TriUMPH!

Paul made major strides today. He returned to school.

We weren't expecting it. We weren't pushing it . . . well, his sister Mary was but we were telling her to cool it. His book bag is still packed and ready and we allow him to peek but not to play around with the contents.

The school has been very understanding. They said to take as much time as needed. He has had encouragement and even allowed to do projects at home to be turned in for a reward sticker.

I don't ask "do you want to go TODAY?" I simply felt that after he faced his fears that first day I wasn't going to (at this point) push him. I think he pushed himself enough. I wasn't sure when I might start encouraging his return.

But today Mary came racing in and said "Paul said he wants to go to school today!" I didn't totally believe her. I didn't seek him out and ask him. I thought . . . let it be.

And sure enough, he verified Mary's position. He seemed excited. Their Aunt Sheryl came over to watch the little ones while I took them to school just in case he became overwhelmed again. I had been told I could stay as long as needed and he could leave with me when he returned. I didn't want Samuel and Julia sitting in the car - this needed to be about him.

So we pull in the circle drive and he starts a nervous whine/laugh/cry. I open the van door and he's out first but as Mary tries to exit, he acts like he's about to head back in the van. But its different this time. He is grinning like a Cheshire cat and its more of a nervous, excited state as opposed to being totally overwhelmed and shut down.

I tell him that he needs to simply come inside with me. He can leave immediately with me but he can wave to his schoolmates/friends/teachers. I can stay with him. I can leave. We can stay together as long as he wants (he didn't know I had promised Sheryl I would be no more than an hour total). We walk the same hallway and as we stop outside his room there are children already assembled in various stations of his classroom. Mary deposits her backpack on her assigned hook and he finds his. The door is cracked and Ms. B peeks out to tell Mary hello and doesn't see him as he's bent over retying his shoe.

When she sees Paul she holds her hands up to her face in exaggerated surprise and then turns around as if she is seeing things. He giggles. She spins and embraces him. He is beaming. Greetings are warm and he's nervous but seems so very happy. The other children approach. A song begins about greeting your friends and walking around the room and I stay. They head for a story and I stand right outside the area. Paul is beside Mary. It is a tactile book and the children are feeling things on the pages. The book is not finished and I see him place his hand by his face, thumb to his cheek and his finger waggle as his eyes dart at me.

Bye? Are you telling me to leave?

He nods yes. His eyes are dancing and his smile is contagious.

"Tell Paul's Mom bye!"

Mary interjects that I am HER mother too.

I leave. I am a totally different woman than I was one week ago trying to drive between the tears.

My son has mastered his fears. He comes home that afternoon a conqueror . . . a HERO. He painted. He interacted. He was a child in school who enjoyed it.

And we rejoice.