
Once in the kitchen we sat at his table and chairs, each with our "Yummy Cake", and sang along to our favorite Roger Day CD and Oliver snorted with laughter, as he does everytime, at the song about kissing a Rhino. Afterwards, I found his toy bus that reminds him that today is a bus day, then I wrote in his communication book -- "PM: Oliver played with Luke, took a bath and went to bed in a good mood at 8pm. AM: Woke at 6:30 smiling and happy." We then waited for the bus together sitting on the porch step in the brisk morning air. When it arrived he got on without hesitation and just a short look back at me from the top step. His look was neither fearful nor happy and as the doors closed and he took his seat I couldn't help but wonder what riding the bus is like for him. He is only on the bus for about five minutes -- you can practically see the school from our house -- but he has always liked buses ("That's a bus!" is one of his few phrases) so we thought it would be a positive way to start each day. Seeing that look though made me wonder; It's troubling to me when I can't read him.
Nik typically picks Oliver up from school at noon but I had some extra time today so I went to watch him on the playground. Lindsey was there and she has a real talent for drawing Oliver out. Today he was running with some of his classmates around the castle, up the ladder and down the slide. After coming down, the kids stood looking up inside the bright yellow tube covering the slide and laughing as the next child whooshed out. It has been so long since Oliver even acknowledged other children that I kept squinting to make sure that it was really him. And it was! There was the boy with the killer smile playing on the playground. As we were leaving Lindsey reported that Oliver was "Mr. Verbal" today and that he had no trouble transitioning from the bus to the classroom. I was particularly happy about this last thing because a walk that should take 5 minutes has sometimes taken Oliver forty-five. And finally, when we got home this evening, after Oliver had spent the afternoon at his "Gram's House", he came right in, sat down, took off his shoes and socks and then went off to play as if it were nothing.
Now I don't know why some days seem so good and full of progress and other days are, well. ... not. But we've had our string of Very Bad Days lately -- days when strangers have looked at me and I'm sure they were thinking: "Lady, can't you do something about your kid!" And days that I can't even write about because I can't find the humor in them yet -- so I think we were about due to have this one Very Good Day. And I feel sure that it will carry us through until the next one, which can't be long to follow.
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