On Saturday morning, Kurt kept crawling into our cat kennel and asking me, in so many words, to lock it. (I know, I know. "Woman Locks Her Disabled Son Into Cat Cage" is a national news story waiting to happen. I promise this is not a regular thing.) I did get a picture, though, mostly because I was so impressed that he could fold himself up enough to fit in there:
Sometimes, I think Kurt really wishes he were a cat. (Who among us hasn't?)
He lost a front tooth this week. I was worried about this, because I was afraid he wouldn't be nearly as cute with missing teeth. I worried in vain.
So…..kindergarten. Yeah, it's happening. The first day I dropped him off, I was so crazy nervous. It must have showed, because the special ed teacher called me at 10:30 specifically to tell me it was going just fine. As for Kurt, he was a little panicky that first day, following me when I tried to leave and saying "No goodbye to Mommy?" in his hopeful little voice. I wouldn't say he was sad, really. It was more like incredulity. You mean you were serious about all that kindergarten crap??
The special ed teacher, Melissa, stuck pretty close to him that first week, and has gradually been stepping back as he learns the routine, letting the regular kindergarten teacher and classroom aides take over. But she still meets me everyday when I pick him up to give me a quick word, and I have to say, I just love this chick. We may have done something right by moving to the rustic tidewaters of Virginia.
But there's more! Approximately forty-eight hours before the start of kindergarten, Kurt decided to start using the potty for BOTH numbers! It was astounding. Jeff deserves most of the credit for this. Really, as a dad, he can pretty much ride this accomplishment until we get to driver's ed, that's how big this is.
Anyway, Kurt continues to impress us with his little spurts of maturation. A few weeks ago he finished his sippy cup of water. As we watched, he unscrewed the top, went over to the faucet to refill it, then screwed the top back on and took a swig. Which prompted Jeff to turn to me and sob,"He doesn't need us anymore!"
Here he is drawing "trees."
His writing appears to have gotten clearer overnight, and he especially loves to write numbers.
Oh, numbers! How he adores them. He's figuring out all the cool ways one can count, and he's no longer content to just count by boring consecutive singles. Not when he can count by twos, fives, tens, fifties, and hundreds!
Of course there cannot be awesomeness without suckiness. His meltdowns, when they come (usually immediately post school) are fierce. He's bruised his head from banging it so hard, broken toys from throwing them, and terrorized Maria with screaming and pushing. We cut therapy down to three days a week in the hope that more play time will equal more stable moods, bu I just don't know yet. He's back in his bed all night for the first time since we left Canada (!), but a minimum of once a night he wakes up in a terror ("MommyMommyMommy!"). After the third such panic episode I ususally just crawl in with him.
But this is life with an adorable, anxious boy, and he's worth it.