It has been over a year since my last blog and I
feel it's a shame to let so much time pass before writing because I love to do
it. In addition, there are so many victories and obstacles that Hudson has
overcome that it feels like a shame not to share. I've also found that as I
work out my own struggles, frustrations, and hurts; it has the potential to
encourage others so it's a shame not to express. So with that said, I’d like to
invite you into the hurt of my mommy heart from yesterday.
Hudson has been a part of a typical “transitional
kindergarten” class. There aren’t any specially trained teachers, there aren’t
any other children with special needs, and it’s not a specialized program for
kids with autism. It’s just a typical pre-k class to help prepare the kids for
kindergarten. Now he still has an IEP (Individualized Education Plan) and there
is an aid that checks on Hudson through the week, but for the most part Hudson
has been “mainstreamed.”
To be honest, I wasn’t thrilled when this classroom
environment was suggested. Going from a classroom that caters to your needs
into an environment where more responsibility is expected of you is a HUGE
transition. The only reason we landed on this setting was because for the first
30 days of the school year, Hudson was in a special “autism class” and the
teacher noticed quickly that he wasn’t being challenged. It was definitely a
good problem to have because that means that Hudson is excelling, but I had no
idea how he would do in a fully typical classroom setting. To my surprise,
Hudson has been doing well! It’s taken a few weeks to get acclimated to the new
routines and to understand what’s expected of him (he now has homework!) but he
loves his new class. He still has some behavioral and social struggles that sometimes
make him a disruption to class, but I’ve been working with the teacher for
techniques to correct and re-engage his attention. And every once in awhile, he
has a rough time at recess with “unkind hands.” But when those negative reports
come home (usually in the form of a piece of paper with a picture of a sad
face), we remind him the importance of kindness and tell him that he can try
again tomorrow. Which brings me to my mommy hurt from yesterday.
As I was walking Hudson to class yesterday, I overheard
a girl from his class talking to her older brother about Hudson. My ears perked
up when I heard his name. She said, “That boy’s name is Hudson…we don’t talk to
him because he’s mean.” I know why she said it. Hudson was sent home with a sad
face the day before for hitting. But I so desperately wanted to plead Hudson’s
case with this 5 year-old girl. I wanted her to know that when he got his sad
face, he was devastated and talked all day about trying again. I wished I could
explain how much he has had to overcome to even be able to attend class with
her! I wanted to tell her that he is one of the most tenderhearted boys I know!
I wanted her to know that that’s what he did, but that’s not who he is! In a
gentle, explanatory way I managed to say to her, “You know sweetie, we’re
working really hard with him to teach him how to be a kind friend.” I dropped
Hudson off, reminded him to be a kind friend, gave him kisses, and cried on my
drive home. My heart was hurting for my boy who didn’t even realize he was isolating
himself. He was just as happy as ever to be in class again and to be able to
try again.
As I got home, I processed with Sean and I
processed with God. And like He always does, God comforted my mommy heart by
giving me a picture of how He feels about his own kids – us. I felt him saying
to me, “Sarah, I’m also desperate to remind my kids that that’s what you did,
that’s not who you are!” I felt like God was saying that his heart breaks too
when we believe that our behavior determines our identity. It keeps us in the
bondage of shame and guilt. It perpetuates the lie that we’ll never be any
different – even if we want to be. We can get stuck in a pattern of bad choices
because we don’t think there is anyone who believes we can be more. But God
does. He is our advocate. He is the whisper in our ear telling us not to give
up. He is the one who forgives when we make a bad decision and hurt others.
He’s the one that says let’s try again…because that is ONLY what you did, it is
NOT who you are!
