Free Hug Friday

I like to spend my free time at my kids' elementary school. It's a happy place, and they usually need a lot of help, so I'm happy to oblige. A few years ago I noticed that there was always a need for substitute teachers, so I got certified and boom! Now I help out at the school and they pay me! Win /Win. 

This winter, I was on a 6 week assignment for a little boy who needed a little extra guidance. Part of my job was waiting for him every morning. He wasn't the most punctual kid. 

So, while I was waiting for him to arrive, I was watching all the kids come into school off the buses. 

Being the shy person that I am, I was able to greet most kids by name. And, this being an elementary school, most of those kids wanted a hug to say "Hello". 

Sure, why the heck not? Mornings are tough on all of us. I know I don't always get a chance to hug my kids as we race out the door. And school is hard. This kids work hard all day. I know, I push them. So why not start the day with a hug. A reminder that you are loved and that you're going to have a great day. 

Free Hug Friday was born. 

Our School Store is open on Friday, so I sat across from the store and offered my free hugs for anyone that needed them. Clearly, it was a hit from the start. 

I had kids lining up for hugs. Kindergarten through 5th grade. And really, 5th graders need hugs too. I have luck hugs too. Kids that get my hugs on Friday mornings do better on spelling tests and book presentations. Teachers need hugs too. Free Hug Friday is for everyone. 

When my assignment was up, and I was thinking of sleeping in on Friday, I couldn't do it. Kids in the bus line on Thursday afternoon would remind me that Free Hug Friday was tomorrow. Done. 

I'm in it. 

Now it's summer. I don't get to see the kids every Friday. But, when I'm in a restaurant and 2 little kids come charging at me for their free hugs I smile and tell their parents about Free Hug Friday. 

They usually already know. 

I fucking love my job.

Shouldn't We All Have An IEP?

This winter we had awesome news: Jonny would no longer need an IEP (Individual Education Plan) in school for the time being. He is doing better with transitions, his speech has improved so he can (and does! Holy shit!) communicate with his friends, and his motor skills are improving so he doesn't need help to perform school tasks. 

Now, don't get me wrong, we still have to do. Jonny uses absolutely all of his energy during the day to focus in school. To handle those transitions, to speak in public, to work in groups, to make and keep eye contact. So by the end of the day, he is toast. He needs half an hour every day, minimum, of "Jonny time". Time where he can be himself and there are no expectations. Quiet time. No expectation time. And we give it to him, because that's what he needs. And it's OK that he works hard in school. He should. That's his job.  And we help make his job as easy as possible, on all of us. That means we wake up 2 hours before we leave for school, so the transition is smooth and not rushed. No one is nice when mornings become an emergencies. Especially little boys who really don't like wearing shoes. Or pants.

Also, Jonny still does not tie his shoes or ride a bike. The former hurts him (too tight) and the latter is still too difficult. So, for the time being, we don't push. There is not a requirement to ride a bike or tie your shoes to graduate high school. Believe me, I asked. Really. I did.

But still, this IEP thing is a big deal. My baby hates being singled out, hates attention, so to no longer be pulled out of class for another class is a big deal for him. It's also a big deal for me. 

I'm not a huge fan of labels. I know my kid is different, but we all are. I don't need a piece of paper to tell me my kid needs a little attention, and nor should anyone else. Every kid needs individual attention, despite the what it says on their "permanent record". No kid can fit in a box. And we shouldn't try to put them there. In my opinion, we should all have IEPs.

I say it often. School was not made for introverts. I don't think I ever knew that until I started raising one. Group projects, public speaking, even fucking recess! Everyone has to get along all the damn time. And if a kid want to be by himself, he's weird, or "special". That sucks, because even though this is the world and I firmly believe that my kids have to adapt to it, it's also OK to do your own thing. Or it should be. I

So there we are. Jonny's a regular kid. Newsflash 

The best part though is that he had no idea he was ever any different. 

Now lets just keep hoping they make big velcro shoes.

Summer

Every year, I take the kids and we leave our suburban enclave for the wilds of West Virginia.
Now, don't get me wrong. We are not in a cave in the woods. We are in an air conditioned, pimped out cabin in the woods. With a hot tub. I may love the woods but I'm not a savage. When hanging out with no one but your kids and your grandmother in law for 6 weeks, mama needs the hot tub.

So we do this for several reasons. The first reason I started it was the air. 3500 feet is my wheelhouse. Not too thin, not too humid. Just right. I don't have to hide inside in the AC all day or attach myself to my nebulizer. I can be an active parent to my active kids, which I kind of like to do. Most of the time.

The next reason is money. Despite the cost of renting a house for 6 weeks, it's actually cheaper than sending my kids to camp all summer. My kids need structure. They need a schedule. Especially Jonny. If that boy does not know what to expect every day, then we will have a meltdown when trying to get from A to B. If we were home, we would be be busy. And we would spend money to either be in camp, or do stuff. Renting the house, and being outside where we can hike, ride horses, and play every day, actually turns out to be cheaper than staying home. Plus I get to be involved. Camp Mommy. Yahoo.

Now the reason we keep coming back, the people. We have made a second home in West Virginia, and it has nothing to do with a physical structure. The people here care about myself and my family. When Jonny or Sydney struggle on a trail, they struggle. When they lead a trail ride for the first time, they all triumph. And they understand. They get it. They don't judge. Having one kid who is type A and another kid with a sensory processing disorder is not a walk in the park.
We make a big freaking deal about muddy books and celebrate mistakes. And they help.
I love the friends we've made in West By God. And I'm pretty sure they love us. And that, my friends, makes a kick ass summer, not sand in your toes.