Still Needs A Mama....

The speech teacher from the junior high just called. She had just given Alex a test and told me how well he was doing and hoping he'll be wrapping up speech therapy at the end of the school year. Woot! I asked what class she'd be pulling him out of? I gave a plug to pull him out of his least favorite class "Functional Literacy" because A: he doesn't like it and B: none of Alex's friends or peers are in it with him so it will save him the embarrassment of being pulled out of a regular class. (Yes, mom points for me!) She thought that would work great.
I talked to her about his "th" sound - as his IEP addresses the "s" sound and she agreed that he had a few more sounds to work on, then I explained  that we adopted him from an orphanage for children with speech disorders.  I asked, "You did realize he was from another country right?"
"Oh yes. I figured something like that."
"Oh good, he doesn't usually like to tell anyone, he keeps it on the low down."
"Well , he didn't actually come out and tell me. I asked him to tell me about himself but he didn't mention anything about being adopted. Then I asked him to tell me more and he did but still nothing about Ukraine or being adopted. Finally I asked if he had always lived in the country and he admitted he hadn't."
Ha! Nothing about Ukraine. Nothing about being adopted. Zero. Nada. I told her that he is 100% here and just wants folks to think he's always been here. I am fine with that except I think some of his teachers need to know he's only been in the country for just over two years and still struggling with the language. She said he was doing amazing. I was tickled. That's my boy. My all American boy.

Alex decided he wanted to start blogging again. I had to help him with his post a lot and I'm not sure it's going to help his English as much as journal writing. I'm thinking maybe I'll just let him publish his post in their original form? Mistakes and all? Before I was correcting in a different color but I hate to mark up his posts for all to see. Well, see. Last time blogging died off quickly. It might again. (Stop by and say "Hi" if you feel inclined. He loves comments!)

Last night I was examining the scratch he got riding his bike. It's on his arm and it's sort of bruising around the scratch. He got it on his way to school yesterday on his bike. It looks very tender and sore and I asked if he cried? He looked at me with a look of disdain and obvious disgust. 

"No."  

Teasingly I said,

"Oh, okay. You are thirteen now. I guess you don't cry for your mama any more when you get hurt?" 

"No, I didn't cry for my mama."
He was laying against me - tucking ME into bed  - because he was so slow at getting to bed - I was already in bed, reading. I was rubbing his head and I asked,

"When do you cry for your mama?"
He answered without any hesitation or embarrassment,

"I  cry for my mama when I get HUGE hurt."
And I reminded him,

"Oh, and in a freezing, cold snow cave when you can't get warm?" 

"Yes. And in the middle of night at scout camp when bugs bite me." 

"So you still need a mama?" 

"Yes.....to give me food." 

"Oh, so you need me to feed you?" 

"Yes, and teach me English."
And he sighed and hugged me real tight.

Thirteen.
Thirteen year old's still need their mama's.
And it sure is nice to hear that they do......