I arrived at school today laden with backpacks and lunch boxes and kids, and one extra bag.
In it, I had placed several books Sophie’s (finally) outgrown: one with signs for animals, another “touch and feel” and two musical books that she’d still play with if I let her. (I just had to retire the Wiggles book that plays excerpts of their songs. That part of this deed, I must admit, was not an act of kindness.)
I also tucked a piece of paper inside, with the following:
My name, phone number and email address; the name and number of Sophie’s support coordinator at the state’s developmental disabilities department; information about the touchy-feelier of the two local Down syndrome support groups in town; and the direct number for the principal at Sophie’s pre-school.
I found the mom and handed her the bag, amidst apologies. (As it turns out, I’d already given the “Signing Time” videos I promised her to someone else.)
We’ll see what happens.
Sophie was her finest ballbuster self this morning — running away, talking back, insisting she was going to attend second grade today — and all I could think was that the other mom must be thinking, “Well, if that’s where all that school and therapy got that kid, why bother!”
I may be self-conscious, but I do know why I bother. As soon as Sophie saw Ms. X, she calmed right down, took her backpack and lunch box, and marched into the classroom and the day ahead.