It’s almost summer. My oldest will have his last days of Kindergarten next week. There will be a picnic day, movie day, signing autographs, and I am scared! I am so sad about it but also excited for him to move on, learn and grow. But for my youngest, G, I am just afraid that G will not be ready for Kindergarten on time. We decided G will go to ABA therapy full time, Monday through Friday, 9 to 3, starting in two weeks. He’ll do this all summer, and into this fall, if he seems to be happy and responding well. It’s really a lot so we may end up shortening a few of the days but we’ll see.
I just sent a message to one of the preschool teachers to let her know that we aren’t going to be able to come back. That was a message I was dreading to send. I wanted him to go back there so badly. I wanted a bigger piece of that dream of preschool and all the special moments there. It’s with tears in my eyes that I am saying: it’s done. He won’t go there again, and that’s that. This fall he will be at therapy, and next fall in 2020 he is supposed to go to Kindergarten. This next year is all about preparing him and figuring out what’s next. Inside, I am shaking. I want him to experience everything. I want to talk to him. I just want to talk to him. Without pointing, an app, without pictures.
G and I will visit the preschool this Thursday to get the picture that was on his cubby, say goodbye and give hugs. It’s the last day of school for the class he once was in. I am sure we will visit them again later in the year when G has hopefully made some huge, unbelievable milestones. Then I can cry happy tears and reconnect with them. That’s all I hope for.