After our crazy jam packed weekend, following two crazy jam packed weeks of appointments, we finally reached what we had been working so hard for and Atti had his first day of school on Monday.

In many ways it was a little anti-climactic. Since Atti’s going in as a Special Ed student, there’s a whole different procedure than a typical student. No lists of school supplies to bring, no instructions of school policy, no orientation. Since Atti’s not starting at the beginning of the school year, we’ve just kind of ended up figuring out what we need to know as we need to know it. Including not having the right start time for the first two days.

Bear and I came together his first day to see how things were going to work, and it’s a good thing we did since there was a lot of figuring out we all had to do together. Atti doesn’t have a wheelchair or anything yet, so we had to bring his stroller in from the car so he has a way he can sit up and be transported around. We knew that the class started with breakfast in the morning, but we didn’t think through that we would need to start a tab for him in the cafeteria. There are so many little details that you take for granted when your kid does things the same way as all the others, but when he doesn’t, then every little detail becomes custom. And that’s a lot of planning and negotiations.

After we left breakfast and got back to the classroom, Bear and I didn’t stick around for long. It became obvious that Atti was distracted by having us there so we said goodbye and went home with tears in our eyes.

Atti’s only had two days of school so far. I got a call on Wednesday morning that he had a fever so I raced down to snap him up and he and I have spent the rest of this week drinking gatorade and wiping our noses. But already he’s telling me about the stuff he’s learned. He’ll show you how he washes his hands by rubbing them together, he’s already answering questions easier, and yesterday he named his colors for me.

It’s bittersweet that he’s already saying words I can’t understand because I have no context for them. It won’t be long before I won’t be his best translator anymore. I have so much faith in his teachers and I’m so excited that he’ll open up to more of the world, but it is sad that that means he won’t be exclusively mine anymore.

Warning: Blurry, unflattering pictures ahead

The guys behind Yo Gabba Gabba are old family friends of ours, but it was still quite a surprise when an email showed up in my box telling us that there were tickets for the Yo Gabba Gabba live show waiting for us at the box office. The only catch was that the show was the very next day. I made a couple of phone calls, dropped everything I had on my schedule, and planned for a day that would blow my kid’s mind.

I’ve had a couple of hassling concert going experiences, so I carefully checked the venue’s website to see what we’d be allowed to bring in – no cameras, no food – and their disability access – really good, easy as pie – and set off. I was a little nervous about taking my little mobility impaired guy to his first concert and wanted to make it as easy as possible. Turned out that I needn’t have worried. We didn’t have any bags checked at all, and every parent around us had their big fancy cameras out. I was totally kicking myself. So instead I just have phone pictures that may just be some of the most unflattering pictures I’ve ever taken.

We got there about 15 minutes late thanks to a major tire blow out on the freeway. My friend Stacey and I woman’ed up and got almost all of the way through the tire change before a dreamy engineer in flannel and work boots pulled over to finish the job for us. That’s one awesome thing about living here, I knew some kind-hearted cowboy would come along eventually.

Then after a bit of ridiculousness involving some ushers who didn’t know how to find any seats and kept trying to stick us in other people’s, we sat down in time to sing along to nearly all our favorite songs from the show. Atti spent most of the show standing on my lap, his mouth and eyes both wide open with amazement, fists in the air and dancing by waving his body back and forth.

After the song about balloons, a bunch of balloons fell from the ceiling and the kids went absolutely bonkers. I used it as an opportunity to demonstrate the obvious gifts of Atti’s hair.

Atti sacked out hard last night, really early. He rocked hard and wore himself right out. I woke up this morning feeling like I had a non-alcoholic hangover. Feeling that worn out after a kid’s concert. I think that’s a sign that I am officially old.

Oh how I wish it was OK for me to bring the camera with me to Atti’s therapy and take pictures of the other kids. Oh how I wish I could introduce you all to this little cohort of boys Atti gets to hang out with as they all get stretched and pulled and taught how to use their little bodies.

When we go to MOVE class on Wednesday’s (which is basically like an adaptive PE class where special ed teachers play with the kids to teach them how to move) there are often other kids coming in and out. Lately there have been three other boys and a little girl, all right around the same age, all with different abilities and disabilities, who get to hang out together. These kids are so dang cute, so curious about each other, and it does my heart so much good to see Atti have peers.

When he goes to church on Sunday, his nursery leaders and the other kids have just been beautiful in how they include him. The little girls especially look after him and the kids fight to be the one to include Atti by sitting next to him or bringing him toys. I really couldn’t have asked for more then what he’s been given.

But, there’s still a difference. He needs those typical kids to show him what he could be doing and to give him the motivation to try, but until lately, he hasn’t seen any other kids that were like him. And I needed to see the kids that were like him to see how typical he really is, just by a different measure.

We’ve started a new technique called Therapeutic Brushing and it’s a little bit magic, I think. It’s complicated and technical, but boiled way way down for us laypeople, I basically give Atti a brushing every few hours as if he were a horse. There’s special brushes to use, and a specific technique, but essentially, he gets a good hard horse brushing every few hours.

There are a bunch of different reasons this works or times when you’d use it, but in Atti’s case it’s about giving his body input. Since the messages can’t get from his brain to his legs, the messages have to go from the legs to the brain, and the brushing stimulates all the nerves that send those messages.

It’s amazing to watch. After a brushing he sits up so much straighter, he doesn’t do some of the defensive behaviors that make our jobs harder, he’s much more active. And the whole time I brush him he giggles over the tickling.

Somebody’s got a personality alright, and it is a contrary one. Notice, if you will, that he did not call me Mama, but he’s got Tresa down like a pro. See how much joy he gets out of giving me the opposite of what I ask for? I’m in trouble.

I’ve had a lot of post going out over the last couple of weeks, so I’ve found myself needing to go to the post office twice a week. Normally this is a chore I leave up to Bear. After a couple horrifyingly memorable experiences trying to steer a stroller through those lines of velvet ropes weaving back and forth, or trying to juggle a baby, packages, keys and other paraphernalia, I decided that going to the post office was a job for Bear.

But now that we moved we live within walking distance to the post office, so when Bear had a super busy day and I had some mail that had to had to had to get out, I put on my big girl pants and womaned up.

I rarely take Atticus on walks, mainly because I am usually unshowered, in my pajamas, and not looking for one more thing to fit into a day. Our version of outside time is to lay on a blanket in the backyard and hope that the neighbors won’t judge me if they noticed I haven’t changed my clothes in a few days.

But I had something that had to get done, so I tossed him in the stroller and beat feet.

It was totally charming. I couldn’t help but notice what a relief it was to take a stroll in the sunshine with my favorite little guy, him shouting “Whee!” every time we went over a curb. We talked about trees and birds and cars and I found my shoulders straightening and the corners of my mouth lifting with every step.

It was so much fun it might actually entice me out of my pajamas on a regular basis.