In the puppet show, a possum learned to be thankful for his fainting spells. I'm sorry, but a "possum" learning to be thankful for his "fainting spells"? Could this be more perfect for L's situation? I could just see him making the connections, feeling represented and accepted, and walking away with a personal reminder to find the positive perspective in a negative situation.
When we got home this afternoon, I eagerly asked him what he thought of chapel. Whim had led the music and shared, and even called M up on stage to help at one point, so L had a lot of things to say about it, but he didn't mention the puppet show.
Not to be deterred, I brought it up myself. "What did you think of the puppet show?" I asked him?
"Oh, the puffet show! I loved it!"
I knew it! My sweet boy. It probably meant so much to him.
"The possum was just like you, wasn't he?" I prompted.
He has no idea what I'm talking about.
"The possum. The one who fainted..." I remind him.
"He fainted whenever he got scared?"
"The puffets were just so funny, mom! That's why I liked it! I laughed, with my friends!"
Lesson learned. For him, right now, he isn't looking to see "someone like him" up on stage, in his books, or the media. He's surrounded by kids just like him. His seizures aren't a big deal for him, I need to follow his lead.
Sorry, bud. One day I'll be as level-headed as you about the whole business.