the start of 3rd grade
Hey all! How does a whole month of school go by and I have yet to post a first day of school update?
Oh...it's called LIFE. I accidentally mistyped and that just said LICE.. Now that would be an exciting post!
To catch you all up to speed, we were discharged from day treatment with a whopping 3 days left of summer vacation. I turned into super mom that week- we did Legoland, the Zoo, special lunches, parks, a waterpark with friends, and anything else I could cram into the dwindling summer days.
After a few weeks on Zoloft, we expected the first day of school to be picture perfect. I printed my classic first day of school signs, had their outfits laid out, and had packed an over-achiever mom lunch with jokes, treats, and smiley faces.
Paige woke up bright and early, ready for the first day of her last year of elementary.
Peyton hurried down the stairs, excited to not be the baby of the school anymore.
And Hunter? Well, let's just say the excitement had ended there. He would not get out of bed, didn't want to go to school, and after walking to the doors to start a magnificent 2017-2018 year, he bolted to the main street. I chased after him, along with the special ed teacher, and my heart broke in two.
I had Peter walk Peyton and Paige to the classrooms for their first day, after a quick kiss goodbye, and a look of regret in my eyes. I had to break our tradition while chasing our eloper.
After finally getting him in the building, the teacher sent me an update that all was well. He had calmed down and was tackling the day with a smile on his face.
So why did I still have that gut pain? Peter left me the sweetest note on my car windshield, telling me that although the day hadn't started the way we expected, he still loved me and appreciated all I did for our family. And yes, I cried. Hard.
After spending 2.5 weeks in the psych unit, starting a new medication, prepping for the first day with social stories and behavior charts, I hadn't expected my perfect first day of school cards to be tossed on the ground. I hadn't expected the school crowd to be staring at the child who ran out of the building, or the kindergarten mom that rolled her eyes when he screamed in the hallway-
I couldn't imagine defeat after we had worked so DARNED hard.
But now, 4 weeks in, we are doing well. WAY more good days than hard days. And this week, we are in IVIG #21.
Twenty-one weeks of hospital procedures to fight this disorder that has taken so much from us. But yet, somehow, we convince ourselves that it has given us something more:
The will to fight.
We can't ever give up.
It's just not an option.
Oh...it's called LIFE. I accidentally mistyped and that just said LICE.. Now that would be an exciting post!
To catch you all up to speed, we were discharged from day treatment with a whopping 3 days left of summer vacation. I turned into super mom that week- we did Legoland, the Zoo, special lunches, parks, a waterpark with friends, and anything else I could cram into the dwindling summer days.
After a few weeks on Zoloft, we expected the first day of school to be picture perfect. I printed my classic first day of school signs, had their outfits laid out, and had packed an over-achiever mom lunch with jokes, treats, and smiley faces.
Paige woke up bright and early, ready for the first day of her last year of elementary.
Peyton hurried down the stairs, excited to not be the baby of the school anymore.
And Hunter? Well, let's just say the excitement had ended there. He would not get out of bed, didn't want to go to school, and after walking to the doors to start a magnificent 2017-2018 year, he bolted to the main street. I chased after him, along with the special ed teacher, and my heart broke in two.
I had Peter walk Peyton and Paige to the classrooms for their first day, after a quick kiss goodbye, and a look of regret in my eyes. I had to break our tradition while chasing our eloper.
After finally getting him in the building, the teacher sent me an update that all was well. He had calmed down and was tackling the day with a smile on his face.
So why did I still have that gut pain? Peter left me the sweetest note on my car windshield, telling me that although the day hadn't started the way we expected, he still loved me and appreciated all I did for our family. And yes, I cried. Hard.
After spending 2.5 weeks in the psych unit, starting a new medication, prepping for the first day with social stories and behavior charts, I hadn't expected my perfect first day of school cards to be tossed on the ground. I hadn't expected the school crowd to be staring at the child who ran out of the building, or the kindergarten mom that rolled her eyes when he screamed in the hallway-
I couldn't imagine defeat after we had worked so DARNED hard.
But now, 4 weeks in, we are doing well. WAY more good days than hard days. And this week, we are in IVIG #21.
Twenty-one weeks of hospital procedures to fight this disorder that has taken so much from us. But yet, somehow, we convince ourselves that it has given us something more:
The will to fight.
We can't ever give up.
It's just not an option.
 |
| Solar Eclipse |
Comments
Post a Comment