A weekly blog from a family made by adoption, warmed by the laughter, broken by the sadness, held together by love with a big dollop of hope, oh, and often soaked in mummy tears.
I’ve discovered today that school is a scary and confusing place. I did already know that this is how Small, my youngest boy, finds school but he was expressing it himself for the first time, sort of. This is how I actually found out.
Setting the Scene: A boy, about ten years of age, has flatly, most ardently refused to go to school. Several attempts to coax him from the house have been met with, “I’m not going. I hate it”. After getting very upset boy is now sat on sofa with a silk scarf draped across his face. Mum sits on the other sofa.
Small: I’m not going. I don’t trust anyone, not even YOU.
Me: soft sing song voice – That must be so awful for you, to live in a world where you can’t trust anyone, not even your mum. It must be especially difficult in school if there is no one to trust, in fact, I would say that would be very frightening.
Small:(still hiding under scarf)tiny voice – It is frightening.
Me: And now you have a new teacher, a new classroom, a new head teacher, that’s a lots of new things and new rules. That must be very hard, it must seem confusing.
Small:(still hiding under scarf)tiny voice – It is confusing.
I did get him to school, about half an hour late but I didn’t feel triumphant. I left him in the foyer of the school, with a teaching assistant, him hiding behind a door and still flatly refusing “I’m not going in”. No, definitely not triumphant. Hopeless, mean, lost and utter anguish for the little boy I love so much. Cue sobbing in car, whilst driving home. Not advisable for safety reasons.
School and I are working on a number of things to help Small with school and I’ll spill the beans on these as we go, but, for now, just know, that my head is constantly buzzing around the topic of Small and the dilemma which is his education.
So here we are, I’m an adoptive parent, married to the MR and we have two boys who came to us as a sibling pair, Small you’ve met and there is also Tall. Tall has just started high school. Thankfully so far it has been with a hop and a skip of joy. Little cracks are starting to show, there were those two snapped pencils that fell from his bag this morning. He also openly confessed (honesty praise was given) to having walked out of a class room yesterday.
I so admire the approach of his form tutor (note the sarcasm here) who informed me during our first phone conversation,
“I don’t like to read the files on the children, that I receive from their previous school, until we are a few weeks in. I don’t like to have preconceived ideas on how they might behave and judge them on this information.”
Do you mean that file that will inform you of some of the challenges my son faces in school and the behaviours you may see because of them. So how will you handle it when he destroys his work, swears at you and storms out?
I hastily sent her an email, detailing some of my concerns, hoping she would read it and rethink her strategy. Don’t worry, I won’t be leaving it at that but my suspicions are that they might be contacting me soon; I’m not sure high school will get a very long honeymoon period. And to all those saying, “Don’t be pessimistic “. I’m not, I’m just being realistic.
So we are finally back into the swing of it all, the routine, a sort of yay, some free hours for me during the day, a definite yay, the anxious, stressful mornings, not a yay, and the dread of home time, a big fat BOO.
So with our first weekend approaching of the school term, we will attempt to get rested and restored for the coming weeks ahead, with low key family time and some big cuddles. But first, to celebrate the end of one week down, I feel a family film night with popcorn is calling. See you next week.
In Other News
I cried at the video of a gorgeous baby girl. Why does that loss thing still creep up on me so unexpectedly?
I cried ( can you see a pattern emerging) when I took small for a medical to do with the assessment of his special educational needs, when describing the terrible support we’d received from our LA. Yep that still hurts too.
Small really can’t see why it would be inappropriate for him to wear fake tan.
Tall confessed to setting his alarm, for the middle of the night, to belly crawl across my bedroom to retrieve electronic devices. More honesty praise was given but, we quite obviously are not over those impulses yet.