A Very Different Monday

Yes, I’m writing this on an Monday! My little Pwdin has crashed early and is tucked up in bed. How long he’ll stay that way is anyone’s guess. Tommorrow nursery begins.

He’ll be attending a school for profoundly disabled children three full days (9 til 3) one week and two days the next. Most nursery placements are five half days a week, but my Pwd, like a lot of his school-mates-to-be, will be getting various therapies  (like OT and speech therapy) and special transport to get there.

Though he can walk, run and leap tall buildings, he has a special needs buggy. Trying to go anywhere with him on foot is impossible. He’ll either want to touch the top of every car tyre he passes or not want to move at all. He has a bit of a problem keeping shoes and socks on his left foot. Actually, it’s not a problem – he just likes to take them off.  So, it’s for his and other children’s safety that he’ll be going on the special bus in his buggy which the driver will clamp to the vehicle’s floor. I’m relieved about this.  I had been tormenting myself with the idea and visions of him running away as soon as the  doors were opened. He is pretty fleet of foot.

It was just about an hour ago that it struck me that things are really changing and that nursery and school, for my boy, aren’t going to be like they are for other children. I’m glad of that in many ways.  Parents whose children are entering mainstream would be envious of the relationships we have built up with Pwd’s teachers via the school’s family centre. They’d be jealous of the adult:pupil ratio (which is 5:8) and of the  facilities to which  he’ll have access.

I suppose, like many Mams tonight, packing their child’s bag for their very first day at school I got, more than a bit, emotional. It wasn’t only the very act of doing it that got to me but the items I was carefully putting in his super cute, bright red, dragon rucksack, or rather, what wasn’t going in.  No lunch box and not even any food. Two bottles of paediasure (presciption only liquid meals), formula milk,  teats and collars and a couple of very large nappies. Packing his catalogue – he’ll go nowhere without one – did make me smile again.



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