I am standing in my room typing this on my laptop, which is resting upon my emergency desk/ironing board. Miss Elsa is cleaning my house, God bless her, so there's no other available surface for me to set up shop. I'm hiding in here, really, trying to stop my heart from fluttering up into my throat as I gnaw on too many slices of Italian bread toast and sip at my coffee that I have yet to actually taste.
I am nervous.
One and I drive to his community college today for Disability Services orientation. Presumably, he will learn how to approach his professors and explain the accomodations he is allowed, based on his physical disability. I am not allowed to attend with him, because part of the process is getting him to advocate for himself. (Bite toast, wipe buttery fingers, sip coffee.)
I am nauseous.
Due to a snafu at the high school, the college didn't receive his transcripts until about two weeks ago. We don't even register him for classes until next Monday, and school starts Thursday. We are behind in our preparations, he doesn't know the campus lay-out, and until he has a schedule I don't even know how I'm getting him there and back. (Bite toast, wipe buttery fingers, sip coffee.)
I am trying not to drown in self-recrimination for failing to prepare him for life. I know you will be supportive and try and talk me off the ledge. The Captain has already reminded me to be proud of all One has accomplished, and how we've gotten him this far. Even I am sure that in a few weeks I'll feel better after we have a plan. But right now there is only fear. And cold coffee.
You did not fail to prepare him for life. This is life. Stuff goes wrong. Your plans blow up in your face. It is always like that, no matter how prepared you think you are.
ReplyDeleteAnd it's okay to be scared. Every parent is scared at the idea of her kid heading off into the world. When you have a kid with special challenges you just have some real concrete things to obsess over. That's okay too.
He'll do great. He's a good kid and you will find a way. *slides over a warm cup of coffee*
Yep. What Julia Said.
DeleteThanks for the bolstering and the coffee. I don't like to reheat. Consequently, my house is littered with half-empty cups that I put down when I had to go help someone.
DeleteHe will surprise you. I know it. If you show him the face of confidence he'll pick up on that. I volunteered for many years at a special ed high school in L.A. I saw many fine young men go off to college with all kinds of disabilities. One will be fine. Your nervousness is fine too, recognizing it for what it is is half the battle. Hugs.
ReplyDeleteWell, he did surprise me when he got done with the meeting. I met him in the library where he had stopped to say hello to a girl he knew from high school. It went fairly well-there was actual conversation!
DeleteTHis is the same kid who flew to Florida for his 18th bday isn't it? He will overwhelm you with his ability and his joy.
ReplyDeleteWe haven't mastered solo flying yet-I went with him on that trip. I know all things will get accomplished in time. It's just painful to watch the delay.
DeleteThe fear I can accept but loathing - you don't deserve the loathing. There will always be a million things every parent wishes they had done, not done, or done differently. You've prepared One for life. I'm sure he's going to surprise you with how well he lives it. And, if not, you and the Captain will deal with that, too.
ReplyDeleteI do occasionally flog myself for my inadequacies. I am, unfortunately, not really a superheroine, although the Captain might spring for a Wonder Woman outfit if I asked. ;)
DeleteFear and Loathing on the Ironing Board. ...No I'm sorry, it just doesn't have a good ring to it. JJJ's right, you'll have to lose the loathing bit.
ReplyDelete;-) fgbvs
Thanks for the vibes. Today I was thinking our home life would make a good reality show. Currently there are ten full-time residents in our multi-generational house, with varying special needs, and most of the time it's very funny here. Perhaps I could call it Fear and Laughter Under the Ironing Board.
DeleteOMG I would so watch that show.
DeleteAck! I didn't see this when I could offer timely reassurance. But he did fine, didn't he? I know he did fine. You're an awesome mom and you have nothing to worry about. (As if that would stop any mother from worrying.)
ReplyDeleteHe did fine as far as I can tell. He doesn't offer a lot of details. This is true of most of my boys, actually. That is why I worry.
DeleteI'm with Dee, late but still here.
ReplyDeleteWhat Every One Else said, re-read, they know of which they speak.
Here's my bit of assvice: let it go.
Seriously, I KNOW how fucking hard that is, but truly, it works. See him succeed in your mind when you close your eyes. THAT is the future, and you helped create it.
My dearest cuz:
DeleteIn my 30+ years in the world of special education I have often been in the presence of parents just like you- and in most instances the life transitions are more difficult for the adults than their children when all is said and done.
Suggestion.... use the fear to drive you forward (Go ONE!!!
I did let it go, finally. I have a time limit on how long I can worry about one situation, before the next situation arises! We schedule classes tomorrow, and will do our own campus mapping Wednesday. Then it will be time to worry about actually attending the classes.
DeleteBobbi-first, let me say that I typed your name as BOOBI. Twice. Anywho-I think you're right. One is very laid back. We're very relaxed about the idea of college-there's no pressure for him to finish in two years, and this may not even be the way for him to get a degree. It's just the logistics that freak me out. I'm sure I'll feel better after a few weeks.
DeleteWell we know that the Boobi part just can't be right! You MUST be tired!!!
DeleteXXOO