Lost in transition

We are transitioning. Formally. Because its not as if we've been static since the first day of school. But we've decided on a school placement, a timeline, and Elmer's first visit to the new site is right now. He is there for the afternoon with his beloved teacher.

We (well, I) visited school after school; private, public, charters. The only place that looked a perfect fit was full and Elmer had to move yesterday. So all the grand poo-bahs (a team of 13, including the District Sped Director) gathered round a table, discussed the options, and decided. He is moving to a custom-tailored program at our neighborhood Jr.High. And it will be customized unlike anything they've done before.

As the principal of his Magnet School told the poo-bahs, "There is no ready-made setting that works for Elmer. Even special ed settings must be tailored. Elmer will challenge you. He challenged me. And he made me a better principal."

"Anonymom," said the Sped Director, turning to face me, "What can we do to win back your trust?"

"The proof is in the pudding," I told her, "He needs to succeed."

Elmer, meanwhile, is entirely appropriate. Last night, when I asked if were nervous about the move, he shrugged and said, "I'm happy."

Before he got on the bus this morning he asked me to tell him jokes, which I did. Then he muttered, "I don't want to go to neighborhood jr. high this afternoon."

Then the bus pulled up and off he went.

But I, ladies and gentlemen, am even better than a girl scout. I am an auti-mom, so I am preparing a Plan B.