Lieutenant Dan! Magic Ears!

June always seems so busy. The midpoint of the year, things start / stop -- school ends, camps begin and the weather eventually settles down. The beginning of this June saw James at his first graduation. He graduated from Pre-K successfully. ;) They did a really cute recital of a bunch of songs and dances and the school director gave her teary-eyed farewell to another class. James was the first one to come out and actually participated in about half the songs before giving up and sitting in his seat. I'm sure it was chaotic and overwhelming for him. Unfortunately I can't seem to get him to understand that there's no more "Yellow School," as he asks to go just about every day.

Graduation!



The school offers a summer reading program, designed to really give him a boost for Kindergarten. He loves writing and can read some sight words already, his teacher feels that even with the hearing issues he should be able to keep up. So he'll be back in school for July.

Magic Ears!


On Flag Day James finally got his hearing aids! In true James style he took them completely in stride, no adjustment period necessary. We put them in, turned them on and voila! He realized immediately that they were helping him hear and takes great care with them (for a 4 and a half year old anyway). Which is good because at $3500 for the pair, we can't afford it to be otherwise. The ear molds are dalmation-spotted at his request -- 102 Dalmations was the movie of the month when we ordered the ear molds. (g)

We started taking him to Special Ed twice a week back in March, so he was in school four days a week between that and his Pre-K. He goes for speech and hearing therapy, along with repeat evaluations and social exercises. They're on break now, he'll resume in July for one more month and then be done with it -- he integrates into normal Kindergarten in the fall.

His teachers are absolutely wonderful and they adore him. He likes going and has definitely benefited from the experience. However, all that being said I will be glad when it's over. I cry every single time I drop him off. I can't help it, it's just a hard adjustment. He's in a small group and is the (very obviously) highest functioning child in the class. The ladies tell me he's very good with the disabled children and is very helpful to them at playtime, but you can see his confusion sometimes. That he knows that something is different with the children when he tries to interact with them. The other parents are actually nicer than most of the ones at Pre-K and the children are great. But when the teachers come out to collect/herd them in at drop-off, he kisses me good-bye and trustingly puts his hand in Ms. Cheryl's and I watch him walk in. Then I get back in my van and cry as I drive home.

I try to figure out why this is and I think it's just frustration. This is my perfect little boy, he's not supposed to have anything permanent "wrong" with him. He's not supposed to rely on devices or be limited in any way, restricted for reasons not of his own making. I dread the day that the other children decide to focus on his small difference, I would spare him the pain and confusion that will come from mean small-minded people. His differences should be of his choosing, his unique personality, not forced upon him for whatever reason this happened. Yet his road begins with a little more burden than I think is fair and all I can do is help him carry it, I can't take it away. That's why Mommy cries on the ride home.

Though I will share this story, from when the process first began. In our first "IEP" meeting, when we were deciding what his therapy and educational needs would be, we met with his Special Ed teachers, speech therapist and the school board person, etc. As they laid out his evaluation and plans, they were very painfully, obviously trying NOT to use the actual term "Special Ed" in any form. Granted we had come from work and were in uniform, and my husband can be scary-looking but I mean they were really pussyfooting around the term. I think they were just worried that we'd be upset or feel that James was being labeled, I don't know. Finally we said to them, "Look ladies it's ok. We know he has additional needs and we want to get him whatever he needs to be successful, so it's really alright." Anyway the meeting went fine and we went home with all the paperwork and folder full of welcome packet, etc. So we go home and I open the folder to read the class information and what do I see? What's the first thing in the folder, right on top, glaring out at me?

An application for the Special Olympics. Go figure. ;)