It Takes a Village

This morning was Leo’s spring parent-teacher conference. I last met with Leo’s teacher in the fall. I speak with her on the phone or via email or Leo’s communication book fairly regularly, so I didn’t learn much that I didn’t already know.

Even though it made the morning a bit extra hectic (and I had to bring Ellie with me) I like to get to Leo’s school as often as I can and it’s fun to visit Leo’s classroom. This morning, for example, I found out they are growing potatoes! Leo pointed to the tiny green sprouts poking through the dirt in the big purple Rubbermaid container and signed “baby.” Well they were baby potatoes, he was right.

Perhaps my favorite detail about this morning was seeing pictures from the Dr. Seuss Birthday celebration a few weeks ago. There was Leo, in a circle with a group of (all typical girls). He had his legs crossed, was leaning back in his chair and reading aloud from The Cat in the Hat and the girls were enthralled, clearly under Leo’s spell.

You certainly can’t complain about a meeting with a teacher that begins, “Well everyone loves Leo.”

I’m not surprised to learn that Leo is the “mayor” of his school. He greets everyone in the hall and everyone knows him. He is collectively adored.

I pressed her for the negative. It couldn’t be a total love-fest. Was there anything he needed to work on? Anything we should be doing with him at home?

He still has a hard time transitioning sometimes, but he is easily “redirected” when reminded of an upcoming fun activity. He can be a little overly “chatty,” both with his neighbors and teachers. He is constantly asking questions. Why? What’s that? (Obviously not much of a “problem” in my book for the speech delayed kid to be talking too much but I can imagine it can be annoying as a teacher).

Mrs. L. does think Leo could improve his handwriting, which I was surprised to hear, since I think it’s pretty darn impressive. But clearly I’m a little biased.

The discussion turned to the haircut/sensory concerns. Mrs. L. wanted to know what exactly was Leo’s “issue” with getting his hair cut, so that she and the Occupational therapist could figure out some techniques to help him overcome it. I explained in highly technical terms, that he basically flips. Out. I shared with her the fact that Leo’s been seeing an ENT since he was about six months old. Maybe he just doesn’t like people going at his head with sharp objects?

She agreed they would continue to work on it and even joked she’d been tempted to make a few snips here and there, when they were working with the scissors, but she was worried Leo would get the wrong idea and think it was acceptable to use scissors on other people’s hair.

And then I said in all seriousness, if you can cut Leo’s hair, I give you my blessing. For real. I was pretty much convinced she would have better luck than we do at home. I think we can all agree that most (all?) children are completey different people at school vs. home, so why not? I can see someone reading this and thinking, what, you can't even cut your own kid's hair? But it's not that simple. It reminds me of how Leo was potty trained at school for ages while he still continued to have accidents at home, or how he has always been so good about holding the hands of teachers or aides but up until very recently, would try to bolt when I walked with him.

They are just different creatures, when they're away from us. I firmly believe this.

Back to today. I arrived at work this morning (about an hour after meeting with Leo’s teacher) to a phone message from Ms. L.

“Just wanted to let you know we’ve made some progress in trimming Leo’s hair. It’s not finished yet but it’s a big improvement! I’ll keep you posted.”

And then an email, a few hours later:

Hi Maya,
As per my phone message to your work number, we are still working on Leo's hair - it's definitely a work in progress and will take days to complete. The Health teacher, came in today and told us that she used to be a hairdresser. She has all her equipment at home and will be happy to cut his hair (fix what I've done) once we feel he is ready. We're aiming for the Wednesday after vacation. She would like to know how you would like it cut. If you could find a picture of a haircut you like and could send it in that would be great.
Mrs. L.

And shortly after that email, another note arrived, with these attached:



It’s clear that they are using this as a “teachable moment” which I think is sweet. And smart.

Mrs. L. said that Leo "fussed a bit" [I had written her back inquiring how he reacted to the haircut]. She went on to say: "I did a little at a time. We used a doll and "cut" the dolls hair ( it didn't even have any hair) and then Leo's hair. I'll try to do a little every day to even it out. Tomorrow we talked about doing the front (just so it's not hanging in his eyes)."
Mrs. L.

My heart is swelling. It takes a village, indeed.