Goodbye Kindergarten

Leo "graduated" from kindergarten on Friday.


Didn't he just graduate from pre-K? Why yes he did! Last year in fact.
It's amazing a whole year has gone by. I remember how nervous I was to let Leo go to the big scary new school. But there's no question in my mind it was the right decision. He's such a big boy. It was such a thrill to see him up on stage on Friday with all the other kids, just being himself, doing his thing. He's matured so much.

Here he is singing a song guaranteed to make any mommy cry: "When I grow up." Sorry about the um, camerawork. I knew there was a reason I didn't go into documentary film making. Toward the end of this clip, each child shares what they wish to be. You can sort of tell that Leo is reading his off a cue-card which his teacher is holding up.* I thought this was so smart of her to do and I was so proud of how he participated.

After the ceremony, we all joined Leo in his classroom for a party. Ellie was very excited to be at the ceremony and Leo was beyond thrilled to show off his little sister.

And of course, no party is complete without cake.

*In case you missed it, Leo wants to be a firefighter when he grows up. Good to know!

The Big Sap at the IEP Meeting

This morning was Leo’s IEP meeting. He’s going into the first grade in the fall. First grade! My baby!

I always get choked up at these meetings. Not because I’m sad about all the things Leo isn’t doing or can’t do (frankly, there isn’t much he can’t do). No, if you’ll indulge me for a moment, I get teary because it’s pretty emotional to sit at a table with a bunch of women who are telling you how great your kid is. And these aren’t people who have to say any of this.

Here were a few of the main points:

-Leo loves to learn. (This has always been one of his greatest strengths, I will agree and really, I think we just lucked out with this one. It’s just his personality. He loves to learn and he loves to please and he loves to be praised). I wish I could take some kind of credit for this but I truly believe kids come with this or they don't.

-According to Ms. L, Leo is a “truly special child and one of the most grateful children” she’s ever met. She told a story of how he’d misplaced his hat. The teacher and the aides looked all over for it. Leo was troubled but not hysterical and was able to move on when he was told they would “find it tomorrow.” Then Mrs. L. tried one more place and lo and behold, the hat was found. Mrs. L. said Leo hugged her and said “thank you, thank you” as though he’d just been given an all day pass to Disney World.

-Handwriting is making progress though still needs work. No surprise there.

-Leo’s sight reading is coming along. He knows 40 sight words in the Edmark Reading Program. Sidenote: This weekend at Costco Leo asked to hold my shopping list. He took one look at the scrawled “dog food” on the little piece of note paper and the massive 35-pound bag on the bottom of cart and declared “dog food!” No doubt about it. That boy can read.

-It’s not just that he can sight read. He loves books and loves reading. This means so much to me, as a lifelong reader and devourer of books, an English major, a journalist, a writer—books have been important to me ever since I fell in love the Bob Books and Bread and Jam for Frances. It’s so important for me to encourage this affection for books in my children. Obviously I can’t make them love books. But I guess all those trips to the library and Barnes & Noble and reading Boynton board books to five day old Leo might be paying off?

-Leo loves his family. We reportedly figure big in his little world. When asked to draw anything, a circus, a beach, the cast of characters in any setting will always include “Mama, Mommy, Ellie and Ruby.” Awwwwwww.

-Leo’s speech therapist reiterated something she had mentioned to me earlier in the year, which is that she’s always judged intelligence by a sense of humor and Leo has a great one, a "sophisticated" (her word, honest) sense of humor, even. And yes, this is when I really choked up. My little boy is funny and not by accident. People aren’t laughing at him, they’re laughing because he’s darn hilarious and he means to be (and best of all he knows it). She also pronounced his receptive language "remarkable." He understands everything. (Whether or not he will actually do what you ask him to do is a whole other conversation.)

-Leo has a girlfriend. She’s in the “typical” kindergarten and her name is Bella. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that her name just happens to be very close to his adored sister Ellie’s nickname (Ellie Belle or just, Belle). That boy loves his sister (loves to push her buttons and drive her crazy and make her cry too).

-Of course not everything is kittens and puppies and rainbows. Leo continues to be a bit overly friendly, doling out hugs to pretty much anyone who will take one. This is no surprise and we struggle with that out in the world too (the waitress who brings the ketchup probably doesn’t really want that cuddle).

