Paul is one of the most fascinating, intriguing guys I've met. I think he assumed the caretaker role long ago, not only a brother but simply in the orphanage as I watch him interact with his brother and sisters. Mary continues to simply be completely enthralled with the completion of our family unit (well, she did mention her Ethiopian sister still waiting again today but I simply told her "No").
I did not intend for Paul to start school immediately. I wanted to give him time to acclimate. I wanted more time to hold him and let him simply be. I wanted to protect him from feeling overwhelmed or out of place.
But this child is such a charasmatic individual. He was determined in Ethiopia when speaking through Caanan that he wished to be back in school. He had been previously and then was pulled out for reasons he did not know. He wants to learn and excel. How do I convey to him that he has time?
Yesterday we did go out and get his supplies. He glowed as we browsed the glue and such. He proudly picked his Diego backpack and then indicated to me (through pantomime) "bicycle". I told him that yes, Diego did ride a bike and then Mary reminded me that his bicycle had Diego on it. Ahhhh! He kissed his pack of pencils as he placed them in the basket.
I thought . . . we'll be prepared for school should he continue this quest - but he can defer if needed.
We've decided to simply go with 4K for now. Mary was held back under advice of the professionals (late summer birthday) so it is her class. The program is noon-3 p.m. Monday thru Thursday. It would allow him time to be in school yet still plenty of time just to be. I'd notified the school this spring of his impending attendance and they have be so very flexible as well as supportive.
Marty left for work. The boys had been dressed since 5 (they do NOT go barefoot in the house either). Since Marty had prepared breakfast I was able to be showered before his departure (a luxury for me). Paul and Samuel are in and out of the door frequently anyway but as I checked for the sound of his training wheels on the driveway that loops around the house I realized that it had been absent. I was on immediate alert and Mary picked right up on it.
"Paul and Samuel are in Stan the Van" she told me.
Whaaaaat?
I head out and there are my sons. Paul is in his favorite Old Navy sweats. His paint/art smock is on. I believe he thinks it is a school uniform of sorts. His backpack is strapped on and there are beads of sweat forming on his brow.
"Mom?" he asks questioning me when I open the door.
It is so hard to explain to him. I call the school. They check with the school psychologist and powers that be and call back within the hour. Yes, Paul is more than welcome at school today - we can register him officially with a packet to be returned tomorrow (actually now today). He can start 4K with his sister and they can be in the same class to assist. We talk of immersion and the possibility that he could be reevaluated as needed and moved up if we all think it may be in his best interest. He's beaming at the prospect.
Sheryl comes over to watch the little ones. I still cannot locate my camera from our trip and find myself utilizing his Fischer Price model to capture the moment (I'll upload later). We go early to meet the principal and staff (Mary has done this before but not Paul). His eyes are huge as he drinks in the environment and poses for yet one more photo.
And we head to their classroom and find where to place their backpacks on hooks in the hallway above their name placecards. Their teacher is young and so very sweet and friendly without being overbearing. Paul begins to simply withdraw. The aide in the room notices his eyes watering and I'm horrified to see him dabbing his eyes with the short-sleeved shirt I had convinced him to change into (with his sweat pants). I watch my son struggle.
And I feel like I have betrayed him. Mary is scampering about the room euphorically. She is clueless. I place my arms about Paul and ask if he is okay and if he'd rather go home. His body racks with sobs. He will not answer. He doesn't cling. He will not look at me nor will he respond either physically or verbally.
The children begin to assemble for a story while the parents that are lingering are free to witness. Paul indicates that he needs to go to the bathroom and I readily take him out, hoping to be able to convey to him that simply put - this is not mandatory. Once at the bathroom he darts in and is back out immediately. He walks down the hall while I am trying to talk to him but it is like he is that child that I met the first day in Ethiopia . . . he is blanked out in the face. He returns to the room and I try to convey to Mary that she needs to assist her big brother. She comes to his side and almost immediately embarks on her own agenda again.
Another boy approaches him and says . . . "Do you want to play with me - I can build Lincoln logs!" We head to where there is a partial cabin being assembled but Paul is just standing with tears. He is given a small bear to hug and tissues are made available.
