Sunday, January 13, 2008

Edda's school.

On my day off, I went to Edda's school to spend some time observing her classroom. This is a critical difference between Edda's school and Vince's school. In Edda's you observe and in Vince's you volunteer.

Much to my former stay-at-home mom self's chagrin (when I dropped off each child into the arms of a waiting teacher), I have let the whole fall semester pass by and still haven't gotten to know Edda's classmates or the aides in the classroom. I was determined and prepared this time; I listened carefully during circle time and wrote everyone's name down in my little don't-forget-these-things notebook.

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Usually, I don't dwell on the fairness of Edda's situation. I have spent many hours in many classrooms pre-motherhood understanding DNA and how the chromosomes split and twist together. I understood that there was a chance that a particular guanine wouldn't show up when his name was called, wrapped up in the moment the sperm met the egg, and that I was not immune to this randomness.

It's just that when I'm in a classroom full of kids who drew the short stick and they are surrounded by teachers and aides who patiently coax the best out of these kids everyday that I'm both happy and sad at the same time.

6 comments:

Nancy Bea said...

Oh Doris, I really understand. I ,too , don't get caught up in the unfairness and why-us?-ness of the special needs situation. But once in a while, usually in just such a situation as you describe it can sure choke you up. I remember one mother's day event at Henry's preschool when I had to leave the classroom and go sob (silently so as not to scare anyone) in the ladies room for a few minutes.

sherah said...

I'm so glad you guys care so much even if it sometimes means being sad for your children. You are there and you care and that is all that matters. I can't help but think about a little girl I would work with who lives in an orphanage. She would come to school every morning and for a good week she'd drive us nuts asking everyday when was lunchtime. Finally, it dawned on the head teacher this little girl is dropped off via a van that makes several stops at various schools because the girls are all different ages and different capabilities at the orphanagae. We were her third school in 2 years. She was supposed to be getting free breakfast at school. She was hungry and somehow it slipped through the cracks at the orphanage to tell the teacher. The day that I worked at the school and it was her birthday just about killed me. Every birthday is special when you are in kindergarten. The moms bring cookies or cupcakes and the child just feels great to have their parent at school. But this little girl didn't have anyone to do that for her. The teacher quietly asked another mom to bring something in and we made a big deal as best we could. So, from my vantage point all I can say is thank goodness to both of you for being there for your children. I know there are sad, tough, tough days. But you love your kids and that is simply the most wonderful thing in the world. It means so much to those of us who have to take up the slack for those kids who have no one. You are so appreciated.

Noel said...

Doris, don't feel sad. She is a wonderful gift from the far above. I have learned a lot from her already - I am humbled.

Rena said...

Fact is that life is not fair. You are doing your best.

Love, Mom

KellyButler said...

There are days I seem to "camp out" in the "life is not fair" area of the world. I bet we all do!

Rena said...

On the other hand, life is pretty fair. Every one has to eat, to sleep, to go to work, to retire and getting old. Some people think go to work is no fun and it is more fun if do not have to go to work. If every day were Sunday or Saturday, there will be no difference between weekdays and weekends.