Ryan's school career did not exactly start off on the right foot. In fact, most days started with him using his right foot to kick other students, the teacher and even a very authoritative nun. While clearly bright and capable, Ryan was frequently bored, and decided that sitting at his desk was less fun than say, total anarchy.
Things escalated from bad to worse. Most school days, I would pray for a "good report." When I would pick the kids up from school, I would hold my breath and try to calm the deafening pounding in my chest. Usually, Ryan emerged from school like a prisoner of war, defeated, unhappy and hopeless, clutching the tell-tale pink detention slip in his little hand.
Days like these were common for us in kindergarten and first grade. As I look back, it was a dysfunctional parade of desperate threats, broken school handbook rules, harsh restrictions and low self-esteem. And that, friends, was during a good week.
Working to help Ryan and his school get on the right track felt like Space Mountain roller coaster ride at Disney World, the one that you ride in the dark. There were so many twists, turns and dreaded drops, plus a bonus of unexpected series of dips and jerks (pun intended).
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