The story begins as another mother introduces herself and offers comfort. I'm wanting to pick him up physicially and run. After the story the children with parents still lingering are to come and place a heart ink stamp on the back of their hand to signify a kiss and the parent in turn places on theirs. Paul and Mary are first and I still am wearing the two hearts. I in turn place stamps on their hands. Paul is so very dark the red isn't seen easily. It is time to go.
I'm fighting tears in the parking lot and another mother from class offers me her phone number. The tears come within a house or two and I drive home just trying to see. I'm sobbing from the exhaustion and doubting my ability to know what is in my son's best interest. I feel that I should have disappointed him by not allowing him to go to class with his sister and allow him to be simply a kid. I was to call Mary Romer with the results of his drop-off and I cannot because I cannot speak.
During the wait for pickup Samuel and Julia keep me occupied but not enough. I am the first parent in line for pickup (we won't be using the bus service). We have changed the video in the van and Sam and Julia are fast asleep. I see the first activity of children taking down the flag and I am on full alert. The van is running with the air conditioning going and I get out and walk to the door with the sleeping toddlers strapped in place. Then I see Mary and Paul walk out. All seems fine and they do not even notice me. I call to them and Paul lights up and he and Mary race to my arms.
I ask how his day went and am told that he is "brave" and did well. I keep checking his face and body language - not sure we'll be returning with him tomorrow. He laughs as we open the door of the van and his sleeping siblings are revealed. He is fascinated by the new video in the van - a Signing Time series and he is practicing sign language with delight. We head to the local BP station and I take the school kids in while the younger ones sleep and we get a treat of gatorade in twist-top bottles for everyone and I allow them to each pick one treat. Paul got the M&M's he has been admiring since Ethiopia and Mary got Skittles. I also told them that while I would be happy if they shared - this was their treat for starting school and I would not require it. We bought two large carrots and two apples and Paul did not know what was in store next.
I pull from in front of the station to the side and tried to explain that there was a small petting zoo. We disembark with the whole crew in tow and Paul is delighted to see the rabbits and chickens with chicks. The goats were both a mite overwhelming and fascinating. He watched with interest as the miniature horses wrestled with biting off the carrot. He would attempt to feed but then withdraw with a mite of fear and excitement when they would reach for him.
The apple was more difficult to stabilize (usually the station offers to cut up the produce to feed easier) but oh so much fun. He tentatively stroked the extra-fuzzy donkey and cajoled the alpacas to get up and join us but they ignored his antics. Julia covers her ears when we get to the sheep as they bleat so loudly and once again Paul assumed the role of caregiver. We fed more horses and soon the food had run out.
We head back to the van (which has gotten pretty hot) and delve into the drinks and I open the candy treats. Samuel DEMANDS a treat and I explain that he got a doughnut from Aunt Sheryl while I took them to school the others didn't. Paul laughed at his antics and for the first time ever didn't offer to share. As we pulled out of the parking lot I hear him . .
"Mom? Thank you."
We make it home and my son has returned to normal. Samuel continues to cry for candy and suddenly they are laughing and sharing and racing about the house. I am instructed to open my mouth and a sour Skittle with a peanut M&M are placed in . . . interesting combination.
We concentrate on chalk drawings for the driveway and porch and Paul begins a version of hopscotch. I'm surprised (and pleased) when he adamantly refuses to allow Mary to decorate his board and persistently redirects her attentions to another area. She continues but he ultimately wins out - silently pulling her wrist over to another spot.
Later on I hear her first protest over her brother. He has place her "princess" basket from her bicycle onto his. Well, Mary has refused to ride her bicycle as the brakes caused her to pitch over early in her bicycle "career" when she was attempting to go into reverse like her tricycle. Paul is accomplished now and we were hoping he would cause her to step up in her efforts - yet she prefers to ride Julia's tricycle or simply trot next to Paul as he races back and forth. I allow the basket to remain until she is riding her bicycle. She explains that her worry is humanitarian as she didn't want someone to think he was a "girl" with such a basket. :o)
But my giddy guy has returned. He tells Dad that school is good. Over dinner (more of the "lasagna" and chicken/stuffing in which Paul was chomping the drumstick bones until we begged him to stop) I tried to get the children to say what their favorite part of school was. Paul would smile but Mary would answer for both of them. Girls!