-We are having a major and I mean major transportation issue (transportation is part of the IEP). It's really boring to explain here but it has to do with the district not wanting to take Leo the two miles outside of town limits to where his after care program is located (they recently moved). I understand the district's reasoning and we're trying to come up with a solution but it's the kind of thing that wakes me up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. Not good.

-Leo is easily distracted, particularly by the computer (which he adores). When another child is using the computer and Leo is expected to do another activity they pretty much have to build a barricade around the computer area so that Leo can’t see what’s going on. I suggested maybe horse blinders? KIDDING.

-He is stubborn. Sometimes to a fault and to a maddening degree (OK I added that last part). Huh. Really? (Insert sarcasm.)

-Lastly, Leo was administered the standardized test all the “typical” kindergartners took and no surprise he scored low overall, with some notable higher areas (reading and portions of the handwriting and math were stronger, reading comprehension was without a surprise, a bit of a disaster, since his expressive language is still so far behind a typical kindergartners). Mrs. L. included this score in the packet of material that will come home with the IEP tonight, just for our information. “It is what it is, said Mrs.. L. “Leo’s doing just great.”

There was a time I would have focused on this point, above all others, on the fact that Leo is not “normal” and not like all the other kids. But it’s different now. He’s such his own little person and it’s so clear at the end of every school day from his weary little face and sleepy eyes at the dinner table (he’s mastered the art of chewing with his eyes closed and has been known to nearly nod off while eating) how hard he tries every damn day.

There's no reason to be sad. I can’t not be so incredibly proud of him and yes, teary.

The Environmentalist

Friday night, amidst the chaos that is dinner preparation and hand washing for said dinner, I let the kitchen sink faucet run a little too long. Leo was standing on the stool in front of the sink, looking all over for a dish towel (he accepts only cloth, no paper towels).

He then pointed to the running water and said to me, clear as a bell: “Earth Day.”

At first I couldn’t quite believe what I’d heard. I made him repeat it several times. I was so impressed by the connection he’d made. I know they recently completed an extensive unit on Earth Day and the environment at school. Looks like he’s buying all the propaganda they’re selling (KIDDING!).


Here's a worksheet where I'm guessing Leo learned his "lesson." Note the heavy use of yellow (which you'll recall is his favorite color/obsession). Shall we consider this Leo's "yellow period?"

I wrote a note to Mrs. L about Leo’s observation—I thought she’d like to know that her lessons are being taken to heart. Here is her reply:

“He is keeping all of us on our toes. He's been complaining to me that the faucet in one of the bathrooms we use has usually been left dripping when we come in to use it. He takes it very seriously! I have to remember to tell the custodian that it needs to be fixed. We have been talking about turning off the lights when we leave a room as well so be prepared!”

Well, we've been warned.

A Enigma and a Nod to Emerson

Every since I returned from Portland, Leo has been in a mood.

I hate to generalize, but I think in this case, it’s fair.

Leo has been angry, aggressive and impulsive. And did I mention angry?

I wish I could capture his scowl. His furrowed brow, his tiny pursed lips. His expression is so clenched, so exaggerated and dripping with fury, it looks painful.

I know it’s painful for me.

Two nights in a row Leo refused to come to the dinner table, even for his beloved eggs. Last night he sat at the bottom of the steps in the entry way and literally wailed. It’s hard to ignore and just go along like everything is fine with this sort of behavior. It’s hard not to let it get to you.

He’s been complaining about things being “too loud,” so much so that I actually took him to the pediatrician on Monday to see if he had an ear infection (he’d been literally holding his ears). I actually really hoped he had an ear infection. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a little miracle cure? Nope. He checked out just fine.

With any other child (say, one with 46 chromosomes), I would chalk this up to a phase. But with Leo, my mind goes in all sorts of directions. And Dr. Google doesn’t help.

I know that by nature I'm a worrier. And when it comes to the kids, when things are particularly hard, I tend to think They Are Always Going to Be This Way. I think back to early newborn days when Ellie was waking every hour. It didn't seem possible that would ever change, but of course it did.

Eventually last night, Leo did come around. He joined Erin at the table and gulped down pasta while Ellie and I went upstairs to do bath and books. He’s seemed happier lately when things are one-on-one which is fine when it’s possible, but newsflash to Leo: You’re not an only child. We have no plans to get rid of Ellie any time soon.

