New school year, new teacher, new parents meeting. “Tell me what I should know about your son,” asked his new teacher. I started in. Crazy energy, impulsive behavior, he can talk for 12 hours straight without taking a breath, has a tough time sitting still…
Ay. You see what I did?
In my effort to prepare his teacher, I led with the baggage. Because of my ulcer-causing hope for a smooth transition, I put the negative stuff first.
I want a redo.
(You know that sound that sitcoms use when the characters are going back in time, and everyone rewinds at super fast speed? Insert that sound right here, right now. REWIND.)
“Tell me what I should know about your son.”
What you should know about my son is that he is ahhh-mazing.
He is resilient. He is tough. He is a fighter.
He has come so far. (Literally, he’s from China. And figuratively. So both.)
Every smile he offers is a freaking testament to the human spirit. His laughter is a big middle finger to those that said he was too far gone.
His energy is magnetic. I don’t know how to explain this one, but you’ll see. People are drawn to him. (Which is really cool unless you’re that creepy guy at Walgreens who keeps coughing all over us.)
He will make you laugh.
He has a big fan club, a huge cheering section. His village is strong and worthy and awesome.
My kid will be the first one to help if someone is in distress. (He will also shout “CALL 911! CALL 911!” for a paper cut. Just so you know.)
He is sensitive. He is affectionate. He is caring.
He is a good kid. A really, really good kid.
And then, and only then, would I tell her the challenges. They have a place, just not in the front. Note to self – always put the good stuff first.