School Angst

I always know it's nearing the end of summer when I have my first school dream. 

The dreams are always some version of me being in my class trying to teach when some absurd scenario begins to play out. I fight to retain control of the class as catastrophe and catastrophe happens. By the time I wake up, I am in a cold sweat from what feels like hours of barely hanging on to my sanity. Then I text my teacher friends and we all laugh about our crazy dreams.

I've had my first school dream this week. This time, however, it wasn't about me surviving the day from hell at school, it was about the boys surviving a day at hell at school. Only this time I didn't wake up and laugh about it.

Instead I woke up and cried.

Now that summer is here, my angst over the boys starting school in a few short months approximately sixty days has gone into overdrive. I think they are more than ready for the academics. It's social acceptance that make me panic. Stories like this and this (and their comments) have kept me up at night. I want so desperately for my boys to have friends and do fun things with their peers. I want them to be included.

I want them to thrive and love school. The social aspects are a big part of that.

~~~

Yesterday, we walked to our local park. Ja.son was using his walker, and by the time we got there, he was starting to tire. His pace had slowed down; his footwork was sloppier. We walked up the path to the play area and passed a family who was on their way out.

"What's wrong with him?" a little girl asked her mother once they were a few feet behind us.

"Shh!" her mother hushed as she hurried the girl toward the street.

Ja.son never acted like he noticed.

I did, though. While I suppose it was an innocent question, the way the mother reacted made it seem so much worse than it was. Her harsh shush got to me.

My skin still isn't thick enough to deflect that kind of situation. Obviously, I'm still thinking about their exchange about my boy. That little girl would never invite my boys over to her house to play. Her mother wouldn't allow it. How many other mothers will be like that? How will that kind of interaction (both directly and indirectly) affect Ja.son and his brother.

Have I done enough to counter all the blows the world will throw their way?

~~~

In a lot of ways, I wish I could fast forward through this year of school, put this year of kinder under our belts, so to speak, and know for sure that everything will be okay.

I like knowing the ending of things. When reading a book, if I get to a point where the story could take a turn I don't really want, especially in stories that are too close to home, I go to the end. If I know how it ends, it makes the tension of drama much easier for me to digest. Sometimes, that's the only way I can read to the end.

I just need a peek at the end of this year's chapter. I want to relax and enjoy the story.