You Think You Know a Guy....

This guy.

In addition to owning the kindergarten experience, this guy pulled an entire wagon load of groceries home by himself.

I don't even know what to say.

The stress over kindergarten has been mounting for two+ years.  It would keep me up at night, wondering: will he make friends, will he listen, is he capable of sitting still, will he even TALK to his teachers?

And then the first day of school came, and with it the Scariest Moment Ever (for me): dropping him off in his classroom for the first time.  Another kid was in tears, clinging to his mom.  It didn't bode well.  We found Rowan's spot, put on his name tag and looked at each other.  "Now what do I do?" he asked.  "It looks like you can play with these pattern blocks that are at the table, buddy."  "Okay."  Then a huge realization washed over me:  he is not anxious, sad or scared in any way.  He wasn't even thinking about saying goodbye.  I sat there for a moment, dumbfounded, awkward silence as my kid just turned this Scary Moment into a non-event.  "Um, well, okay then.  I guess I'll go."  "Okay," he replied.  A quick hug and a kiss and he never even watched me leave.

Fast forward to three hours later, and his teacher walks into my classroom. Oh shit, I think, this can't be good.   She beams at me.  "I just want you to know, he does not stand out to me as different from any of the other kids.  He is happy, playing with the others, participating and talking to me."  My knees buckled.  Disbelief, relief, but still a bit of anxiety.  Honeymoon period,  I think,  It won't last.

Rewind to six weeks before school starts.  "Are you excited for kindergarten?" I ask.  "Yes," he says, "But I WON'T sing."

Fast forward to three weeks into school.  Mrs. K, his music teacher, informs me he SANG in music.  He also was spotted dancing.  Later that week, he sings a completely made up song to me.  This is the first time he has sung to me.  EVER.  That same week, reports are the same all around:  following rules, sitting still, listening, participating, making friends.  I still live in a state of disbelief.

Fast forward to four weeks into school.  At lunchtime, in the lounge, I happen to sit with the para who works in his room.  She tells me about an afternoon on the playground, where Rowan has climbed to the top of the fireman pole, a skill he set out to master this summer at Lynnie's.  Apparently, a few kids noticed and made a Big Deal about it.  He did it again, a few minutes later, with ALL the kids watching.  Later that week, I sit with him for 5 minutes at lunch.  The kiddo sitting across from me exclaims, while pointing at my son, "THAT kid is a REALLY good climber!" Rowan beams.

Fast forward to last week.  I am directed to go observe some primary classes to learn some transition techniques, specifically Rowan's teacher.  I go in to watch.  I see it first hand:  my son, who I worried about, cried about, lost sleep over is sitting attentively, raising his hand, participating, following directions, clip at the top of the rainbow chart.  I ask his teacher later, "Is is always sitting that still and attentive?"  She looks right at me, "Always," she says with conviction.

So here we are, close to a quarter of the way into the year, at a place I never imagined we would be.  And if we were in this place, I figured we would have had to work MUCH harder at it than we have.  And I still sit in a state of suspended disbelief. (And the teachers at North Star must think I am a crackpot, for all the warnings I gave them.)  What's bugging me the most is what a hard time I am having of accepting that it all seems like it's going to be okay. I was thinking para, IEP, behavior interventions, 504 plans...and we aren't even close. 

Proud, relieved.  Those words don't even come close to describing how I feel as I accept this Happy Place for my child.  A sense of accomplishment, for all the interventions, strategies and services paid off.  Lynnie, Lynnie, Lynnie....I give you SO much credit, for making my child know how to be a human being, and helping him and me figure out where and how he fits in the world.  I live in the midst of a miracle and am overwhelmed with gratititude.