got to admit

How does that Beatles song go? Not the one about Scandinavian trees, but the one with the line, "I've got to admit it's getting better, a little better all the time." That's school right now. Day two involved just one timeout, at lunchtime. Day three had no timeouts, but did include a meltdown at "grooming time," when the whole class brushes their teeth and washes their cute little faces. Because he had no timeouts today, Martin got a reward of chocolate ice cream.

Today was important not only because Martin made progress at school, but also because he met a new friend. Let's call him Jake. As far as I can tell, Jake is a sort of play therapist. He works with all sorts of kids on the autism spectrum. Somehow, ostensibly because he's going through a school transition, Martin qualifies for some time with Jake. (Don't tell my insurance company that my kid's autistic. That's just between you and me.)

Martin had his first appointment with Jake today. They played some games. They worked on things like taking turns, putting things away at designated times, and talking about feelings. I got to sit in on the last 15 minutes of the session. Martin didn't do everything Jake asked, but he enjoyed working with him. And when Martin and I got ready to say a prayer before supper, I asked Martin what he was thankful for. "Jake," he replied. I just had to squeeze him.

Things aren't perfect at school. I'm really glad that the teacher works on "grooming." It's a huge challenge for Martin. He doesn't want to get haircuts, have his fingernails trimmed, or (I hate to admit) wipe his bottom. I'm thrilled that a teacher is working with Martin not only to learn to read better, but also to stretch him in the areas where the real world is the hardest for him. I'm hoping that if I send his favorite toothpaste along, things might get easier.

By June, I hope we'll be singing about strawberry fields.