All summer long I wait.
I wait for that first day of school. I wait to figure out what quirky things have come up over the Summer that the schools will need to address to get and help the kids stay on track.
I also wait for the other shoe to drop. My son is entering middle school this year and we're grateful we were able to get him into a private school for kids with learning differences (thank you state scholarship!).
As of today, we're only day 3 into it for him but I find myself still not quite exhaling. New people, uniform, switching classes, higher intensity and new requirements. It is for sure that our public school would have also had the same pressures (sans uniform) but since my son doesn't have anything to compare it to, I fear he will shut down and blame not liking school on this particular school.
See? While I have anxiety for his and his sister's situation, I'm still full of hope each and every new school year.
I am stunned by this, all of a sudden.
I'm stunned that through everything we've been through that I still believe our kids can have a successful year by growing and learning and participating. If I didn't, I suppose I might want to crawl under a rock for a very long school year.
I am finding that I thinking a lot about the word Hope. I am a Person Who Hopes, but does it somewhat privately. It's because I try to be realistic too and I suppose that makes me a sometimes Closeted Person Who Hopes, all the while I am pushing the hope down.
"Keep the hope low, because something is around the corner and it will blow up, you know it will!" I tell myself.
I probably am thinking about this a lot because...I hope he gets some confidence in this environment, I hope the IEP is in place and being implemented, I hope that they can hold it together, I hope the other kids don't tease them for their differences...I hope...I hope!
I think about hope because the kids make me. I'm sure it's their undeniable spirits; especially during the times that they want to participate in life fully. I think that all of our kids with differences...all of them, Our kids, they're amazing.
So every year about this time I'm thinking, "This is it! This is the year!"
I hope. Well, I want to hope.
Julia blogs her family's story at Kidneys and Eyes and owns a social networking site for special needs at Support for Special Needs. You can find her drinking diet coke, working to pay insurance premiums and vintage photo collecting. Her social media portal is Slice of Crazy Pie. Clearly named for her life.
This is me to a T! I am riddled with anxiety and yet still holding on to hope in one corner of my mind. Ugh!!ReplyDelete
"Keey the hope low, because something is around the corner and it will blow up, you know it will!"ReplyDelete
Oh Julia. Ditto, ditto, ditto. Not only this, but I feel like I am doing a disservice to Gregory's actual state of health. I am terribly afraid to give the allusion that we are 'done'. The general population is so ready for us to be 'done' and to scurry of to the land of happiness and light. Not. Going. To. Happen. Yes, we do experience happiness and light, yet it is always tinged with a shadow. A shadow that can/will grow into 'who knows what' over the years. This is our life now.
I hear you, I understand. I have a strange relationship with Hope. The ONLY thing that has ever resonated with me is Emily Dickinson's words on Hope:
“Hope” is the thing with feathers
BY EMILY DICKINSON
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.
This was me a couple of years ago when my oldest transitioned to middle school--which I believe if memory serves, could actually be a level of hell that Dante wrote about. Now, I am a couple of days away from having my hope shaken to the core as my youngest starts Kindergarten. Hope is all we have and yet at times it seems so fragile. Best wishes for the school year. (Mom's endure their own trials and unique stress this time of year.)ReplyDelete
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