Moving Up: Part II

Though Asher’s freak out felt monumental at the time, the dust settled, and we all had a good night sleep. Our drive to pre-school was uneventful. Asher usually fills the journey with “What happens” questions. He’s not a “Why” kind of kid. He’s less concerned with explanations and more focused on cause and effect.

Ultimately, I think he’s trying to manage his own expectations while looking for constant reassurance that everything’s going to be alright. I get that. That’s my M.O., too. Just tell me what’s going to happen even if it’s bad news so that I’m prepared. He hasn’t quite learned to focus on the big ticket subjects like “What happens if we continue to occupy Afghanistan?” That day’s topics were, “What happens if we have to live in a purple house?” and “What happens if a police officer sees someone changing lanes without using the directional?” His questions were particularly significant that day because I was still processing the kindergarten screening freak out. Obviously, the boy needs to know what’s around every corner because new things are scary. These questions also reminded me that Mom is an idiot for expecting any behaviour other than the kind he demonstrated on that emotional day.

Eventually, I artfully segued into a conversation about the screening. “So, how about we go back to school and do the screening?” Artful, no? Asher didn’t skip a beat. “Ok.” “Great. We’ll go this afternoon.” I knew better this time. I decided not to assume that we would make it there or that he would actually participate. I left it alone.

After I picked him up from school, we had about 2 hours until the next available screening slot. Asher was looking forward to his do-over. “Mo-om! When are we going back to school? I wish we could just go to school already.” I told myself not to listen. He may sincerely be excited about going to school, OR he might be over compensating for the terror building up inside-a more likely explanation. I said nothing. “Can I bring my new bicycle bell to show the teachers?”

“Oh, why did he get a new bell?” asked my sister Rachel during a phone call that was interrupted by the constant ringing of the bell. “Because Mommy is unemployed and can’t help amusing herself by buying crap for the children every time she runs an errand.”

The bell says ‘I ♥ My Mom’ on it. “HE picked it out!” Gabriella swore when I gave her a look that said, “Really??”

That afternoon’s screening was a family affair. Mom, Mommy, Asher and little brother Levi would all attend round 2 of “Asher’s Kindergarten Screening”. There was no time to revisit strategy. Once again, promises were made. We’d all go out for dinner together and have ice cream afterwards when and only when Asher completed his screening.

I was calm-or did I mistake calm for completely drained. So what if he couldn’t get through the screening? He’d still be at kindergarten in the fall. If he flips out, we’ll just turn around and go home.

As soon as we opened the school doors, that little bugger marched right over to the registration table and presented his bicycle bell to the teachers. “WELL, HI!!" They welcomed him with surprised smiles. "We’re so happy you came back!” At least he’s memorable. Asher demonstrated how his ‘I ♥ My Mom’ bell worked, and the teachers pretended to be very interested. “Do you want to tell them your name?” I asked under my breath. “I’M ASHER!” “Excellent, Asher!” said the teacher. “I’ve got your folder right here, and I want to introduce you to April. She’s going to play some games with you in her classroom.” April extended her hand and that little shit took it without a second of hesitation. As they walked down the hallway on their way to April’s classroom, I stood and watched – dumbfounded.

“I can’t believe it.” I said to Gabriella unable to take my eyes off of Asher. “I can’t even tell you how possessed he was yesterday.

“I know.” She said. “I’ve been there, too.”

Mostly, I was relieved. He would be screened, after all, and the teachers would remember a delightfully, sweet boy. But a small part of me wanted to kill him. Such angst. Such drama. How dare he put me through the ringer one day and be completely happy and compliant the next.

After his screening, April and Asher returned holding hands – both smiling big. “Look, Mama! I got a bear sticker, and I got another one for you.” “Thank you, Asher.” It was the My Kid Put Me through Hell And All I Got Was This Lousy Sticker prize. Never mind. He did it, and he wasn’t traumatized...well at least not as traumatized as I was.

We all held hands and left the building triumphant. Asher shared with us his thoughts surrounding the entire experience. “Today I was nice. Yesterday, I was not nice.” Gabriella and I burst out laughing. “We love you always- even when you’re not nice, but we’re glad you had a good day, today.”