School's In

School's in.
The last two weeks have been......Interesting. Fun. Refreshing. Exhausting. Sanity-depleting.
You couldn't pay me enough to re-live them.

Lexxi and Isaac are doing public school this year. Going wonderful. They both ended up with the sweetest teachers; I couldn't have picked them out better myself. It is refreshing to be comfortable with their learning environment, so that I am able to devote more of my energy to helping Briah with her harder middle school work.

Dabriah is doing the I.N.S.P.I.R.E. online school from home for her 6th grade year. So far she loves it, and I love that she can do so much of it so independently. There are many great resources available to her in this program, from great teachlet tutorials for each subject, to brain pop movies, to 3D science dissections. Lots of interesting material, and some fun stuff as well. She is also involved weekly with CYT again.

Levi....... Oh, my Levi. He has started kindergarten this year.
This would be where the exhausting, sanity-depleting parts come in.
He was so excited to go his first day. Jumped right into class and joined in the activities. Could not have cared less when I walked out the door.

Day Two. :
Gets on the bus fine, then in a few minutes he's got crocodile tears. Through sobs he says, "I'm....gonna....miss.....you." I am flabbergasted, as this is my child who is normally ornery and ultra-independent. He gets back off the bus, I decide to drive him, let him settle down, remind him how fun day one was. Dropped him off, got him into the breakfast room, gave him hugs, and headed out. He seemed fine.

Two hours later :
Call from the school, Levi is sitting in a corner, refusing to do anything with the class. We have more tears, and oral defiance. But with my permission, they'd like to keep him there, work with him, and try to help him transition. I feel bad, but it is fine by me. By the end of the day, he did not do much with the class, but did finally come out of his shell for recess and lunch before coming home.

Day Three. Friday :
He refuses to get on the bus, it leaves without him. I drive him to school, as he yells the whole way, "I hate kindergarten! I'm not going back EVER!" and when I ask why, he responds, "because I'm...going to miss you!" and more tears. Touching. He then told me he wanted me to just give him some food and let him go live at the condo on Schweitzer mountain…
At school, I can only coax him out of the van with the request that he show me around the school, the art room, the gym, the library, all the places he has fun. He does so, with his hand glued to mine the whole time. After the tour, he refuses to go to class. The secretary and I convince him to come back for lunch time. With that we find some success, he even sits through a little class time and participates, then rides the bus home, all smiles. High five.

Days four and five, Monday and Tuesday : unfortunately he's home with a cold and fever. Shoot.

Day six. Wednesday :
When I get to the school, he gets out fine, then as soon as the aid takes his hand to guide him into the playground and to the classroom, he starts screaming and looks at me like I'm abandoning him and leaving him in some p.o.w. camp or something. Grabs onto the fence, and the two aids are now patiently talking to him as they gently pry his fingers off and together guide him toward his classroom. I drive off as he tearfully resists their efforts and wonder if I'm the worst mother ever to walk the face of the earth.

An hour later I call just to see how he's doing. Turns out he only fought and cried for about 20 minutes, then his teacher helped him successfully transition into the activities and he did great the rest of the day. Rode the bus home, got off in smiles. Feelings of hope.

Day seven. Thursday :

How I hated Thursday.

When we got to the school, he refused to even get out of the van. Screaming and clinging to Braden's car seat with all his might, I gave him a few minutes to calm down... (and just maybe to allow the last few parents dropping off their kids and staring at the screams coming from my direction to finish their business and move on... )
I reminded him how much fun he has at school. He wasn't having it. Finally I gently but firmly peel him off the seat, trying to talk reason with him all the while. Outside the van, I realize I forgot his backpack. As I open the door to retrieve it, he takes the opportunity to break free of my hand and runs down the sidewalk, and then literally wraps his whole body around a light post.

Did I mention his school is right at a 4-way intersection, and that this particular sidewalk is directly situated right next to 4 lanes of traffic? Oh yes, we were quite the show. Me trying to talk sense into my screaming 5-year old, his eyes squeezed shut tight as he puts all his effort into clinging to the post as I try to peel him off.
I take a few deep breaths, then finally am able to slowly peel him off, inch by inch, as I get my wits about me and ask him if he would please come in and talk to Miss Kimber (the secretary) with me, reminding him of the nice green bracelet she had given him on his first day. He consents, but clings painfully to my hand.
Once inside, he is late, so I check him in at the office. I tell them he's having a hard morning. They ask if I'd like the counselor to help him to class, since he has done well with her the last few days at school. I say sure, (and to be honest I am quite exasperated and feeling a bit grateful at this point.) So the counselor kindly talks to him and takes his hand, and as soon as he realizes I'm going to leave he starts screaming and crying again, struggling to run off. Then as she's patiently trying to talk to him and holding his hand to keep him moving in the right direction, she is looking down and so she runs smack into a wooden door and hurts her shoulder. A teacher's aid kindly takes Levi's other hand, and as they continue talking patiently to him and moving him on to class, they insist I may go, that they will work with him until he calms down. I feel bad that the counselor is now in pain and I talk to the secretary, telling her I'm so sorry, and that if they need anything from me to just call. She is very kind and tells me she thinks he will get his footing and not to give up. She says they are more than willing to continue working with him, and I pretty much just feel like hugging her.

I drive away and cry my way home.
The counselor calls me about an hour later, to let me know she sat with Levi and let him have his tantrum for a few minutes. Then as he lay on the ground, face to the floor, she slowly started touching his fingers and playing the piggies rhyme. He began quieting down, and gradually lifted his head. Then his teacher came out and talked to him. Levi has really begun to create a bond with her, so she was able to kindly but firmly tell him that on the count of three she wanted him to get up and come on in to class. He said he wasn't ready, but sure enough when she reached three, he took her hand and she led him into class.
The rest of the day he did great, and he got off the bus in smiles.

Day eight. Friday :
As I drive Levi to school, he keeps telling me that he just wants to stay home, that he'll go to school tomorrow. I tell him he needs to go today and remind him again how much he enjoyed his time with his friends and teachers yesterday. At the school, I brace myself for the potential of a repeat of the previous day. But to my surprise he gets his backpack and slowly but surely climbs out of the van. At the fence, he gives me a hug and says "Bye Mom." I tell him I love him and to have a good day, then he runs off into the playground, unaided.
And I feel this overwhelming sensation to both cry and celebrate.

Cross your fingers with me for Monday.

Please Monday, be a repeat of Friday.

I truly do love this boy. SO very much.