It seems like there are a billion things going on in our household. We acquired a new house and are in the midst of tackling a long to-do list for it (fixing little things here and there, paint, window blinds, etc). Both N and J in summer camps so I got a taste as to what it was like as a mommy-chauffeur and juggling two schedules and packing lunches and running around like a chicken with no head. There was also a shift in N’s therapies; he somehow graduated from OT – he astonishingly has surpassed the OT’s goals across the board in a mere 4 months?! It is insane to have witnessed where he was back in March, and what he is capable of today. There is still a ton more work to be done, but the OT was confident that his upcoming school (and me at home) is more than enough to challenge him in the areas that he needs it. I found a social skills class (FINALLY) and so we switched gears and focused on that instead. Too bad it is only for the summer though, next week is the last class. He really enjoyed it and I am laminating all the take-home worksheets/flyers so we can continue to work on stuff at home.
But the most stressful part of it was N starting his new school. They offered a summer camp program specifically geared to prep incoming K kids. I could not run fast enough to sign N up for that. We are giving up the public school system and his (nonexistant) IEP/504 for this private school, so I was ready to roll up my sleeves and make things work. Turns out, the program was to prep me as well; it was stressful hearing the daily reports from teachers on how N was doing, good and bad. Daily, I racked my brain of creative ideas/solutions for various situations, prepped N and role played all sorts of scenarios, and waited anxiously for the next day’s report on how things panned out. Some things worked great, some needed improvement, but I did feel comfortable with the open communication and tried my best to be a team player.
It was also emotionally draining, seeing my first-born baby, take off to a “real” school… to pack his lunch for the first time, see him with his same aged peers (and see the subtle & stark differences between them, ouch), see his little desk with his name on it. I worried and fretted over all the little details, planned out every little step of the way to ensure that he was equipt the best he was able to, for the smoothest day possible. I took notes of what worked and didn’t work, squeezed my brain yet again, looking for extra creative solutions. And dealt with the sadness that my daily one-on-one times with him will be severely cut short. Even he noticed that and made a mention of that. And it made me sad all over again.
Letting go is hard.
And brainstorming at this level, on a daily basis, is exhausting.
(But seems to be paying off – N has surprised me and is doing a lot better than I anticipated, lol)