December 3rd, 2011 § 1 Comment
So, we’re not stuck anymore.
The past few days have been an emotional blur, full of stomach-clenching conversations, sleepless nights, occasional and unexpected burst of tears. But as challenging and draining as things have been, we’ve also gotten some clarity on the whole situation with my son’s school. We’ve taken back our power, and that feels good. And my husband and I have come to consensus on a few key points:
- Feeling low-level anxiety every morning you drop your child off at school is a sign that can’t be ignored.
- Dreading phone calls and emails from our son’s school is no way to spend a day.
- Our son deserves to be celebrated for who he is.
- Some things – like having the trust between a school and a parent be broken – just can’t be undone.
- When we follow our gut, things always work out.
- Supporting and advocating for our son is the most important project we will ever take on.
- Change can be scary, but it’s where growth and possibility lives.
- We have a strong community of friends and family who support us.
- We are grateful to have options and be in a position to make the choices that are best for our son.
- Every little thing is gonna be alright.
So, what does that all mean? It means we’ve decided to pull our son out of his school in two weeks when things shut down for winter break. And we’re grateful to have found, with the support of a dear friend who knows and loves my child just as he is, a spot for him at a small, private school whose focus is social and emotional development. And frankly, that’s what he needs to work on. Things like participating in classroom discussions. Like seeing something from someone else’s POV. Like learning to be more grounded and connected. Like feeling good about himself.
As another friend said, “We don’t need him to be any smarter. We need him to learn some of the social skills that are creating trouble for him.” True that.
Funny, I think I thought that once we came up with a plan, once the unknowns had been determined and a course of action set, the anxious knots in my stomach would go away. But they’re still there. I’m still hurt. I’m still confused. Like any bad breakup, I’ve got some wounds to heal. But I also know this breakup is best for everyone involved. We’ll all move on, find something better, eventually forget the bad times and fondly remember the good.
But for now, I’m still in it. There are still conversations to be had, breakup speeches to deliver, and most importantly, one amazing little boy whose world is about to be turned upside down.