Fire trucks, Alarms, and High Fives…

Neurotypical preschool is something new for Bob. A venture we decided as a collective group, ie my husband, myself, Bobs therapists and his grandparents. Yes, it takes a clan to run Bob’s life. He is the center of our little universe. Truly it has been a good thing for him. The socialization that he receives in this environment is allowing his language to blossom even more and he has picked up some not so good behaviors..I can’t lie it’s not all peaches and cream, sometimes it’s plain old piss and vinegar. But for the most part, he’s doing ok.

Along with preschool, comes pull out programs , music, chapel, and pe. This is a stressor for me…I worry. I worry if transitioning will go well for him; moreover, if he will benefit from these programs. Plain and simple, will he get it? Will he understand what is going on around him. He also has field trips and that’s a whole new bag of tricks for us.

Today, the school had scheduled the local fire department to come to school and give the safety spiel and let the kids go inside the fire truck.

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I had several different scenarios roaming around in my head.
1. He would love it! Sit quietly and listen and everything would go smoothly.
Or
2. He would not sit still, be drawn to the truck, wrestle the keys away from the firefighter while biting his teacher and take off in the truck. Possibly taking out a few of the kids with him.

I hoped for the first scenario. But I prepared for the second. I had a game plan.

In reality, my son sat in front of the truck, criss cross apple sauce. He listened with minimal disruptions. One exception, when the firefighter asked what number do you call in case of an emergency, the other kids yelled in unison 911. Bob chimed in and said…and 2!
I think he was following the literal line of numeracy or he was reading the number off the truck. Who knows!
He covered his ears when they demonstrated the smoke alarm, smiling the whole time. He even high fived the fireman as he came by the kids fully dressed in his fireman garbe.

The worry that followed me to school over the upcoming events of the day dissapated, while my son sat on the front row enjoying the show. And I his mommy, had the privilege once again of sitting on the front row of his life.

Love and hugs,
Bob’s Mommy

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