September 12, 2017

The same gods I cursed as a child, the gods of autumn (aka the going-back-to-school gods) are on the top of my list of who to thank, bless, and make a sacrifice to. I’ve been saved and therein, I think, our family has been saved, by the return of routine and the sharing of responsibility and love (and fury) by the saints of the world, teachers.  

Nevertheless, I hope to keep my promise to children everywhere, no matter how old, cranky and out of touch I may grow never to ask (as the last days of summer get sucked through a Slurpee straw) “Are you excited to go back to school?” Dash goes to one of the best schools in the whole wide world and when asked that question by some unsuspecting grownup, looks to me ruefully for a clue as to how to say politely, “Hell, no!”

And I understand and I remember. I wouldn’t trade freedom (even with the boredom/loneliness of it) for structure, sharing, listening, washing my hands, co-operating, walking and not running, no matter how much fun.  

So really, this is our time to celebrate since it affords us the opportunity to share our Dash difficulties (renamed “challenges”) with some of my favorite people around:  Dash’s head of school and his teachers.

Since having Dash, I’ve refined my fantasy of having a weekly (Daily? Hourly?) award ceremony in which I get to stand at a podium with my hair in an updo,  and speak far too long—prompting the music to swell  to signal STOP!  In this daydream, I tearfully thank the people in my life who have helped with Dash, in words that are generally only attributed to doctors in movies about (nearly) incurable diseases, and the fairy in Sleeping Beauty, who is able to exchange the princess’s death sentence for a hundred-year snooze.   

No updo here, nor anyone really listening but still thank you... you know who you are.