What 7th, 4th, & 1st Graders Look Like

Here's what our trio looked like when they hit the first day of school two weeks ago. Can you believe we have such tall children in this house? Iz's head fits right under my chin, Leelo can put his head on my shoulder when he sits next to me, and Mali -- she is enjoying the last days of being hip-hoistable. Sob.

Iz: 7th grade. Middle school for real. Tough caring teachers with x-ray vision when it comes to excuses. I hope she will thrive rather than crumple. I may be needing to unearth some of my crusty former cheerleading skills on her behalf. She is surprisingly nonchalant about our never really having time to go back-to-school shopping, and wearing last year's clothes and shoes on her first day back. In her stead I would have Lost. My. Shit. Completely. Good for her.

Leelo: 4th grade, in The World's Greatest Autism School. So far, everything is peachy. We will need to meet with his teachers to fine tune some matters of visual supports, etc., but Leo comes home from school happy every day. He also is harness-free for the first time in his short bus commuting career (though he now rides in a van). Even cooler -- guess who commutes with him? Jennyalice's Jake. Planets aligning. It is too cool. Jen says Leelo giggles every morning when he arrives at their house to pick up Jake, and sees a bunch of his favorite people waiting. His 1-month new school IEP is coming on the 22nd, and Seymour and I have a lot of prepping to do to make it a productive, team-building, Leo's best interests event. Onus on us. Heh.

Mali: 1st grade, with Iz's stern but fair and loving Galician teacher from 2nd grade. Who is not letting our beloved little monster getting away with a damn thing -- thank GOD. Though this did mean Mali spent her first two weeks complaining about hating school. She even tried out a good cry about not wanting to go to school, one morning (she got sent in anyhow). Now Mali says she likes class, even though it is really hard to sit at tables and do all that work and not play so much. Sigh.

I'm glad they're back in school. They're glad they're back in school. But wow, what a summer. Can't believe it's already over -- and even though it almost killed me, I miss it already.

And I can't believe we have such tall children. When did this happen?

A Letter to Leo's Teacher

Maudlin But True Week continues here at Squidalicious.com, with an open letter to Leo's teacher that I wrote on request for the buttkickerinistas at BlogHer as part of their Back to School campaign:

A Letter to My Child's Teacher

It is all about naked swooping emotions and dreams and hopes, so bring your hanky or feel free to roll your eyes (I vascillate, personally). Leave a damn comment -- there or here but there preferred. And there's a nifty tool at the end called Mr. Linky that lets you link to your own letter as well, should you (and yes you should) choose to write one and make it part of the post.

I will write that, after one week in his new third grade class, everything I've written about the teacher and Leo's potential in her class seems to be marching along. He had a lovely first week, with "0 transition issues" on the second day. I am wishing for similar success stories for all of your children as this 2009-10 school year ramps up.