Just another Minnesota Mom blog.

To my boys.

Posted: August 28th, 2012 | Author: | Filed under: Autism | Tags: Autism, Letters, School | 4 Comments »

All week I’ve been feeling sad about the impending first day of school and how it’s so much more than preschool but not quite kindergarten and will I feel jaded and left out when kindergarten finally gets here since we’ll be old hats at the bus and the teachers and separate classrooms and all that jazz.

But as I sit here on the night before your first day of school, I want to remember where we are today, so I can see how far we have come.



Last year at this time, you were not saying a word.  That would come right before Christmas break and then explode in the following months.  Now, you practically carry on full conversations and as we all know, you can read.

A favorite Lincolnism of mine is how you label everything as a store, park, restaurant etc.

Minneapolis Children’s Hospital Restaurant Store
State Fair Restaurant Park
Fraser Child and Family Center School

Everything gets a label, I guess that is how you keep things filed away in that brain of yours.  This is where we play.  This is where we learn.  This is where we eat.  This is where we buy things.  Smart kid.

You have so many wiggles and not enough ways to get them out.  Your hand (or chew) goes to your mouth about 900 times a day as you bite down and erupt into a giggle.  Your giggles are contagious.  You laugh and I can’t help but smile.  Your teachers have always said you are nothing but joyful.

I am so thankful for this gift!

You gravitate towards adults and given a wide open space you will gallop around like a wild pony.  I hope you find some kids in class to gallop with you!  So many new friends to meet: teachers, therapists and classmates alike.

You will be in two different schools and will be separated from your brother for both.  I don’t have many worries about this (other than how I will keep track of what team belongs with what brother) and I am sure your teachers will keep us in the loop on any apprehensions they detect, but I expect you will be just fine.

I will miss you and look forward to your floppy haired head bobbing down the aisle of the bus tomorrow afternoon!



You are my sensitive kid.  In every possible way.

Right now you are starting to stand your ground verbally, and I love it.  You tell me what you want.  You tell me what you don’t want.  You tell me when Judah or Lincoln are getting on your nerves.  It’s great to see you standing up for yourself and finding your voice when just months ago you would have dissolved into tears or a tantrum.  Of course that happens sometimes too, but not nearly as frequently.

You are currently testing some boundaries, no doubt brought on by some of your brothers less likable behaviors.  Pretending to pull hair.  Pretending to bite.  Pushing, but only halfheartedly and always with an eye out for me to see if I’m watching you do it.

Of course if you do catch my eye you stop immediately and smile.

I’ve got your number kid- you don’t have a mean bone in your body!  I hope this phase is short lived and you move on to something new.

You are all skinny legs and knobby knees.  You barely eat but can drink your weight in milk on a daily basis.

Super Why is still your first love, although I have an feeling I am somewhere in second place (close or distant is yet to be determined).  You have a way of pulling a line from an episode and inserting it as your answer to a request or a question and the person you are talking to usually has no idea you are scripting.  You are like a scripting ninja. I love to catch you in the act with someone who has no idea you are doing it.

The way to draw out your vowels makes me smile and I kind of hope you keep your unique inflection. You are like a Minnesotan crossed with a New Yorker, who knows where it comes from but it suits you.

As with Lincoln, I hope you start noticing the kids in your classrooms and find someone who loves to play “chase” as much as you do. Of course no one will ever turn away your friendly smile, shiny eyes and contagious laugh.  Everyone who meets you thinks you are a pretty great kid.  Maybe aim for some friends more your size though!?

I want you to be brave and remember that Lincoln will be there on your bus rides and you can always ask your teacher to see him.  He will always be near and he will always be home with you at the end of the day.  I know you miss your brother when he is not there and I know you notice his absence more than he seems to notice yours and I kind of love that about you.

I will see you tomorrow on the bus!  Judah and I will be waiting patiently on the porch and I know he will be as excited as me to see you come down the steps!


Over the next 2 weeks we will try and keep things flowing as smoothly as possible as we transition to a full day of school and therapy punctuated with 3 different bus rides.  I think you will handle it well and I hope to God I notice right away of you are struggling. (It’s never as obvious as you think it will be.)

Tomorrow will be a busy day.  I hope you aren’t nervous.  I hope you don’t struggle to keep up.  I hope it’s the beginning of great things and a great new year!

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4 Comments on “To my boys.”

  1. 1 Judy Parock said at 8:44 am on August 29th, 2012:

    That was absolutely beautiful, Erin! We are all blessed to have such wonderful, unique and beautiful boys in our family.

  2. 2 Jenna said at 2:13 pm on August 29th, 2012:

    Awww Erin!

    You're gonna make me cry.

  3. 3 erinclot said at 8:49 pm on August 30th, 2012:

    So proud of our little guys. They have made so much progress. I'm so inspired by them
    My recent post To my boys.

  4. 4 Derek said at 2:09 am on November 9th, 2012:

    That was a touching thing to read. Personally, that's part of what makes having kids so enjoyable – from seeing them go off to school to helping them pick out boy suits fine for some event.

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