Monday, January 25, 2016

Color on Your Clothes

One year ago today I sent my beloved T-Man off to school for the first time.

 Actually, it wasn't just me. The whole family went. I carried AB and the camera and eyeballs full of tears. It was a mildly exciting, though largely terrifying day for me. The "what ifs" paraded through my mind at double time.

What if someone picks on him?
What if he needs something and the teacher can't understand him?
What if eats an allergen?
What if his teachers don't recognize what a treasure he is?
What if they see his eczema and think we're neglecting him so they call Family Services on us?
What if he hates school and this derails his whole education?

My normally optimistic personality was completely overrun by fear and doubt. Fun times.

I spent the night before running through the stomach-churning list of possible disasters and coloring on T's shoes. T has deliciously squishy feet that require extra wide shoes. By the time you add orthotics to his feet, the only shoes that work for him are orthopedic ones. Pediatric orthopedic shoes are ugly.

They're huge and white and clunky. As if the braces don't draw enough attention to the child, the shoes scream for attention. 

M and I set about making his shoes a wee bit better. Fortunately, my man is an artist, so he drew characters from Toy Story to match T's "Buzz Boots." These became his inside shoes.

I am not an artist, but I have learned how to color inside the lines. I made the outside shoes. (tip: we used sharpies for our coloring, then sprayed clear coat. A year later, they still look great.)

The moral of this story is: if something in your life is heinous, feel free to beautify it. The first born, type A person that still exists inside of me felt a bit rebellious coloring on shoes. It was fun. And it was for my beloved son. Plus, it helped distract me from the "what-ifs" just a bit.

And, it turns out I was needlessly torturing myself. Because:

No one picked on T.
His teachers worked hard to understand him, and they succeeded.
He didn't eat an allergen. Everyone was vigilant in protecting him.
His teachers did (and do) see his beauty and genuinely love him.
No one has ever reported us to Protective Services.
T-Man loves, loves, loves school!

copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.

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