When I go to enroll Nick in the 7th grade at our local Jr High School, there is a big crowd of excited 7th graders and their parents. Nick gets nervous in big crowds so I’d had him use the bathroom ahead of time, to hopefully prevent an anxiety caused accident. I’ve told him there will be a lot of people, and we will meet his new teacher.
The noise is an animated hum of kids and adults, moving around and waiting in several lines. When Nick gets scared, anxious, or nervous, he’s done talking. I ask if he’s OK, but he ignores me. His hands are flapping and his head is jerking around, and he’s rocking back and forth. Other kids are chattering and happily signing up for band and sports. Nick’s eye’s are half closed. I resist the urge to touch him, knowing he’ll flinch and move away from me.
We find and meet briefly with the counselor, who Nick knows from church, but cannot acknowledge right now, in this stressful setting.
This is my last kid in Jr High. My baby.
We are directed to the classroom where Nick will spend the biggest percentage of time in Jr High. Life Skills. Special Needs. Once we are in the classroom, Nick is visibly more comfortable. Most of his tics and stimming behaviors disappear. Only 3 other people are in the room; the teacher, another mom, and her blind, special needs son. Nick recognizes the boy from his current elementary school class. The room is quiet and comfortable. We wait for them to leave and I try to engage Nick, but he’s still rocking a little and needs a few more minutes. The teacher comes and sits with us and she and I talk. After a few more minutes, Nick is able to answer a couple of yes or no questions. One of the questions involves Nick in a mainstream extracurricular class. He has several choices including choir, several languages, and a couple of art classes. Nick surprises me by insisting on Spanish.
We leave with information about how Nick will be helped in this new school. Busses, classes, peer tutors. Nick will need one. Another student, a typical student, who can assist him in navigating his day and making sense of what is happening.
Then we’re back in the van, on our way home. I have no idea what Nick is thinking. I could ask, but he won’t be able to tell me. I know what I’m thinking. I ‘m flapping in the wind between grieving for the kid he’ll never be, trying to let my last baby grow up, and relief that it looks like a great place for the kid he is. I look over at him. He’s looking at me… well, over my head and off to my left a bit, but I know it’s me .
He says, “Ask Nick if he’s going to like that place.”
So, I ask.
He smiles,” He sure is, Maren!”
Oh. My. Goodness. Nick really is a great kid! And I am amazed at how well you know and handle him. He couldn’t have a better mother. I know, I know, you’ll say yes but I do this or I do that. So what! Everyone does something. Kids have to learn to put up with imperfect parents. That’s part of the test, I think. You are SO GREAT with all your kids. Really. I’ve watched you for all these years and I am amazed at all you know and do for and with your kids.
I loved Nick’s answer at the end. It brought a tear to my eye.
Hi Maren, I’ve been studying vaccine injuries and how they cause injuries including Autism. I’m also studying how to detox the heavy metals and specific nourishment specific to reversing Autism. You and Nick do have remedies to Autism. I hear your pain and frustration and would never interfere with your life. If you would like to know how to reverse this for Nick then please contact me. Much love, Vicki.