For myself, I was looking forward to an unexpected day off from work by taking care of some household chores, going to the gym, and visiting a local winery. You know, like a grown up in the wine country during the summer. I headed off some stress by taking James to school. I could tell it was probably not going to be the best day but crossed my fingers, like most autism parents do.
I nailed the chores (putting laundry away, cleaning bathrooms and the kitchen in blissful solitude) and got in my swimming workout. I hesitated about going back home for lunch but kept to my daydream of visiting a local winery.
So I headed north on a beautiful day. Preston Farm and Winery did not disappoint. I sat down at a little cafe table under the trees, closed my eyes, and listed to the wind whisper the leaves of the overhead trees and the visiting families. And breathed. And relaxed. The garden was glorious.
I took a windy little country road back, windows rolled down (which I cannot do with James in the car) and... happy. Completely, in-the-moment happy.
Which is good, because as I pulled into the parking lot of my complex, the phone rang. The school was so sorry to bother me, but James had eloped into the nearby performance venue's upper bathrooms and was not coming out. Might I be available to pick him up early. "I'm on my way," I replied, turning the car back out to the road. I know this drill. At least I had a great morning.
"One moment," I was told. Hold music ensued for a couple of minutes. I kept driving. Thank goodness we live close by, I was thinking.
Then something different happened. The office had checked with James' teacher, and they thought they could get him back to the classroom by themselves. They actually preferred to try that. I asked if I could just come early and wait in the office. Sure thing, they replied.
When I arrived, everyone was calm. I got to talking with another mom, who asked me some friendly, relaxed getting to know you questions. She assured me that all the parents have their stories of how they struggled to get their kids into this new school. She shared how this was the best place for her child and that "everyone here will tell you the same thing." As she headed out to pick up her son, she waved and said she was looking forward to getting to know each other next year.
I cannot remember the last time something like this happened. It felt really good, after I got over being a little stunned.
James was in a testing mood: paper stuck in his mouth, rambling all over the office, and walking outside the office and looking in the window at me right after I asked him to stay in the office so I could chat with his teacher. His teacher still radiated positive energy and described the elopement and how they got him back (by letting him spot them, turning and walking slowly away. Stopping, repeating, until he was back in the classroom).
She said overall she could tell the day was hard and she appreciated him trying to participate before eloping. She said she was looking forward to having him in her class next year and hoped we'd have a good summer. She did an amazing job of letting me know what happened while making me feel it was just part of a regular day. I feel like she really understood - the behaviours, and most importantly, James. It was such a different experience from public school. Even when they people were nice, I left with James feeling tense, like we were constantly being caught out wrong.
"Did you get the invite?" she asked. No? Evidently, one of James' new classmates had parents who were throwing a pool party to celebrate summer. The teacher emailed me the invite. James was invited to a party by a classmate. The closest we'd ever experienced was when his second grade teacher had her end of the year party for everyone in her backyard.
This new school is feeling pretty damned good already. Feeling really grateful. And a part of something good.
No comments:
Post a Comment