My son, the actor

Josh and I went on a field trip with the first graders to the TreeHouse Museum. I didn't realize until the day before that by signing the permission slip, I was agreeing to come along. You see, if you have a first grader, they just ASK you if you want to. If you have one of the "inclusion kids" than if you want your kid to go you must go as well. Luckily, I don't go to school on Friday and I am only really busy with homework this week, not a slobbering wreck because of homework like the last two weeks. So I went and boy was I glad that I did.

I let Josh take the bus and I met him there later. He was so happy to see me. When we were called to the bus, he was so excited that I was going too. He held my hand the whole way down the hall to the bus. On the bus, it was as if he didn't even see the other kids. He just pulled me to a seat and made me sit with him. He was ecstatic to have me ride with him. He laughed, hugged me, kissed me, shouted "YEAH!" while punching the air. The bus driver got into the spirit and turned on the Black Eyed Peas song blaring, "Tonight's gonna be a good night!" We danced in our seats and sang. There was not a trace of embarrassment, not a speck of worry about what peers thought.

When we got to the TreeHouse Museum, everyone got split up into 3 groups to do 3 activities. The first activity was a shield making craft. Everyone sat down really quickly leaving the three inclusion kids to sit at their own table. No way! I squeezed Josh onto a table with other kids (this is inclusion people! Not exclude the inclusion kids time).

Next they put on a play, The Princess and The Pea. Josh volunteered to be an actor. When they asked who wanted to be king out of all the actors Josh was the only one to raise his hand. If you have never been to one of these plays, here is the general gist. The narrator (adult) tells the story including what the actors (kids) say and the kids are expected to repeat the narrator when he says their lines. Now here I am in a predicament. Do I risk embarrassing Josh and tell the narrator? Then the focus becomes what he CAN'T do. Hmm...Nope! I don't think I'll tell him. Let's just see how this plays out.

When it gets to Josh's first line, the narrator tells him to repeat it. Silence. "Come on, it's not that hard". Silence, but Josh is smiling. "It will serve you better in the future if you learn to speak up now" Silence (except for maybe my own snickering). The kids have all become quiet and are shifting uncomfortably looking at each other. They know, I know, Josh knows, but this narrator has no clue. Each time he gets to one of Josh's lines he goes through the song and dance, telling him he needs to say it and it isn't hard, he can do it, etc. All of which I find highly amusing because the man couldn't be more wrong. Josh never falters. His smile remains firmly in place. He does all the actions he is told, he shows plenty of kingly emotions but all completely silent.

About halfway through the narrator gives him another line and this time, for whatever reason, Josh is comfortable enough to say something. "A-loah-blough-nhew-blana!"

Now silence from the other end as the narrator realizes his blunder. He blinks once, twice, at my son. Then, with a flourish he turns to the audience and says, "And the townspeople helped the King say,__________". And we did. No prompting needed for the rest of the play, us townspeople took care of our King and said his lines. The King smiled and acted his little heart out. It worked well. I was so proud.

The next station had a play as well. Josh volunteered as was chosen as "The evil knight". This part suited him, not that he is evil, but that he has the bad guy scowl and fold arms down perfectly. This narrator figured it out much faster. Josh again acted the part. The scowl, the tapping chin thinking face, the you beat me sulk. Beautiful. Bravo! I was overflowing with pride.

I saw a mom that I knew while I was there. She saw my son and asked me if he has a diagnosis. I told her and she gasped. I just smiled and said, "I am the luckiest mom here. My son is not bound by the normal peer worries of these other kids. He is fearless to get up in front of this crowd and act in a play, even when he knows full well he can't speak. He has held my hand in the hall, the bus, and inbetween every station. He has hugged and kissed me and wanted me to sit next to him and share every moment. He isn't embarrassed to be seen with me or by what I do (not even when we were dancing and singing on the bus). I get this childhood innocence longer than anyone else here. Why should you be sorry?"

On the way home he laid his head in my lap. I was incredibly happy that I have my son the way he is. Sometimes it is hard and honestly I have had a hard time with everything that we have lost (past, present, and future), but usually I feel like all the rest of you are missing out. What? You have a normal child? GASP! Shake head. I am so sorry.