Frustrated!

The mystery begins.....Yesterday, around lunch time. I got a call from Sam's school. Apparently, he was really upset and refused to go in the cafeteria. According to him, I had told him that the cafeteria was dangerous and he was not allowed to go in there.

I talked to Sam on the phone and attempted to explain that his teachers would never take him somewhere unsafe. I tried to get him to explain, but I just couldn't figure it out. After 10 minutes on the phone, we were still "no go." So Sam ate lunch in the classroom and I vowed to get to the bottom of it that night.

Last night, Sam and I discussed the issue. At some point, he informed me that the lunchroom is unsafe because there are flameshooters in there. More confusion....

So this morning, I dropped Stephen off at his class and Sam and I made a visit to the cafeteria. As soon as we got near the door, he started screaming and took off running in the other direction. As I took off after him, something caught my eye....paper Olympic torches on the wall. Or in Sam's little eyes, flameshooters! I later found out that the torches had been put there for a 2nd grade play about American heroes and they would be up for 2 weeks.

As a part of Sam's Asperger's Syndrome, he sometimes gets overwhelmed by certain fears. He has overcome bunches of them already, like his fear of butterflies, but some are still there. These fears may seem ridiculous to an outsider, but trust me, they are VERY REAL to him. Sam's teachers asked the usual question: do we want to accommodate this fear or try to push him past it? Keith and I tend to feel that the best thing to do is help him past it. Realistically, the world will not always be willing to remove items that make him feel afraid.

So this morning, we walked through the halls and touched all sorts of paper on the wall. We talked about the difference between paper and fire. One of his amazing understanding teachers even took him to talk to the woman in charge of the play. They read a book about the Olympics together. She showed him torches in the book. They looked at the calendar and talked about when the torches would come down. We had done everything we could think of to help the little guy out, but he was still not having any of it.

So I went back today to help him through lunch (with Stephen in tow). At first, it seemed that all was well. We met him in the hall and headed toward the door. He seemed okay, but in a moment, sheer panic set in and off he ran. We ended up having a heart-to-heart in the middle of the Kindergarten hall floor, while Stephen screamed and cried because the teacher's aide had his lunchbox. I tried everything I could think of... I hugged. I consoled. I prayed (aloud, mind you) for some sort of intervention. I even promised ICE CREAM!!! (granted...not one of my finer mommy moments, but I was desperate)

Eventually, he reluctantly agreed to enter the cafeteria and sit at the family tables (which are some of the farthest from the stage). He chose a seat right next to the fire extinguisher-- "just in case we need it, Mommy."

By the time lunch was over, I was emotionally shot for the day. So we headed home, only to run into Stephen's teacher and find out that he had a similar fit earlier in the day because he was scared of the POPCORN they had for snack.

These are the days when I struggle to understand God's plan for my life. These are the days when I have to make myself hold tight to those things that I know to be true...
those verses about how my children are "fearfully and wonderfully made"....
God's reassurance that his plans are designed to help me and not to harm me....
that He will never give me anything that I cannot handle...
that He has amazing plans for my children...
that He is trustworthy and most importantly...
that He is faithful.