I signed Matthew up for a kids music class. He loves music and loves to dance. I had heard that music helps stimulate the part of the brain in charge of communication, not sure if it will help, but figured he'll have fun anyway. And as an added bonus, it is an opportunity for him to interact with kids his own age and to follow directions in a group, which will come in handy in the spring when he heads to preschool.
Yesterday was the first class, and this was Matthew's first time in any class of any kind with kids his own age. Matthew thought it was great. He loved the songs and the dances. He mostly followed direction and he definitely watched the other kids to see what he should do. He even sat with his little legs crossed listening to a quick story, like all the other kids in the room. He wasn't a fan of the lullaby with the lights off, but was again very happy when the lights came back on. All in all, a good experience.
My emotions were all over. I was so happy this class made him so happy. I was proud when he followed directions. But my heart also hurt a little. In a class with 10 other 2 year olds, it was very obvious how very different Matthew is from his peers. He looks different, he acts different, he sounds different. He is so very unique. I often forget that in our every day.
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