I Have a Little Shadow

Now that Little A loves school and I no longer need to hang around on-site in case he comes crying and looking for me or just wants to exit the classroom, (all of which he used to do frequently) I hardly know what goes on when he's there. Since he won't tell me about his days, all I can do is drop him off and pick him every day up like a good mother.

Thank goodness for the Shadow Teacher's journal. Again, I only get two mornings a week to read five days' worth of school activities, but it's better than wondering or having to grill an already tired teacher at the end of every school day.

Her very detailed journal chronicles their activities together both in and out of the classroom. I give verbal reports on the latest developments with his various therapists and she tries to incorporate all the efforts into her work with him.

Sometimes he still surprises us. Lately he's typed "hed" for head, "otr" (otter) and "egele" (eagle) into the keyboard. Those were easy enough to interpret, and once I corrected his spelling he didn't get those words wrong again. Harder was "hipots", which turned out to be his version of hippopotamus.

One day I saw that he had spelled "time" with letter tiles, and concluded this was part of what they were learning at school about the calendar. He's been arranging his letter tiles into fours or threes, but never upon command. So he may be getting the concept of quantities, even if I didn't think he listened when I tried to explain them to him.

His Shadow Teacher reports that last week at school, the teachers were trying to determine if he could identify beginning letters by pointing them out when presented with an object. Clearly bored with that simple lesson, he quickly spelled out "corn" (a word no one had ever taught him to spell) when presented with a plastic corncob, then took it and went off to play farmer.

When he wants to get her attention in the classroom he stands in front of her and looks at her face until she makes eye contact with him, and then smiles. He's gone from being annoyed with her to having a classroom buddy to interpret his gestures and babbling.

Non-verbal communication is extremely difficult for human beings. Most difficult for the person who knows what he wants to say, but cannot express it verbally. We've had a recent run of checkups, and I've gotten a pediatric neurologist's number to see if there's anything that can be done to address what may be apraxia or dyspraxia or some other thing I need to read more about. Whatever it is, I pray that one day we discover the key and unlock Little A's mind-mouth connection so he can finally tell us everything he's been wanting to say.

The Darkest Hour

There are all sorts of sayings about having to go through trials before getting a just reward. All sorts of advice, too. From fortune telling to prayer to the alignment of the stars, every belief set has its own sage wisdom.

Still, when you're at that low point, sometimes it seems like it's never going to end. Plans pan out, hopes are dashed; before even drawing breath, you're back at square one.

Big A and I were beginning to wonder if the light was ever going to come. All his professional life, he'd been in the most volatile sector of the finance industry. Well and good if you're young, single, and feeling invincible. Not so when you've got bills to pay and a family to support and one part-time paycheck just won't cut it.

After two major economic recessions, some boom years but just as many, if not more, bust ones, we'd had enough. One must learn from one's mistakes, and our little boy's needs weren't getting any fewer, no matter how thin we managed to stretch what was left in our bank accounts.

Just as we were about to scrape bottom, our prayers were answered. A business opportunity Big A had been studying assiduously for weeks took shape. The loan we needed to take on to make this all happen was approved. Lawyer drew up papers. In a couple of weeks, we will turn a corner and start a new phase of our life together.

It will be hard. It will require keeping those belts tightly notched for half a dozen or so years more until the debt is paid back. But it will keep food on the table and Little A in school and a roof over our heads. And that's all that really matters. All else is just gravy, and we know that if we cook our meat just so, when the time is right, the juices will flow and so we will enjoy that benefit too.

Like Father, Like Son

I love my boys. My constant companions, they are a dynamic duo with a love/hate relationship. (Hate when the little one hogs the iPad and the big one wants his turn, or when the big one says it's time for the little one to get out of the swimming pool - though lately that last task has fallen to me, so I am the villain.)

In some ways they are totally unlike each other, in other ways they are undoubtedly father and son.

Either way, these photos through the years will always be something to treasure.

A Fitting End

Cinemas worldwide will be packed this weekend, as the last film of what is likely to be the bestselling children's book series of all time hits the screens.

Harry Potter has played a huge part in many lives this past decade and a half, least of all my own. My nephew was born the year the first book was published, and read the series as avidly as I did when he was older.

I first heard about the Harry Potter books from my sister's ex-boyfriend. Curious, I bought the first book and found it an interesting read, with strong echoes of Roald Dahl. Upon learning the author was British, I asked my sister, then at university in London, to bring home the second book for me, and the third when it came out in paperback, as they were unavailable in local bookstores at the time.

