Drinking Lemonade

When life gives me lemons, I tend to bite into them whole, pucker my face at their tartness and then complain that my serving of citrus seemed to be purchased in bulk. And because I’m a mom, I get to taste my kids’ lemons too. I suppose using them for lemonade doesn’t cross my mind because at our house, it comes from powdered concentrate.

Last Wednesday, Caleb and I went to the school to meet with the fifth grade teacher that was hand-picked for him last spring. We’ve learned that it’s best for all involved if we lay some groundwork before the school year begins. This helps ease the anxiety and helps the teacher have a better understanding of Caleb. He really is a great kid who has proven he can be successful if we’re all using the right tools as we work together.

Caleb is not a child that is enthusiastic about going back to school each fall. But after our meeting with the teacher, we both came away feeling like we’d just had a nice, cold glass of lemonade. She was easy to talk to, very understanding, reassuring and best of all, knowledgeable. She has a background in special education and seemed especially equipped to help Caleb with his unique challenges. Caleb was able to select the desk he felt most comfortable in and he appeared much less dreadful about the new school year.

Last Friday afternoon, however, a big ol’ lemon landed in our laps. The school district did some last minute realignments and Caleb’s teacher was suddenly asked to teach a 4th/5th grade split class. Knowing that a split class is not best for Caleb, the principal moved him to a traditional 5th grade classroom. My heart stopped when I heard the news. Because Caleb struggles with even minor changes, I knew it would be devastating to him. And it didn’t make the sour situation any sweeter to have the principal “reassure” me that this new teacher was the “second best” fit for him. Nothing like being told your child is getting second best.

Caleb took the news far harder than I could’ve imagined. He was angry and hurt and couldn’t understand how someone could do this to him.

“But Mom,” he cried, “I already met my teacher!”

He ranted about hating the school and never wanting to return. He was so upset that I had to suspend revealing the new teacher’s name for more than an hour. And just in case one lemon wasn’t enough, I handed him a second when I had to inform him that his two best friends had now been moved into that split class that was supposed to be his.

Jon arrived home and after acknowledging his own feelings of displeasure, tried teaching Caleb about what to do with life’s lemons. He explained the old familiar saying and let him know we’d help him make lemonade out of this super sour predicament. Caleb was not in any kind of lemonade-making mood and frankly, neither was I.

Since Monday was a holiday, I called the school first thing Tuesday morning (the day before the 1st day of school) to start the groundwork-laying process all over again. Caleb had to be bribed into going but I knew the visit was an essential step to dealing with his emotions and getting to the point where he could be OK with this change. By the end of our one-hour meeting, we both felt reassured that everything was going to work out just fine. She was very easy (and fun) to talk to and I sensed that she would be more than capable of meeting our needs.

Wednesday morning brought a few nerves but everything went off without a hitch. Both of the kids slipped comfortably back into the school morning routine. I walked them to school and was able to snap a quick picture of Alyssa at her desk. As I left the classroom, I commented to my friend whose son is in the class, “I have the cutest little girl in the whole world!” Every mom feels that way, right?

After school, I met Alyssa outside her classroom to make sure she and her little walking buddies figure out where to meet. In the midst of the madness that goes on outside the school during the first few days, I ran into Caleb’s teacher. She gave me the thumbs-up and gushed about how well he did. She was so warm and friendly that I squealed like a little girl and told her I wanted to give her a hug. She grabbed me and as she squeezed me tight, gave me all sorts of reassurance about how he was going to be just fine. I thought I might cry. But I held it together.

I saw her again after the second day and her report was much of the same. The more I talk to her, the more I feel that this change, as traumatic as it was, just very well may have been a blessing in disguise. She seems to have the teaching style that works best for Caleb and she’s very easy to communicate with, which is always so important for us.

Neither Caleb nor I can take much credit for the sweetness of our lemonade. We both dug our heels in pretty deep on this one. Instead, we give credit to our Heavenly Father who hears and answers our prayers. He knows Caleb and I were both in need of a large glass of lemonade and in order to have that drink, we first needed some lemons. I’m sure this year will have its bumps, just as any school year does, but we both feel at peace and I’ve learned that I shouldn’t be so quick to complain about the sour juice I have to drink and rely more on my faith in He who can help us make it sweet.