Last week we took the kids to a "Taste of Thailand" evening at one of the local churches. We enjoy all things Thai of course, so we went. There was food, info booths, a presentation, and an information scavenger hunt. It was fun! And the food was yummy.
Today I went to Matthew's classroom for a parent/teacher interview. He is doing fantastic. He jumped ahead three reading levels in eight weeks, his math is consistently the highest in the class, his spelling tests are between 85 and 100% (more often in the high 90s), his printing is tidy and he writes copious amounts in his journal about his life and things he's excited about. Whereas last year he was a one or two sentence maximum kinda guy. His speech is making leaps forward in how articulate he is, how well he can communicate, his vocabulary has expanded overnight, and he is incredibly responsible and well behaved in the classroom. He earned a "4" on his report card for Social Development: respects his workspace and the classroom environment. HELLO? MY MATTHEW GOT A FOUR. IN RESPECTS OTHER PEOPLE'S PROPERTY. THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT. Yes. Yes. And yes.
His teacher and I reveled in Matthew's success. We were giddy for him. And then she pulled out his journal and said, "I just want to show you something he wrote last week." And I read:
I am levl 2!
I went to a Tiy tast at a churkch and I like the sik ris and mago and I mis my fmle I had Komy pakjow and naydo and my Dad hav wr all in Tiyland and thay wr my frst famle in may life and I mis my frst famle.
I am level 2!
I went to a Thai taste at church and I like the sticky rice and mango. And I miss my family. I had Kuhn-Mae (Thai mommy), Pak-Jo (Thai sister), and Puh-Pae (Thai brother) and my Dad. We were all in Thailand and they were my first family in my life and I miss my first family.
I cried. Right there, in the classroom, without shame, I cried so hard. This little boy, this child of my heart, he misses his first family. We've unlocked his mind from its ADHD stronghold and unleashed articulate, heartfelt, deep, deep emotion. I'm so happy he is able to express his grief, and I'm so wrecked that he has any grief to express. My heart hurts that my baby hurts. His loss is big and there is nothing I can do about it, I can't take it away or fix it. There's no specialist or pill for this one. All I can do is be with him while he walks it.
Oh, my baby. Oh, my love. I wish for you only great things, and beautiful. For you are great, and beautiful. I'm so, so sorry.