But he told Marty he wanted to return today.
If only I had 1/5 of the character of this child.
I did not intend for Paul to start school immediately. I wanted to give him time to acclimate. I wanted more time to hold him and let him simply be. I wanted to protect him from feeling overwhelmed or out of place.
But this child is such a charasmatic individual. He was determined in Ethiopia when speaking through Caanan that he wished to be back in school. He had been previously and then was pulled out for reasons he did not know. He wants to learn and excel. How do I convey to him that he has time?
Yesterday we did go out and get his supplies. He glowed as we browsed the glue and such. He proudly picked his Diego backpack and then indicated to me (through pantomime) "bicycle". I told him that yes, Diego did ride a bike and then Mary reminded me that his bicycle had Diego on it. Ahhhh! He kissed his pack of pencils as he placed them in the basket.
I thought . . . we'll be prepared for school should he continue this quest - but he can defer if needed.
We've decided to simply go with 4K for now. Mary was held back under advice of the professionals (late summer birthday) so it is her class. The program is noon-3 p.m. Monday thru Thursday. It would allow him time to be in school yet still plenty of time just to be. I'd notified the school this spring of his impending attendance and they have be so very flexible as well as supportive.
Marty left for work. The boys had been dressed since 5 (they do NOT go barefoot in the house either). Since Marty had prepared breakfast I was able to be showered before his departure (a luxury for me). Paul and Samuel are in and out of the door frequently anyway but as I checked for the sound of his training wheels on the driveway that loops around the house I realized that it had been absent. I was on immediate alert and Mary picked right up on it.
"Paul and Samuel are in Stan the Van" she told me.
Whaaaaat?
I head out and there are my sons. Paul is in his favorite Old Navy sweats. His paint/art smock is on. I believe he thinks it is a school uniform of sorts. His backpack is strapped on and there are beads of sweat forming on his brow.
"Mom?" he asks questioning me when I open the door.
It is so hard to explain to him. I call the school. They check with the school psychologist and powers that be and call back within the hour. Yes, Paul is more than welcome at school today - we can register him officially with a packet to be returned tomorrow (actually now today). He can start 4K with his sister and they can be in the same class to assist. We talk of immersion and the possibility that he could be reevaluated as needed and moved up if we all think it may be in his best interest. He's beaming at the prospect.
Sheryl comes over to watch the little ones. I still cannot locate my camera from our trip and find myself utilizing his Fischer Price model to capture the moment (I'll upload later). We go early to meet the principal and staff (Mary has done this before but not Paul). His eyes are huge as he drinks in the environment and poses for yet one more photo.
And we head to their classroom and find where to place their backpacks on hooks in the hallway above their name placecards. Their teacher is young and so very sweet and friendly without being overbearing. Paul begins to simply withdraw. The aide in the room notices his eyes watering and I'm horrified to see him dabbing his eyes with the short-sleeved shirt I had convinced him to change into (with his sweat pants). I watch my son struggle.
And I feel like I have betrayed him. Mary is scampering about the room euphorically. She is clueless. I place my arms about Paul and ask if he is okay and if he'd rather go home. His body racks with sobs. He will not answer. He doesn't cling. He will not look at me nor will he respond either physically or verbally.
The children begin to assemble for a story while the parents that are lingering are free to witness. Paul indicates that he needs to go to the bathroom and I readily take him out, hoping to be able to convey to him that simply put - this is not mandatory. Once at the bathroom he darts in and is back out immediately. He walks down the hall while I am trying to talk to him but it is like he is that child that I met the first day in Ethiopia . . . he is blanked out in the face. He returns to the room and I try to convey to Mary that she needs to assist her big brother. She comes to his side and almost immediately embarks on her own agenda again.
Another boy approaches him and says . . . "Do you want to play with me - I can build Lincoln logs!" We head to where there is a partial cabin being assembled but Paul is just standing with tears. He is given a small bear to hug and tissues are made available.
The story begins as another mother introduces herself and offers comfort. I'm wanting to pick him up physicially and run. After the story the children with parents still lingering are to come and place a heart ink stamp on the back of their hand to signify a kiss and the parent in turn places on theirs. Paul and Mary are first and I still am wearing the two hearts. I in turn place stamps on their hands. Paul is so very dark the red isn't seen easily. It is time to go.
