Rites of Passage

Thursday was Weston Roberts’ first day of kindergarten. Mom Jenna dropped him off at the carpool line and went home to fret. She needn’t have but of course that’s what mothers do. Everything went fine and Weston had a blast. Grandmother Lynne remembers her own first day. One of the nuns had to carry her in kicking and screaming. There was none of that with Weston. He and Jenna had rehearsed, visited the classroom, met the teacher and her aide, and looked in at the “education support” room the school set aside just in case. Despite a moment of confusion with so many children arriving he found his aide and made it into class without incident. Weston’s autism qualifies him for extra help but he attends the regular class. It’s an all day session but for now he will only go half days. He still sees his therapists who have been working with him for four years now. That won’t change. We are grateful to have them. Weston came home from school and promptly recited Hey Diddle Diddle for Jenna. She has no idea where that came from. He can also count to one hundred ten and say grace for his grandmother over the phone. He plays the piano beautifully, knows his letters, and has begun to read. Except for the music all of those things are new just since we saw him a few weeks ago. Even then we noticed a change. His cousin dumped water over his head in the pool and you could hear a collective intake of breath from the adults nearby. We all thought he would go ballistic. He hates getting his head wet but didn’t bat an eye. Cousins can get away with stuff like that. Jenna and husband Chris couldn’t be happier about the staff at school. Schools are seeing more children with autism, know more about what to expect from them, and are better prepared to deal with it. The people who interact with Weston are quite competent and are obviously taking pains to see that his school experience starts off on a positive note. They know about his music. The teacher’s aide even brought her own keyboard from home in case Weston should need something to calm him down. I don’t mean to imply that Weston is a child prodigy on the piano. He didn’t begin playing Mozart at age three or anything but he does love it. He never banged on the board the way toddlers typically do but always picked out discrete notes. He has an unusually refined sense of rhythm and harmony. He gets that from his mother’s side. It does calm him. We think it will always be an important part of his life and that is a very good thing. Weston will be six next month. He still has a lot of work to do. He isn’t very conversational. It’s much easier for him to repeat something he has memorized than to organize thoughts into words. When he wants something he would rather take you by the hand and show you than ask for it. But he enunciates clearly, has no trouble understanding spoken language, and most of his physical issues seem either behind him or he has learned to deal with them, as with the wet head. He thoroughly enjoys being with other children but he is still easily over excited and can have a lot of trouble when things don’t go well. He recognizes it in himself and you can see him fighting to control it. On big days like Thursday as Chris likes to say, Weston rises to the occasion. We are proud of him.