I just dropped Missy off at her first day of Summer School. Or Extended School Year (ESY), whatever you prefer calling it.
After 3 years of homeschooling, Brad and I decided it may be time for her to enter the public school system once again. We went through the Assessment process and had her IEP. We don't have a Deaf/Hard of Hearing (D/HH) program in our district so we're going through our County program.
The school is a 20-minute drive from our home. In Pre-School and Kindergarten she rode the bus. Sometimes she was on the bus for over an hour ONE WAY so this time around I'll just drive her myself.
Boy was I anxious the whole drive over there!! I know she is ready for school. After seeing Sissy go to Kindergarten this past year, she was always asking when she could go to school.
After showering this morning, she asked for a specific head band to wear and I told her we needed to brush her hair first. She promptly went to start brushing her hair. And she did a pretty good job on her own. "She's 10, what's the big deal," you say. This is the first time she has ever brushed her hair on her own. Ever. She's started in the past, but would get frustrated and give up. Or only do the front of her hair.
When I dropped her off, I mentioned to her teacher, "She may need a reminder to go to the bathroom."
Usually she wants a personal invitation to go. So, when she's bouncing up and down I tell her to go to the bathroom. Sometimes she'll go in, stand next to the toilet, wait a minute, then come back out again. I'll think she has gone and instead I'll see her a few minutes later bouncing up and down again.
When I tell her teacher "She may need a reminder to go to the bathroom.", she says "The kids are old enough we just let them take care of that on their own." She's got a point, but Missy isn't a typical 10-year old. I ask, "Can we show her where the bathroom is, so she knows where it is if she needs it?"
The teacher leads us over to the restrooms and tells Missy, "Here are the bathrooms. If you need to go, raise your hand and say bathroom please." Missy mimics back, "Raise my hand. Bathroom please." I think "Well crap, I guess I'll be back here before the day is through because she's wet her pants."
At this point I don't even bother to tell the teacher, "While she hasn't ran away for several years, I think you should be aware she has the potential to just wander off." I was already getting the "What the hell kind of class do you think this is?" look from her with my potty comment.
Class doesn't start for another 5 minutes so we decide to go wait outside by the buses that hold her classmates and the younger D/HH class. We use the drinking fountain and I tell Missy "If you need to go potty, please sit on the potty. If you go potty in your pants, you have to go home. Do you understand?"
"Understand." she mimics back.
Then I worry that her classmates have seen our exchange from the bus window (it's pretty easy to eavesdrop with sign language) and will think less of her for it. Then I think, "Please dear God, don't let her ask one of them if they have a penis or vagina."
See, here's a little known secret about Missy. Along with wanting to know everyone's ages and their house number, she wants to know what they've got in their drawers.
It started when Buddy was born and she was like, "What's that?!?!" So I explained to her. I don't know what the sign language slang for those parts are, but after working for a pediatric office for years and hearing the wierdo alternatives parents would use when they'd call for appointments and advice, I swore I'd teach my kids to use the proper terms.
From that point on she would ask for everyone. The fact that she used sign language was a blessing because not everyone would know what she was talking about. Like asking me if the clerk at Target has a penis. He says, "Oh, what did she say?" trying to be nice and engaging her. "That's the sign for 'later'. She says she'll see you later." And I try to run out the door as quickly as possible.
In all honesty, Brad and I usually laugh about it. The alternative is crying and I'm naturally a crier (Thanks Dad for passing that on to me!) so I do that enough already. Dad also thinks it's incredibly funny and gets a good belly laugh out of it.
But, her classmates? And her teacher? Somehow I don't think they're going to find it quite amusing when she asks what color their vagina is (she's the only caucasian student that I saw today).
But, as I'm sitting her typing this, wiping away the tears of anxiety, I remember the fact that she brushed her hair for the first time today. She rose to the occasion. So, along with a graham cracker with Nutella on it, I also need to have a little faith that she will continue to rise to the occasion.
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