autism in the classroom: max's first day of grade one.

Max started grade one yesterday. I'm certain I was at least as stressed out about it as he was. Well, maybe I was more stressed out beforehand and he was more stressed out on the actual day. I didn't sleep a wink on Monday night. It wasn't that I thought anything bad would happen, it's just that I know how hard changes are on him. After having Max home with me all summer, it's a big transition for both of us.

To be fair, Max started getting ready for his move to grade one back in the spring. For the last month of school, Max's EA (he's had the same awesome EA since JK) took him on daily visits to his new teacher's room. He got to see where his new desk would be, his coat hook, and the washroom. He also spent time with his new teacher, a wonderful lady who is very excited to have Max in her room. He even has a social story about grade 1 that his EA made for him. He's a lucky kid to have such a great team supporting him at school.

This picture was taken in our driveway before we left for school. Max was happy all the way there, until we pulled up in our special parking spot - directly in front of a "no parking ever" sign. His EA came up to the car and when he saw her, his lower lip started to quiver. He refused to get out of the car, and I had to lift him out. Then he sat on the ground, his head in his hands. When it became clear he wasn't going to budge, we picked him up and carried him into the classroom.

And then he was fine.

He didn't even say goodbye to me. On day two, we pulled up to the school, he hopped out of the car, and went and stood in line with his class. I was lucky to get a "bye mommy" as he went inside. Good job my little rock star. I am SO proud of you!!

fat kid flash back.

My birth-father and me at a 5km race.

This morning, after I dropped Max off at school, I drove past the Grade 6 Girl's gym class who were out running cross country on a route around the school neighbourhood.  Seeing them brought me back to my days at Unionville Public School, running around Toogood Pond for my Grade 6 gym class. I despised gym with all my heart. 

And then I saw her. 

She was walking by herself, huffing and puffing, her much-too-big-for-her gym shirt hanging almost to her knees.  Girls jogged in small groups ahead of her, laughing at each other's jokes.  Girls walked in small groups behind her, completely absorbed in what was clearly important gossip.  She could have been me.  Talk about a fat kid flash back. 

I was a chunky kid. I wore glasses. I had buck teeth. My face broke out. Insult to injury? I was smart too. As you can imagine, I was not popular. Not at all.  I wore baggy clothes to try to hide my body, thinking that if I wore something ill fitting, it would bring less attention to the fact that I was not skinny like the cool girls.  Grade 6 girls are mean jerks when they travel in packs.  That was true when I was a kid, and it's true to this day. 

It was on one of those "runs" for Canada Fitness testing, where we had to do laps around pylons on the field behind the school that I decided if I had to run alone, it would be because I was at the front of the class and none of the other girls could keep up with me.  At least then I could hold my head high and not feel like the class loser who nobody wanted to be seen with.  

From that day forward, no matter how much my legs were burning, my lungs felt like they were going to explode, or how red my face got, I made sure to be the first girl to clock in. I remember the shocked look on my gym teacher, Mrs. Manley's face, the first time I rounded the corner of the pond and appeared on the school field, with no other girl even in sight.  She nodded curtly at me, and I thought to myself "yeah, that's right, I may be fat but I can still hustle".  That was the day I became a runner.