and swallow food, well, an empty container is like a gold medal.
A reprieve.
A long last exhale.
***********
The Teacher's Assistant assigned to Elias gave her notice a month ago, her last day fell two weeks from today, and the position remains unfilled.
I wrote and chose not to publish a frustrated vent about the bureaucratic processes that interfere with my son's education.
It's been a rough first quarter.
I have too often encountered Elias in the hallway, walking out of the boy's bathroom, with his pants undone, pull-up exposed. I imagine the worst when I picture Elias unsupervised in the bathroom with other boys. My Mom hat and Counselor hat merge and turn Christy into a mess of a woman in tears on her way home.
And yet Elias wants to "try" and I don't want him in diapers forever if there's a chance he can train.
But he's incontinent. He can't feel it. He doesn't have control.
I don' t know.
I only know this.
Last night, as I sat on the kid's toilet, Elias walked in and said, "I have to go potty."
"Wait till I'm finished, but get ready."
He just wants my attention. Wants to take over. Wants to pretend.
Wants to "try"...
But Elias stood, his back swayed, his balance precarious, and sprayed a stream of possibilities into the great white abyss.
Cheers!
Happy Friday!
What a triumph in the bathroom! You deserve whatever you are having in these pictures and it sounds like things can only get better. Don't they have to get a new TA for him? I wish our teachers worked harder during lunch to make sure kids are eating...everyone gets so distracted and then I wonder how much learning is possible in the afternoon when the kids are running off of 1/2 an apple or a box of raisins. I know we already ask too much of our teachers....
Posted by: fleming | 10/05/2013 at 04:43 AM
Go Elias! A big accomplishment indeed!
Posted by: Becka | 10/05/2013 at 03:10 PM
Woohoo!!! Great progress. Hope he gets hooked up with a great TA soon.
Posted by: Kate | 10/07/2013 at 03:28 PM