I started this post on Wednesday night. Today is Saturday....hmmm.... busy start to the year.
Day One
So today was the big day. Last night was the big night. Its school time.
Of course I ignored the newsletter that reminded us to get the kids to sleep early a few nights before school starts. Yea, thats how we roll. So I am the brilliant mom chasing her kids to bed at 10pm. The morning started out fine. I forgot the art of lunch packing since my brain is still in bbq mode. Summer is gone for all intents and purposes but I haven't caught up. Crashing through the refrigerator I come up with carrots, slap some meat and cheese on baguette left over from dinner and grill on the trusty panini grill. I toss in a bottle of water and some random fruit. I will shop today and make it up to them on the second day of school.
My seven year old needs to wake up first. I make her some oatmeal and water. I know , prison food, I will get it right on the second day of school. She puts together a stunning ensemble. It is a symphony of stripes, flowers, polka-dots and sparkles. I drop her at school and off to wrangle the twelve year old. This is usually the most daunting task and today is no different.
Dropping my daughter off is easy, she walks to class and that is that. My son is different. He has new teachers so I need to contact all of them to offer assistance if they need it. I have found teachers who have never worked with a deaf kid can be nervous about it. Sometimes they need to be taught how to use the interpreter or they need to be aware videos need to be captioned. Please don't stand in front of a window while you lecture I tell them. I am teaching my son how to do this himself. Next year is sink or swim but this year I help a bit. My emails are light and I make attempts at humor. I have found over the years teachers are people and they respond better to the team player approach rather than the adversarial approach. I want to give them tools before they make a well meaning mistake.
I also contact his itinerant teacher. I set up a meeting to make sure everything is ready to go. I make sure he got the right interpreter. I wait to hear how his day went. I get a text to remind the school he will need an interpreter for callbacks for the musical. Yes, he is the only deaf kid auditioning for the musical.
In the morning I had fully intended to take pictures. I forgot. I was reminded when I logged into fancebook and saw the parade of my friend's kids. Surely they do this to taunt me. I figure I can take an after school picture.
I pick up my daughter who jumps in the car sans cool jacket she got for school.
Me, "Where is your jacket?"
Her, "I loaned it to Sara because she was cold"
My daughter is really nice but we need that jacket back.
She loves her teacher and her best buddy is in her class. All is good.
We then go to my son's school to give him a snack before his audition. I was so busy dealing with the helicopter duties of being the mother of a deaf kid I didn't have time to prepare a healthy meal for him. We end up at Dairy Queen. I will do better on the second day of school.
It is then he tells me a funny story. There are a bunch of new nervous sixth graders at school. All of the staff and returning students know my son, it is a small school with grades 6-12 and he is the only deaf kid. They are used to him and he is an equal part of the community.
He is in the hall with his interpreter. A girl walks up thinking the interpreter is staff.
"Excuse me where is the girls bathroom?"
The interpreter does her job and interprets. The girl has a strange expression. It is the interpreter's first day and she doesn't know where to direct the girl. She apologizes and interprets her response. My son knows where the bathroom is and with two B hand-shapes held parallel shows her. Imagine the guy on the street crew directing traffic. The girl looks at him like he is crazy.
This first day went fine. It is Saturday and the kids are relaxing. My son had his third callback for the musical this morning, yes a musical. I never got my pictures. The best I can do is described what they looked like.
My son wore a Beattles shirt, purple jeans and purple shoes. His haircut was a hot topic. He didn't want a jacket, "not my style" so therefore he came home with all of his clothes.
Next week we will be a well oiled machine.