August 1, 2016

Superbly Uneventful

My son started junior high today. 

I write that.  And pause.  And read it again.  Is that possibly the whole blog post?

I started writing when that beautiful boy was a wee child with big blue eyes, wild strength and bravery, a mercurial mood, and the ability to rile me up like no other.  And of great note, he had the deepest soul.

And today he got up all by himself.  I showered while he got ready.  Yes, I still reminded him to brush his damn teeth, which thank God, are still in his freaking mouth– even though I swear they’ve only been properly brushed twice since I let him take over that responsibility. 

He packed his lunch, (frozen gluten free meal and a yogurt??).  I didn’t say a thing about his lunch.  I didn’t have to remind him to put on clean clothes.  He looked great.  His hair could use a fluffing of sorts on the side he slept on.  But then, I am just happy he slept that well.  Well enough to mess up his hair. 

He had a water bottle already when I asked. 

I have done a good job.  We did a good job.  He is able to get up and get ready for school all by himself.  He is able to ask for what he needs.  He recognizes his strengths and weaknesses.  He is always striving to be more.  He is still mercurial.  He still has beautiful blue eyes, and he is still the bravest kid around.  And of great note, he still has the deepest soul.

I didn’t cry.  I ALWAYS cry on the first day of school.  He asked his dad to take him to school.  And his dad did.  They took pictures on the driveway, all of us.  And then he drove off.  And dad sent me a follow-up pic at school. 

Hell, it was that easy. 

I went inside and worked. 

And you know what…

After years of fighting for this kid.

After years of talking to teachers and diagnosis’ and research and support groups and switching schools…  Today I went into my house like I had always fantasized.  I didn’t worry about the day or the way he’d react or his anxiety or whether his day would hurt or whether he’d succeed or fail.  And mostly, how he’d feel about it all. 

Today I waved good-bye and walked back inside the house.  I know everything is going to be ok.  I didn’t know if I’d ever feel this day.  But I did.  And who cares about tomorrow.  This, my friends, was a day of celebration, of success, of absolutely uneventful moments of being the amazing Mack’s mom. 

Cheers to children, time passing, battles and when they end, even for a moment. 

For a silent moment, God Bless you, me and my amazing Mack!