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Crazy Mikey

Today I went to school to eat lunch with Michael.  It was good to sit with the other parents and their children, and get to know how their kids were adjusting.  We chatted and took a couple of pictures, then the fidgeting began.  You remember that guy on That’s Incredible that could manipulate himself into a plexiglass box that was about two cubic feet?  These were the type of maneuvers that he seemed to be doing in his chair between bites of pizza and nectarine.  That and that fantastic gasp that he does that makes my ears bleed and everyone else around us think he’s choking.  Lunch is only 30 minutes and we still had 15 minutes left.  At one point, I told him that if he didn’t sit still, I would bring him back to the cafeteria to join his class and I would leave.  Naturally, the realization hit that he would be going back to class and I would be going home, anyway.  Here come the tears and red splotches on his face.  We decided to find the bathroom and clean off the marker that he tattooed on himself before lunch, and walk around a bit to get him to calm down.  It didn’t work great, but eventually he joined his classmates lining up to return to the classroom.  He was sad, but he went, and when I picked him up after school, he was happy as a clam.  His teacher wrote a note informing me that he is less teary eyed each day at school and that she has seen much improvement in his writing.  I think she likes him, and I’m glad.

He begs me to practice tracing his letters and numbers on his dry erase board, which is wonderful, except I cringe for my dining room chairs when he’s wielding a marker.  The other problem I have is that Pierce wants to use anything that writes when his brother does.  I have a strange feeling he might end up being an artist, but there is no place safe in my home for toddler and a writing utensil.  I need to try to figure out a way that I can let him practice without putting visqueen over my whole house.  He seems to like the colors, too, because the drawing boards with the magnetic pens and graphite shavings don’t excite him too much.

Overall it was a good day with just a smattering of grief!

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