A Different Kind of First Friday

First Fridays used to mean Family Connection Parenting Classes run by James' preschool. Some of these were extremely helpful, and it was nice to connect with other parents of kids on the spectrum. As we crept up on the second year, it became less effective for me, as they covered the same hot topics every year. I started ducking out, feeling guilty.

End of Year First Friday Family Picnic, 2008

Once again, it's a First Friday, and I am at home, drinking coffee and looking at my To Do list, vol. IV, and remembering how happy James was on the walk to school this morning. He was extremely vocal, calling out things like "I'm walking!" and "Ooh look -- dere's a leaf!"

As we rounded a corner, we scared a group of ravens off a neighbour's yard, and they flapped away across the street to land on top of a tall street light. James struggled to capture this with expressive speech "Look! They go ... they go over dere. They go ... up, Mommy! They tall! Up High! Big!" And laughing. How I do love that boy.

Two blocks from school, with the drop-off parking lot in sight: "I'm James (hand on chest) ... and You are Mommy (hand pointing to me)." Wow. He was already getting ready for being in class. We got onto the play yard just as classes started lining up. He ran right over to his aide and gave her a hug. I got what I think of as the Push Off Wave: "Good bye, Mommy!" with the hand and palm flat out, arm straight, as to push me off ... but waving. He is polite.

I walked off, checking him out discreetly; but he was all set to start his day and happy to be there. So I came home. To drink some coffee. And grin. And enjoy a wonderful, bittersweet First Friday.