One of the kids I have in my group has some real behavior challenges, and he's always saying "I don't like...", "No, Anne", and "Anne's not feeling well" (when he wants me to be sent home!). I had just put him in his third break in a row and when he said it again, I just put my head on my knees, and he put his arm around my neck and said "Hi, Anne." His eyes were pleading and I realized that I just cannot show frustration, because he can't help it. I just have to try a new road with him. At recess he and I had such a nice conversation, and he looked me in the eyes and asked me questions and answered my questions. He slays me.
On a hugely positive note, one of the more severely affected kids in our class made a huge breakthrough today, when it was discovered (through pointing to words) that he could read.
When his aide told me, at the end of the day, and then showed me the note he wrote (with her help) to his mom, I burst into tears.
Then to top it off, I get to come home to my kid, my sweet, happy boy, who is starting (don't tell him though) to love first grade. He snuggles next to me on the couch and tells me about everything, and I am so happy I could pop. It's a far cry from last year when getting him to tell me what went on was like pulling teeth. He's even picked up on the book he started writing last spring break called "A Cat's Adventure." He found the pages he'd started back in April, and looked at his words and said "Mom, I was sort of a babyish writer in kindergarten, wasn't I?"
These kids will be the death of me.