Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of his life. I'm terrified, yet confident. I know I've made the right decision.

My son, Madison, never ceases to amaze me. He's got a gift. We haven't exactly pinned down what that gift is yet, but he's definately got something to offer.

As he struggled through kindergarten, I fretted every step of the way. He was smart, but his teacher got increasingly frustrated with him. He just didn't fit the mold. In the end, she didn't exactly fail him, but she recommended him for a program called Transitional First.

During the summer we decided to move back to my husband's home town. A small little island off the coast of Florida. Ahh, the island of Amelia. When school time came around again, I explained that Madison hadn't been passed and he was put through a battery of tests to see where he would end up. They said he had all the knowledge he needed to continue on to first grade.

This year, again, has been a fight. He's got straight A's and an A in conduct, yet his teacher is bothered by the fact that he can't "sit still". He doesn't cause trouble or dance a jig...he just tends to move a lot. They did an Intervention on him and sent him through a whole new set of tests for learning disabilities. The results? Not a single sign of ADHD or otherwise detrimental issues.

Still, once a week I was getting a call from his teacher imploring me to call my pediatrician and have him medicated. I refuse to turn my children into Stepford Children just for the sake of making someone's life a little easier. Perhaps if he had failing grades or bad behaviour, but he doesn't.

So here we are. Today was his last day of school. I am now charged with the job of educating him and molding him into a functioning member of society. I'm scared, yes. However, I'm excited at the prospects. He's got so much to offer...I just don't think it's what his first grade teacher wanted.