I'm fighting tears in the parking lot and another mother from class offers me her phone number. The tears come within a house or two and I drive home just trying to see. I'm sobbing from the exhaustion and doubting my ability to know what is in my son's best interest. I feel that I should have disappointed him by not allowing him to go to class with his sister and allow him to be simply a kid. I was to call Mary Romer with the results of his drop-off and I cannot because I cannot speak.
During the wait for pickup Samuel and Julia keep me occupied but not enough. I am the first parent in line for pickup (we won't be using the bus service). We have changed the video in the van and Sam and Julia are fast asleep. I see the first activity of children taking down the flag and I am on full alert. The van is running with the air conditioning going and I get out and walk to the door with the sleeping toddlers strapped in place. Then I see Mary and Paul walk out. All seems fine and they do not even notice me. I call to them and Paul lights up and he and Mary race to my arms.
I ask how his day went and am told that he is "brave" and did well. I keep checking his face and body language - not sure we'll be returning with him tomorrow. He laughs as we open the door of the van and his sleeping siblings are revealed. He is fascinated by the new video in the van - a Signing Time series and he is practicing sign language with delight. We head to the local BP station and I take the school kids in while the younger ones sleep and we get a treat of gatorade in twist-top bottles for everyone and I allow them to each pick one treat. Paul got the M&M's he has been admiring since Ethiopia and Mary got Skittles. I also told them that while I would be happy if they shared - this was their treat for starting school and I would not require it. We bought two large carrots and two apples and Paul did not know what was in store next.
I pull from in front of the station to the side and tried to explain that there was a small petting zoo. We disembark with the whole crew in tow and Paul is delighted to see the rabbits and chickens with chicks. The goats were both a mite overwhelming and fascinating. He watched with interest as the miniature horses wrestled with biting off the carrot. He would attempt to feed but then withdraw with a mite of fear and excitement when they would reach for him.
The apple was more difficult to stabilize (usually the station offers to cut up the produce to feed easier) but oh so much fun. He tentatively stroked the extra-fuzzy donkey and cajoled the alpacas to get up and join us but they ignored his antics. Julia covers her ears when we get to the sheep as they bleat so loudly and once again Paul assumed the role of caregiver. We fed more horses and soon the food had run out.
We head back to the van (which has gotten pretty hot) and delve into the drinks and I open the candy treats. Samuel DEMANDS a treat and I explain that he got a doughnut from Aunt Sheryl while I took them to school the others didn't. Paul laughed at his antics and for the first time ever didn't offer to share. As we pulled out of the parking lot I hear him . .
"Mom? Thank you."
We make it home and my son has returned to normal. Samuel continues to cry for candy and suddenly they are laughing and sharing and racing about the house. I am instructed to open my mouth and a sour Skittle with a peanut M&M are placed in . . . interesting combination.
We concentrate on chalk drawings for the driveway and porch and Paul begins a version of hopscotch. I'm surprised (and pleased) when he adamantly refuses to allow Mary to decorate his board and persistently redirects her attentions to another area. She continues but he ultimately wins out - silently pulling her wrist over to another spot.
Later on I hear her first protest over her brother. He has place her "princess" basket from her bicycle onto his. Well, Mary has refused to ride her bicycle as the brakes caused her to pitch over early in her bicycle "career" when she was attempting to go into reverse like her tricycle. Paul is accomplished now and we were hoping he would cause her to step up in her efforts - yet she prefers to ride Julia's tricycle or simply trot next to Paul as he races back and forth. I allow the basket to remain until she is riding her bicycle. She explains that her worry is humanitarian as she didn't want someone to think he was a "girl" with such a basket. :o)
But my giddy guy has returned. He tells Dad that school is good. Over dinner (more of the "lasagna" and chicken/stuffing in which Paul was chomping the drumstick bones until we begged him to stop) I tried to get the children to say what their favorite part of school was. Paul would smile but Mary would answer for both of them. Girls!
But he told Marty he wanted to return today.
If only I had 1/5 of the character of this child.
Posts
