Josiah’s new teacher called last week.  She introduced herself and asked if I could bring Josiah to meet her and to see his new school. It’s hard to imagine, but our little guy is going to Intermediate School in just a few days. No more Elementary School that he’s known since the age of 3. No more Ms. Frances or Ms. Cheryl or Ms. Katrina.  No more familiarity with the routine and structure he has come to know and expect for the past 8 years. We are on to new horizons with new hurdles to leap over and new hoops to jump through.

I remember how it felt many years ago when it was necessary for our 2 oldest girls to return to school after 4 years of being home schooled.  They started back in January, one year after Josiah’s birth. One went to 5th grade and the other to 6th.  They started back during those school years, when (in my humble opinion) kids can be very cruel and heartless.

I cried.  I remember feeling like I was feeding them to the wolves. I recall instances from my own middle school years when kids who didn’t quite ‘fit in’ were teased and tormented.

Fortunately, there were no wolves lurking in the hallways at the girls’ schools.  They loved returning to public school and excelled in their new environments.  They made friends easily and blended in well with their classmates.

Josiah?  Well, Josiah doesn’t exactly ‘fit in’.  He can’t talk.  He lacks social skills.  He needs extensive support with self help skills. He still wears pull-ups.  Not many kids at his new school fit that mold.

Yikes! How do I explain it all to him?  How much will he understand? How do I rest easy assuming it will all work out well, without being there to ensure that it does?

I was very grateful for his teacher’s call.

Natalie, Josiah’s summer care giver (our new ‘adopted’ daughter) strapped Josiah in his seat and crawled in beside him for our drive to ‘Meet the Teacher’.  We chatted on the way, telling Josiah the plan. We were both excited.  Josiah, not so much.

Fortunately, he hopped down out of his seat and walked through the parking lot towards the entrance of the school without much hesitation. But as soon as his teacher opened the door to her classroom and called out to us, he was done with our visit.  He bolted.

Josiah was having none of it.  He was NOT a willing participant.  He wanted to get back in the van. Period.

What does a loving, compassionate mother do in this instance, when she’s wanting to make a great impression on the new teacher and help her son feel safe and comfortable in his new environment?  She pulls him up by his belt loops and half drags him to the doorway, all the way using her legs to propel his legs forward, chanting, “walking feet, walking feet”.

So much for a great impression.

Thankfully, Josiah’s new teacher is wonderful.  I liked her after our first phone conversation.  I liked her after I watched her interact with Josiah. I liked that even though she witnessed a sweaty, out of breath mother manhandle her son into submission as opposed to lovingly encouraging him along, she didn’t pass any judgement.  I like that she has great ideas and lots of experience.  I like that she is already working so hard to ensure all of her students will have a great year.