Tuesday, October 11, 2016

William's First Day of School . . . Sort've

I'm interrupting the fairy tale for a little dose of reality.  Ok a big dose of reality.

William needs preschool.  He is pretty attached to me and can be very helpless when he wants to be.  Being the youngest, I'm sure that he's spoiled and it's honestly been a long 3 months with him since we've moved.  A few weekends ago he went on a Saturday with Chopper to do some things and started crying about halfway through that I needed HIM and he and daddy needed to go home.  He can be a good sweet boy and I love him but we need space.

And actually, he really wants to go to school.  And he wants to go alone.  We've gone to a music class for toddlers hosted by a friend from church and he is adamant that I not participate because it's HIS class.

He has started speech therapy at the elementary school but it's 1/2 hour one day a week so I went in to sign him up for preschool.  No surprise, it's full -- unless I want to drive 40 minutes one way to Graf for an open spot over there.  Nope.  So on to the wait list he goes.  But child and youth services does have what they call an on-site daycare program.  It's a three-hour session on Tuesday and Thursday that is more daycare than class -- mixed, multiple ages, a lot of play time, some arts and singing but nothing very academic.  But it's pretty cheap and it's something while we wait.  So I signed him up for the rest of October and this is how the first day went.

Wake William up.  Tell him today is a school day.  He's really excited and gets right out of bed.  Try to change his clothes.  He starts crying and throwing a fit.  Go through his entire drawer and figure out that he wants to continue wearing his pajamas.  His short-sleeved pajamas.  In October in Bavaria.  Not happening.  Leave him crying and screaming in his bedroom for a half hour while I finish getting the girls ready for school, load up the car with my purse, his backpack, shoes and socks, and something he can eat for "breakfast".  Arm myself for battle.  Go back upstairs and force him into pants and a long sleeved shirt.  Carry him down the stairs and buckle him into the seat while he screams, cries, stiffens his entire body and then hits me.  Lose it in the car and start crying while at the same time be grateful he's still in a 5-point harness that he can't unbuckle.  Yell at him pretty good and get his shoes and socks on despite my shaking hands.  Start the car, turn on some fairy music for the girls, get about 3 minutes down the road and William is fine, eating goldfish, and talking about going to school.  Get the girls to school and drop off the paperwork for William's IEP meeting tomorrow and then drive over to the CYS center where he let's me put on his jacket without fuss and goes right in.  While the teacher is giving me a brief orientation for our first time, William asks what I'm doing there and says I need to leave.  I walk out the door, get in car, come home and breathe a sigh of relief.  It's 9 a.m.  I'm exhausted.  

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