100 Days, From a Distance

This week, Jame's school celebrated the 100th day of school. Because his school contains only 1st and 2nd grade classes, they make a huge deal about this. No kidding -- there are signs everywhere, welcoming all to the 100th day of school. Parents are encouraged to volunteer or drop by to share the special day. Classrooms set up to do crafts, games, and activities. The most popular is the goodies gauntlet, where kids get to pick 100 pieces of their favourite snack foods.

I was excited that James was getting to be a part of this, because it made him a part of our community and would have a shared experience that his peers would remember and talk about in later years. I was also hesitant, remembering what happened when I showed up at the Winter Singing Festival.

Sure enough, James was confused as to why I was staying in his room with him, once school started. He started to look anxious and then began to cry. He could not stay seated or still. He kept rocking on his feet or popping out of his chair. He was trying to make sense of it all, asking me things like "Mommy? You stay in in the room?" and "Mommy, is time to go home now?" and even "Mommy, you go outside?" His distress was acute. I could practically see the synapses short-circuiting. Poor guy!

I felt blindsided and isolated yet again by autism/sensitivites. Then I sighed (I do a lot of that) and tried to think about how to handle Right Now. I tried explaining that it was okay, I was just visiting and he'd get to have his whole day at school. No go. It didn't help that his teacher's well-meant urgings to me to "stay in the class, because he will really remember my being here and it will matter to him" added to the confusion. I think his teacher was right, but all the talk and confusion was ramping up both his and my anxieties.

I finally decided to hang out in the background, helping to take pictures for the teachers and assisting the moms with minor clean-up and refills. Every now and then I'd swing close to James, tell him "good work!" and take a picture of him and his classmates before fading back again. Lather, rinse, repeat. And sigh.

Once back home, I tried to review what happened and think about what would have been a better approach and how to do it better Next Time. I thought I should have done a social story about 100 Day at school, so we all could have gone over it in advance. But, I realized, I never thought I'd need one because I'd been with James in a classroom when his SHAPE assistant could not be there, so I could sit by him and help. He used to loved it when that happened. Why has my showing up at school suddenly become a problem? I can only guess that before the school was smaller, quieter, and more structured that his present school and class. Also, James is "waking up" more to his peers and environment. I know he can get over-stimulated, especially when it gets noisy. He is also getting more fixed with his routines than before.

So the best I can come up with is to keep trying to help out in the classroom, largely staying in the background until he gets more comfortable with seeing me there. And do a Social Story for the next time there will be a big school event. Boy, is this frustrating!

I remember my daughter's first 100th Day celebration. I had to come late (because of problems with James' school bus) and by the time I found her, she was off to the side of the room and crying silently to herself. So we sat together in a quiet corner and then worked our way up to doing a few of the activities. She stayed away from the noisy and crowded areas as much as possible and did not want me out of her sight.

I get a little discouraged, you know? Because I see all these other kids just having a ball. I know it's not that simple for everyone, but sometimes it really feels like it is for everyone but us. And here we are again, participating in life, from a distance.