This is his school. Or…was. He’ll be in fifth grade in the fall. The fifth-grade rooms are that front pile of rubble on the left.
I was shocked. I’d complained bitterly over the past week as they’d taken down all the 100-year old trees that sat along the front and sides of the school yard, but I assumed that perhaps the roots were getting into the sewers, or the branches in the lines. (I never like to see trees cut down, particularly that old, unless they’re damaged.) But this?
Fortunately I was dealing with Ditto Boy. He hardly noticed, his attention flitting from object to object like a starving butterfly. The other two don’t go to this school; they’re bused to the school with autistic support.
But coming home from camp, Little Miss takes one look and yells, “They’re destroying W’s school!” (Yes, she used the word ‘destroying.’ I didn’t even think she knew it, considering she doesn’t talk half the time. Weird. But hilarious.)
Captain Oblivious then started on a diatribe about why they must be doing it that no one paid attention to after the first couple sentences. We were still overwhelmed by the debris.
I was just really grateful that neither of my kiddos who can’t deal with change attend that school. It would have been the subject of obsession the rest of the summer, even through the new construction that I’m sure is a planned follow-up to the disaster.
Change is just not something we do. Even the impending two weeks with the Cabana Boy’s mother is already a source of stress for Captain O, not because of the visit, but because his grandmother will not let him watch Lost in Space on Thursday nights as we do here. Last summer when they went, she was pretty stirred up when he wouldn’t go to sleep at night because he obsessed about not being able to watch television in the morning (which she doesn’t do–they’re not big on television there, even less so than we are. But if it gets me 20 min more sleep in the morning, I’m all for Spiderman.)
This, of course, gives me some concerns for the upcoming switch to middle school, as well. So far he’s seemed to be pretty low-key about it. The sixth-graders all had a tour of the middle school, saw the 7th and 8th grade classrooms, lockers, etc. The autism support teacher invited us to come the week before school and stay as long as we like, getting familiar with the schedules, the lockers, the changing classes–just the sheer numbers are going to throw him, I’m afraid. We’ll keep our fingers crossed.
At least his school is still there. So far.