My Facebook status last night:
The Great School Open House event of 2014 is done.
1. Thank the good LORD for a kindergarten teacher who remembers me (and my anxiety about [Little C]) from TWO YEARS ago, and demands that he be transferred to her class at the last minute. I almost cried all over her, y'all, and it's way too early in the year for that much crazy.
2. Note to self: increase budget for teacher appreciation week. See #1.
3. Next year, I am strapping school supplies for two kids to my back like a SHERPA, rather than staggering into school, in a dress and heels, carrying multiple overstuffed bags...then wandering around in search of two classrooms located in polar opposite directions. Better yet, I shall train my kids as tiny sherpas.
5. Moving from here to there to everywhere else with two kids constantly in motion and going in completely different directions is very overwhelming.
5. This was just PHASE ONE, and it's gonna be a small miracle if I survive this week...but so far, so good.
Now, somebody get me cake.
It was sort of the epitome of an autistic kid's nightmare, although ironically, I was the one who had the biggest anxiety issues. For an event organized by *teachers*, the whole thing was remarkably unorganized, but I suppose there's always something to quibble about. We checked the teacher assignment board, my heart sinking as I saw that little C's assigned teacher was not who I'd hoped she'd be. I was praying that we'd get Big C's kindergarten teacher, a woman I already knew and was able to talk freely with - a woman I'd discussed Little C with eons ago. No such luck, apparently.
Still, we made our way to Big C's classroom first, only to find that he was (temporarily) teacher-less as the school was working on hiring a replacement for his class. Okay, fine. I can deal, he knows the sub, we're gonna be fine. Breathe. Supplies were (thankfully) dropped off, chat and well wishes were exchanged, and we soldiered on, one school supply load lighter.
Our second stop was Little C's classroom. We'd talked about this, y'all. We'd talked buses and classrooms and lunchroom behavior and bathroom breaks and staying in line, and now he was *finally* strolling through the halls of this much anticipated place, wide-eyed and bursting with excitement. We arrive at his classroom, meet his teacher...only to find that she's not his teacher at all. He belongs in the class *across the hall*, we were informed.
Immediately, I am miffed. This was SUPPOSED to be well planned, and prepped-for, and special for him--and yes, he was perfectly fine, but *my* blood pressure was climbing by the second, because this is a mess, I thought.
So imagine my relief and chagrin when the teacher "across the hall" turned out to be Big C's kindergarten teacher. The one I'd talked to TWO YEARS ago about little C. She'd remembered our conversation, and she'd requested him for her class, but an administrative mix-up in the chaos of last-week-before-school time had resulted him being placed on another teacher's list. When we talked, she told me laughingly that ten minutes before the doors opened, she'd run across the hall and asked the teacher there to simply send him her way when we arrived.
I've never come so close to crying all over a grown woman, y'all. She'd remembered. And he mattered. We mattered. In the end, that's all we needed.
I stumbled through the "here's what's in store and here's your small mountain of paperwork to fill out" preliminaries, we shuffled through the remaining lines and paperwork drop-offs, and headed home.
The chaos I feared never came to fruition - little C remained calm, (relatively) focused, and chipper about the entire process. His mom remained frazzled, but all in all, I'm feeling very positive about this year. Especially with people like his teacher on his team.