It’s the most wonderful time of the year! Nope, not Christmas! It’s school uniform time!
I have been looking forward to buying Noah’s school uniform since we got his place agreed last December. I could picture him in his tiny little jumper and smart trousers, and proper shoes! He is going to look so smart when he walks in on that first day in September.
I am under no illusions that by the time he finishes that same day he will be a mucky smelly mess and I am 100% prepared for the photo opportunity.
I had to wait longer than I’d planned before kitting him out, as the school decided they were going to change their logo and tweak the uniform over the summer, so this week we finally got around to gathering everything together.
I got most of his uniform from unbranded supermarket stock, no sense spending a fortune when he’s going to grow out of it by the end of the year, and I have it on good authority that the SEN school he’s going to like to get them messy! But, I wanted one up to date branded set for his school picture day. One to keep nice for any occasions when messy play was guaranteed to be off the lesson plan.
So I took him down to the uniform shop this week, just me and him, and we found the pieces I really wanted. A sweatshirt and t-shirt with the embroidered school logo on, and a branded school bag. I took them to the till to ask the lady behind the counter for some help finding a couple of other bits from his kit list.
As soon as she clocked the name of the school on the items I was buying I noticed the change in her. She started to make a special effort to talk directly to Noah. She asked him if he wanted a stool so he could try on some plimsoles we were getting, and when I said “he probably won’t answer you, he’s non verbal”, she smiled and said okay, but crucially, CONTINUED to talk to him. She was kind, and inclusive, and treated him the same as any other young child getting their first uniform. I loved it.
She even asked him if he wanted to carry all his new things in his new bag, and then quietly turned to me and said “unless he’s got any sensory issues that would make that uncomfortable mum?”
It was such a small thing that to most people wouldn’t even register, but to me, it was everything. I’d been so excited to get his uniform, and I am so used to things not quite living up to my expectations because Noah doesn’t react the way I hoped he would, or other people exclude him in a way I didn’t anticipate, but her behaviour made the whole experience so normal. For a minute I didn’t feel like the odd mum out. It was so lovely.
And do you know what? Noah carried that bag of uniform all the way to the bakery where I bought him a big slab of cake for being so chilled out in the shop.
What’s more normal than that?
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