I emailed Leo’s teacher on Tuesday to find out if she’d been seeing any of the troubling behavior we’d seen and she said Leo had been completely agreeable.

Then I received this email yesterday: “Leo is having a difficult day today. At times he is refusing to do his work or listen to directions. I guess this is what you had written me about before. He eventually comes around but today it's taking him a longer time.”

Not what I wanted to hear. Like most kids, Leo’s always been a Different Person at school and has almost always saved his challenging behavior for lucky us at home. Obviously this is not fun for us but it’s certainly preferable to him being a turkey at home and at school.

But.

This morning he came downstairs without much haggling. He ate his breakfast in a timely manner. He didn’t assault me when I tried to help him get dressed. And best of all, he bolted out the door calling, “My bus!” upon seeing his morning ride to school. He practically skipped toward the bus and boarded it without protest or attitude.

So maybe today is a new day? Maybe it is just a phase. Or maybe it’s as a few people have suggested, that Leo is actually angry with me for going away for almost a week. He didn’t get to go see grandpa and grandpa like Ellie did. He didn’t get to go on the airplane. Is he just ticked off?

So today I am celebrating a good morning. I am hoping for the best and taking it one day at a time (any other good cliches I can spout?).

But seriously, here's something that feels particularly apropos. I really do love this one:

“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.”
--Ralph Waldo Emerson

Monday, Leo’s teacher sent this picture home in his backpack.

He was Student of the Month at his school. And why was he recognized?

For gratefulness.

Oh Leo, you are my little mystery.

Halloween (Part 2, Leo's)

I couldn't have asked for a better schedule on Friday. Ellie's party/parade was in the morning and Leo's was in the early afternoon. In hindsight I wish I'd brought Ellie to Leo's parade. She would have loved it. Leo's school is big: 500 kids. All dressed up. All. Of. Them.

Leo didn't see me at first.


Apologies for the crummy photo editing hatchet job here. Didn't want to show Leo's teacher or the other kids in the photo without permission. This is Leo's who am I supposed to be looking at? face.

Oh! Mommy's here!

Soon it was time to go inside for the party.


Now that is a dog who enjoys a cupcake. Seriously though, Leo has an almost pathological love for cupcakes. (See above. Is it a beard? Is it a cupcake?) I am talking addiction.

Leo got to skip taking the bus to after care/daycare. We picked Ellie up before 3:30 and headed home, almost three hours earlier than most days.

As a special bonus, we had a house call from Leo's teacher shortly after we got home. At the party, she had offered up the class' jack o' lantern (seen above) to us and dropped it off on her way home. Apologies for the messy house and pantsless two-year-old (I'm looking at you Ellie) Mrs. L., but it was fun having you. Leo actually shocked me--normally he hates seeing school people out of context but he grabbed Mrs. L.'s hand as she stood in the doorway and practically pulled her inside (I don't think she'd intended to come in, the poor woman had just survived a full day of teaching elementary school on the Friday before Halloween, if anything she should have been on her way to happy hour).

So it was a short, pleasant visit with Mrs. L.

Then it was on to dinner, books, bath and

bed.

Think he was tired?

Meet the Kindergartener

Here is he is on the first day of school (yesterday), in all his waiting-for-the-bus-glory.

He was all smiles, until the bus came. He just doesn't like to get on the bus when he leaves from Mommy or Mama. Add Ellie to the mix and forget it.

But he was happy as can be when I picked him up from daycare last night (as was Ellie). Leo's teacher wrote in his communication book that he had a "great first day." He reportedly enjoyed taking a "tour of the school and meeting all the other teachers and therapists." Of course I'm not surprised to hear this as no one ever accused Leo of not being friendly.

Ellie is still having a hard time saying goodbye in the morning at the new daycare. Lots and lots of tears and "uppy Mommy," even when she's already in my arms, her little legs wrapped tightly around my waist. And for the first time ever, she doesn't have 'her Leo' in the mornings to keep her company at daycare. It didn't even occur to me that this might make a difference for her. But of course it makes perfect sense. They seem to grow more attached to each other by the day.


This is a big, long, hard, exciting week.

We'll get through it.