My little monkey made it through his whole first year of school, ever! WHOO HOO! I’m so, so proud!
For us, this is actually a really big deal. A monumental milestone, in fact. Especially since we didn’t know if he’d be able to go to preschool at all while in his casts for Progressive Infantile Scoliosis.
Here’s my boy with some of his best girlfriends on the last day of school ceremony. All dressed up in their finest, don’t you just love their smashing dresses?
As I mentioned earlier in the year, almost all preschools have a sandbox, often a big honkin’ one that takes up a large portion of the playground.
The only 2 things Bex can’t really do in his plaster body/torso cast are get really wet (swim/bathe or be doused in a a lot of water) and throw sand, as getting sand down the cast could rub and cause a serious “cast sore.”
(Here Bex is nervous because all of the parents are gathering in a room before the kids have their graduation performance. At his last school performance, he cried through the whole thing. Wicked stage fright, man.)
Anyway, a scratch from sand doesn’t sound like such a big whup except that an infected cast sore could cause the casts to need to be removed for a long time and ruin his treatment that we’ve worked so hard to achieve (10 casts and almost 2.5 years.)
Saving his life and spine being more important than non-mandatory preschool, we would’ve picked saving his spine and future. But luckily we found an incredible school and didn’t have to choose.
So for us, this was an especially emotional day. My boy has come so far.
It was emotional for a lot of the parents, I’m sure. Here Bex is with one of his best friends C, whose family is moving away this Summer. I’ll miss hanging out with C’s Mom S in the park.
This is during the kid’s performance and Bex looks like he’s scratching his back or his err…butt. He got this move from his classy Mommy, there is a photo of me at the same age scratching my butt on a school trip, trying to look innocent.
Hard to fight genetics. Sorry, kiddo!
This is sweet little girl C helping my munchkin with where to put his hands. It’s adorable how the girls are always helping my little guy. Ladies’ man, fo sho.
Here another one of his girl friends, F, is helping him to get across the stage when he froze up mid walk. (She also taught him how to do cartwheels this year, an important skill.)
The four year olds “graduated” to go on to Kindergarten, rocking the light blue caps and gowns, while the three year olds like Bex got to participate.
C and Bex holding hands, his shirt now completely untucked. Oh, well. She was taking care of him.
The beautiful little girl on the left above, M, her parents put together a video and photo presentation of memories of the whole year of school, set to music, it was amazing. They gave a copy to each family and we will cherish it forever.
Here cutie patootie “Dora” M (Doesn’t she look like Dora the Explorer?) moves in to hold hands between Bex and C. “Dora” has tons of personality, she’s one of Bex’s bestest friends. She gave him a flower after school every day. Precious.
My boy made it through the whole show, even the funky chicken dance, without crying even once! Sniff. Bex celebrates with cake…
And blows bubbles with “Dora” M.
Bex was never treated any differently at school because of his casts. The students loved, hugged and wholly embraced him. Only one or two children ever even sweetly asked why he wore it. And it’s bulky, heavy and kinda hard to miss.
The teachers loved him as their own, even though he was difficult and hard to handle in the beginning- he had never learned to sit still with a group and follow directions, as an only child and probably extra spoiled by us due to his medical needs, he was used to doing his own thing.
He’s soaring now, and a big part of that is thanks to all of the teachers and the students at his school, and their love for my boy.
It takes a village, and just when my angel needed and deserved a soft landing, we found a cloud with bright, joyful faces and a heartfelt embrace.
Thank you for catching us. You’ll never know how much it meant.