First of all, I want to thank all of you who left comments on my couple previous posts. I am really bad about responding to comments, and I apologize. But I do so appreciate everyone's input. Keep it coming!
Today I wanted to share something exciting. Henry appeared in his first school performance! His teacher just told me the night before, in the communication notebook, that he would be singing a song with the second-graders on stage. At first I was just going to ask her to take a picture for me, but then I wondered "what am I thinking? My son has never before performed on a stage. I can't miss this." So I called in to work and said I'd be late, took Tommy to preschool, picked Bill up from work, and we went to watch the "Charity Newsies Assembly" at the elementary school.
Henry sat in the audience next to his aide and watched the first graders perform. Then he filed onstage with the second graders, seemingly unfazed by all the commotion. He went promptly to his designated spot: (The photos I took are ridiculously dark, but he's basically in the center of this one, wearing a dark green sweater with a white snowflake-pattern stripe across the chest)
I saw him looking around, and that mom instinct in me took hold and I started waving like an idiot. I hadn't told him I was coming, and neither had his teachers. I could, and should, have stayed out of sight, but my excitement and pride just possessed me.He saw me and got really excited, and started calling for me to come over, and to come up on the stage. I was worried that I had screwed everything up by letting him know we were there!
But he ended up participating just fine. He was over at the edge of the group instead of right in the middle where he was supposed to be, but no one cared.
They sang America the Beautiful, with accompanying hand motions. Henry had learned the whole thing and did it right along with the rest of the group. (Normally this is definitely the kind of thing that would make me cry, but I was too excited to cry this time.) Then they recited a little poem about birds on Farmer Brown's farm. The kids were divided into 3 groups and each was supposed to be a different bird. Henry's group were Turkeys, who shouted "eat more chicken, eat more chicken, gobble gobble gobble, it's finger lickin'!"
Henry seemed excited and proud, and aside from some hopping up and down and covering his ears, he did everything just as he was supposed to, as far as I could tell.
When the second-graders were finished, they came back to their seats and Henry asked daddy and I to sit with him. Again, I was worried that this would mess everything up. I sat with him for a minute and then Bill did. (At this point the regular-ed second-grade teacher came over and introduced herself to me. She seemed very nice, and resembled Susan Senator, I thought. A good sign!)
I'm not sure what Bill said to Henry, but when he got up to leave, Henry didn't argue. Just waved and said "bye mommy, bye daddy."_______
So there are some good things at school- some very good stuff going on. Despite my rant the other day, I know that his teacher is just trying to work on the thing that is the biggest obstacle right now- the aggression. She replied to my e-mail and said that she knows the medication decision is a very hard one, but she feels that Henry is not able to control his actions at some times. He will continue to be observed by various people, but that's tricky because his behavior is so erratic. I believe that is the reason for the increased info in the communication book- to show us that the behavior is very random.
Drama Mama had a lovely post the other day about remembering how great our kids are. Obviously, it hit home to me with some of the negative things we've been hearing about Henry lately, and made me think about something that happened last weekend:
The boys had a make-up gymnastics class Saturday morning at 9. Because it was a make-up, it was different: different kids, different teachers, different routine, mom and dad both there, Tommy there... So Henry was a bit dysregulated. Kept loudly saying that he didn't want to go. Needed a little urging to participate, but ended up doing fine in the end.
After gymnastics, we decided to go to a nearby greasy spoon for breakfast. The place is small and was crowded (one of those places that was built like in the 50s and people were smaller then- I felt like a family of giants walking in there). Henry had brought in some of his papers and was talking loudly about them. The only seat was at the bar. Initially the boys sat between us, but then started messing with each other, so Henry and I switched places. Then a booth opened up and we moved over there.
Henry ordered (for himself) blueberry pancakes, sausage and bacon and orange juice. He proceeded to eat it all with his fingers. An old man walked past our table, to pay his bill. He stopped in front of us, smiled, and said "that's 2 good looking kids you've got there."
I smiled, said thank you, and then my eyes filled with tears. I didn't even realize, until that comment, all the baggage I was carrying around. How much I was worrying about whether Henry was bothering people, or what people might be thinking about an 8-year-old eating with his fingers. It's like a rucksack that I've been carrying for so long, I don't even notice it anymore.
With his one kind comment, that man made me realize that not everyone is judging me or my family. That not only do I think my kids are great, lots of other people do too.
Happy thanksgiving my friends and family, and thanks for reading. I'm more thankful for all of you every year!





































