Last Week was a good week for the boy Stig. He brought home a glowing school report which detailed the incredibly journey of learning and also emotional growth he’s had through the year. We also went on Thursday to watch him receive a school prize at the Prize Giving Ceremony. You’re not told which subject your child is being commended in before the evening so, with anticipation, we thumbed the programme on arrival. Stig’s ability in one particular subject was not being celebrated, no, he was to receive the “Teachers Special Award”. My heart pounded with pride knowing that his teacher also recognised the amazing progress he’s made this year and wished to commend him for it.
To top it all off he’s also had a birthday this week and he’s managed that well too. All the excitement and anticipation has not boiled over into a melt down, he’s enjoyed it, taken guidance and made the most of it.
However, none of this is what most impressed me about my boy. Thursday at Prize Giving we sat packed into a very warm stuffy school hall. The children receiving prizes were asked to sit in a far corner, furthest away from any cool breeze, along school benches. Stig was asked to shuffle into the middle of a tightly packed bench right at the back. I gasped slightly at the thought of him, skin against skin with those other children, feeling their warm limbs against his and in his space. He was to be one of the last children to come up on stage and so in total sat for about forty five minutes cooped up. This would at one point in his life have caused him extreme agitation and unbearable anxiety and yet on that evening he did it. That to me is the true indication of just how far he’s come.
I’ve linked this post to Te Adoption Social #MemoryBox