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.
From the smooth which was last week, to the very roughest of rides that is this week. Who knew that a boy attending school for an hour, on two separate occasions, could bring us to our knees so dramatically?
Small’s integration back into school was eagerly anticipated, mostly by Small. However, it was still with some hesitation that he approached the school gate, on that first morning. He was looking forward to seeing his friends but yes, I knew he was still worried.
He was to be in the classroom for just over half an hour and then out to play for another half hour, before being transported to the centre he attends in the afternoon. I was to transport him and it was with some trepidation I went to collect him.
“He’s been fine” I was told.
“Did he meet all his targets?” I asked.
“Oh Yes” was the reply.
And FINE is the best word you can find to describe a return to school where he does everything you ask of him? I wondered silently. Not excellent or brilliant, maybe even a smile for the achievement he had made?
Still he came away happy, with stories of how all his friends had hugged him in delight at his return to school. He went to his afternoon school without a backwards glance.
“I don’t want to go, I really don’t want to go” he started about an hour before we were due to go.
As we approached school this day his mood was dark and he muttered away, under his breath, all his worries and concerns. I knew as we parted the outcome for today would probably not be as good.
I nipped to the supermarket, stopped to chat with a friend and twenty minutes later as I left, I checked my phone. I had three missed calls from school.
“Could I come and collect him?” He had failed to comply with requests to do work, opting instead for defiant and disruptive behaviour. I collected him and tried to take him up to the afternoon centre. In the car he became increasingly agitated and by the time we arrived he refused to go in. As he started to cry, obviously distressed by the whole episode, I decided to take him home.
Later that day a letter was delivered to us, detailing Small’s one day exclusion from school, due to “persistently disruptive behaviour”. The day was to be taken as this day so he could return to school the following day and start afresh.
This letter shocked us and left us feeling bewildered. A meeting had taken place to organise Small’s reintegration to school, to which we had not been invited. Nor had we received any written notification of what this procedure would be. A telephone call to the school revealed that they had implemented a three strikes and he’s out procedure.
I suddenly felt sick, really sick, the sickness of an adoptive mum knowing that her vulnerable child is yet again being misunderstood and mistreated. The penny suddenly dropped, they want him out, they are trying to manage him out. With this policy he could be out of the school by the end of the week.
The next day I went to the doctors and had him signed off school for the rest of the week. I needed to put space in place so we could think what we wanted for the future. We are still thinking.
In Other News
Tall came top of the class in his science test, I am a very proud mum.
Also, Tall is getting into War Hammer, a fantasy war game thing. I took him to a shop to get him started and left with a large hole in my purse and a state of confusion in my mind.
Last night, Small and Tall collaborated on operation sneak the DS into bed. I totally foiled them, can’t believe how stupid they must think I am.
I’m so happy it’s half term, I love the calm that having the boys at home brings.