Greetings, one and all!
Yes, yes, I know I’ve been lost and not really missed, but I’m back. It took almost a month, but I have all my ducks in some sort of row (not a straight or well-behaved one,) and I have time to sit and talk to you.
First and foremost, J is doing well. The Band-Aid Fixation continues, but we now spend more and more time without the wrist stabilizer or the band-aids. On one particularly happy occasion, we not only didn’t have the band-aids or the wrist stabilizer, we also forgot Slinky in the garage for about three hours. I had to remind him that he’d forgotten…a joyous moment and a d-oh! moment all rolled into one.
A few days ago we visited our trusted friend, Dr. Psychiatrist. J was well-behaved and happy throughout, and we discussed removing J’s med completely. This, ladies and gentlemen, is about to happen…well…as soon as we run out of the med and refills already on queue. We are thinking Christmas will be, to put it mildly, interesting. I am sure that there will be some jolts and bumps to navigate as his body lets go of the very last bit of added chemicals, but that’s the way it has to be.
With every passing week the end of J’s life as a student gets closer. There are 229 days until the last day of school…of those only 128 are actual school days, and we haven’t factored in snow days, or early release days. The clock is ticking, and it’s neither stopping nor slowing down for our benefit. The days of J as a student are numbered…
Yesterday we received this year’s version of the graduation announcements. I thought to myself, as I looked at the envelope, “at least this is the last year when I will cry when I get this.” We all know, because I make no bones about admitting it, that this is all very bittersweet for us. J’s school picture, the last one ever, was absolutely spectacular. He has finally mastered the art of smiling for the camera without looking like a boxing glove is going to come out and smack him. We hung this version next to the framed proofs for his first school picture ever. The contrast is marked: on the first a tiny, nearly-bald, skinny kid looks confusedly at the camera, and in the sixth frame you can tell he’s just melting down completely. They never sent us the actual picture…they just gave us the proofs. We framed them. They’re so…J! Next to it, a portly, handsome, hairy young man smiles gently; his goatee leans to the right and his eyebrows look unruly, but he is handsome and he’s loving the attention. We’ve come a long way, baby!
Attending graduation is out of the question, of course. J could not possibly deal with the overstimulation involved in hundreds of students doing a processional and then sitting through a ceremony that won’t last ten minutes. Needless to say that the cap and gown won’t be his favorite thing to wear. An alternative must be concocted out of thin air, then…something that will be ceremonious enough to mark the end of an era and the ushering in of a new one.
I’ve suggested the So Long, Farewell song from The Sound of Music performed by teachers, aides and admin personnel, but I don’t think they are keen on learning the choreography, wearing the costumes and leaving the room in any semblance of order. The end-of-school-year picnic his class celebrates every year will have to do, but I think we’ll try to throw something in there to make it a clear message that this is J’s last ride with his class.
Our family is undergoing changes. Some of them are less dramatic than others. We are starting to look, in earnest, for a house to buy…or, at least, for the type of house in the type of neighborhood we’d want to settle in for the next fifteen years or so. We are hoping TGG moves out soon; this might be a tricky thing to achieve because he is not really concentrating on school as he should (he is “in love”,) and he makes barely enough money to pay for the things that are obligations. We, the parents, feel the effects of aging…the creaking, cracking, impatience, etc. Acid reflux has become “a thing” around these parts, and we see it getting worse before it gets better. That J is almost out of school is the biggest change of them all; that he will be out of school and med-free is an even bigger change.
I confess to you, as I have to Dada, that I am not torn about TGG finally moving out. I am really looking forward to it, in fact. That is as close as I will ever get to having an empty nest, and it’s taking very long in getting here. TGG, at this point, needs to go off on his own, and learn from his mistakes, and I am totally ready to close the door and wave bye-bye. It may sound mean of me, but sometimes we don’t let our kids grow up because we are there to fix things.
My situation with J is the absolute opposite, and yet it’s the same. While I am anxious about the prospect of no school forever, I am also looking forward to seeing where we go from here. In a lot of ways, I feel more confident about J hitting his stride and maturing more smoothly than TGG has. Maybe, just maybe, we’ve always pushed J more because J has more hurdles to overcome, and TGG doesn’t see that we’ve been exceedingly nice and patient with him…and takes advantage of it.
But I’m not here to gripe about TGG. I’m here to tell you that we are doing fine, and that we are moving forward. I promise (or threaten?) to not stay gone as long as I have recently. It’s just life, you know, and acid reflux…and 24 year-olds who don’t quite “get” why their parents are impatient with the choices being made.
But I’m here…it’s all goodish. You’ll see…