Thunderthighs Sings

As I mentioned in yesterday’s blog, despite his autism, anxiety and reluctance to speak, we attempted to keep Thunderthighs in our nearest mainstream school. It was not a success. 

One afternoon after an upsetting meeting at that school I went to an assembly at Ferretfingers’ school where each child’s every achievement, however small, was celebrated. 

It broke my heart to realise that Thunderthighs would never be as cherished where he was.

 

I had a good relationship with the Head of Woodlawn. Sometimes you come across people who just get you, and viseversa, and he was one.  There had been a number of issues with and about Ferretfingers that we’d worked through with, and sometimes against, the local authority.   

I found him to be honest, trustworthy, and not afraid to speak truth to power, or parents.  

According to him I was a “stalwart” of the Parent Teachers Association, and we’d spent a lot of time organising fundraising events and the famous Xmas Pudding Fun Run.  

I didn’t want to risk upsetting or embarrassing him if he was forced to deny Thunderthighs a place.  So I wrote to our local authority's head of education pointing out that Thunderthighs Statement of Special Needs was not being met and suggesting that, whilst Woodlawn might provide far more than he needed, until a more suitable place was available, perhaps he could go there to make up for the past year’s lack of provision.  He started the day after the Autumn half term holiday.

 

It was like putting a duckling into water, he found his feet and took off.

 

The physical and digestive problems associated with anxiety and autism were taken seriously by the school’s doctor and on-site nurse.  It was so much better that going back and forth to our GP surgery and seeing different doctors who’d only had time to skim read Thunderthighs’ notes.   

I was given really useful, practical advice and emotional support at regular, scheduled consultations.

 

He made progress and friends and started coming out of his shell.

Halfway through his second year at Woodlawn there was a school concert.  As usual I went along and sat one seat in from the end of a row.  After the interval the Head came and sat in the empty seat next to me, which puzzled me a little.

Thunderthighs filed in with the rest of the juniors and sat at the back of the stage area between his mates Matty and Foxy, both considerably smaller than him.  Then he got up and took centre stage with Matty and Foxy standing hidden behind him.  Henlady played a chord on the piano and Thunderthighs, solo, started singing the first verse of Chimchimcheree.  Matty and Foxy jumped out from behind him when they got to the chorus and eventually all the juniors were singing along.

 

To see my anxious, shy, tongue-tied boy standing confidently singing in front of the whole school and parents brought such a lump to my throat I could hardly breathe.

My chin started wobbling and my hand went up to my mouth …

Then I felt some whiskers tickling my cheek as the Head whispered in my ear

“Gotcha!”