By the end of Book 3, I realised that Rowling had gone beyond her literary influences and indeed created a world that was nothing less than magical. A first edition Book 4 was my first ever Amazon.co.uk purchase, with a copy that was delivered to my parents' London flat just in time for their return trip to Manila.

With Bloomsbury editions unavailable in my country, (Scholastic has the rights to publish and sell Harry Potter books in America and the Philippines) I had to find other ways to complete my collection. Book 5 was purchased online and brought home by a colleague who was in Singapore at the time of the release. Book 6 was bought at a Hong Kong bookshop (it seems that former UK colonies sell UK editions, and former American colonies sell US ones) when my best friend's family were there on holiday right after it went on sale.

Book 7, being the last, was special. I wanted to be in London, queueing up outside a bookshop for the midnight release, but my life had other plans. Little A was born two days before the final book was launched worldwide, and while my fellow fans spent July 7, 2007 with their noses buried in their books, I was in hospital, nursing and burping a newborn every two hours.

Little A's godmother took my last book home from Edinburgh in time for his christening, a full two months after its release. It was the longest wait I'd ever had to make for a Harry Potter book, but I hardly noticed it, what with colic and nappies and sleeplessness.

When I started reading, in fits as my baby slept, I didn't mind the wait at all. The series got ever better as it advanced, and the ending was no less magical than I had hoped for. These books have been reread numerous times, and will be read again in years to come.

The films are equally memorable, as they chronicle my relationship with Big A quite well. We watched every movie on the first day of release from the same seats in the same cinema until it shut down after the third film, which I had to watch on my own as Big A was at a golf tournament. He knew better the next time though, and made sure he was always free on the day a new movie was released.

We saw the last one today, and I thought it was done just as wonderfully as the book ended. And we do not bid the series farewell, but look forward to Little A enjoying it in years to come.

Fantastic Four

Four years old. This year, for the first time ever, Little A blew out his birthday candles. On the day itself, we fed his classmates and gave them goodie bags, and then had a quiet lunch with his cousins and grandparents at the weekend.

Little A knows birthdays are special, and has been looking over the photographs and watching videos of previous celebrations as if to show us he remembers. He counts on his fingers and smiles sweetly when we get to number four, and sometimes brings us his birthday candle so he can practice blowing it out.

One thing we have noticed is that he is much calmer these days. The time for tantrums seems to have passed (fingers crossed!) and he understands that he can't always get what he wants, when he wants it.

Happy Birthday, Little A. May you stay healthy and happy and continue to grow in all the ways you can. We love you.

Back to School

Little A went back to school last week, and I marveled at how far we have come in 2 1/2 years.

When he started playschool at 16 months, we pulled him out after 3 months, because he couldn't engage with the teachers and didn't seem interested in the group activities. A year later, I enrolled him in a preschool twice a week, and not only were his teachers terrible, he was bullied constantly.

Midway through this first semester, we finally got his ASD diagnosis. He began therapy, but when I asked if he needed a shadow teacher and a more structured school program, his clueless teachers couldn't give me an answer. He spent most of that semester crying, and I gritted my teeth and waited until he moved into the next class, hopefully with better teachers.

When the schoolyear started last year and he started attending classes thrice a week, we were finally advised to find him a shadow teacher, a process that took close to three months to complete. Once they had adjusted to each other and the regular teachers, Little A began to really enjoy school.

By the time classes ended last March, it was difficult to tear him away at the end of a day. He happily attended his summer classes, and come this month, when he has been enrolled for daily classes, he bounces into the room without even waving me goodbye.

While he still has a way to go yet before he will be "big school ready", he has shown great improvements in being able to tolerate sitting with the group, following the class schedule and the like.

Academically, he is ahead of his age group in some ways - reading and spelling, but he needs work with writing. We're working on math skills now, and hopefully he will prove as astute with numbers as he is with letters.

Saying Goodbye to Summer

We managed to squeeze in a single trip before the summer ended. Our regular mountain visit took place the week before Little A went back to school.

This time around, apart from the usual time spent at the day care centre and visits to see horses (he is still afraid to ride them but loves to watch them in action), he discovered Guitar Hero. A pair of big boys were very accommodating, and allowed him to interrupt and then join their music time.

We also visited a museum nearby, and spent plenty of time in the fresh mountain air. Now we are back and ready for a new school year.