My middle child is turning 20 years old. That cannot be right! He was just born, right?
We all feel this way about our children aging, all the while we are still in our 20s or 30s in our heads. When a child hits the twenties though, your mind does a screeching halt and has to re-adjust (in normally functioning adults-I can't speak for those who continue acting like juveniles). I don't know about the rest of you parents, but I spend a good bit of time reflecting on where we were, where we are now, and where we are headed.
This child was coming into the world differently than my first child, in that we knew he had something wrong with his kidneys. Ultrasounds were not great back then but definitely better than nothing, so the doctors were anticipating other complications that may have not been evident on the ultrasound. Anywho, he did just fine and just had the one kidney that had died off. Because of this kidney thing, though, I spent the first year of his life quartering an adult-sized capsule of antibiotics to give to him every day. Do you have any idea how difficult it can be to open a capsule and get a fourth of the powder out? Not fun.
Moving on to toddlerhood, this little angel has already had eye surgery for crossed-eyes and did well (other than they had a very hard time getting him to wake up, but he did), and was growing like a weed. No trouble from the kidney, but his behavior was, to put it mildly, a bit odd. He would look at the TV sideways and shake his head. He repeats everything 4 times, and when he would get excited he was beside himself with joy and do strange things with his hands. I asked his pediatrician if he could be autistic, and she said that she didn't think so but that we would keep watching. Long about when he got 4 years old, his preschool teacher asked us if we had his eyes checked lately because when he colors, he gets face down on the table. We took him to the eye doctor and found out he was legally blind, and had to undergo a painful battery of tests to see if he was going to completely lose all sight. One test involved running a thin wire or thread across his eyeballs. Not fun. It was a year before it was finally determined that he should not lose all sight and would be okay. His dad asked the doctor if he would ever be able to drive. The doctor turned around and said "He can't see 10 feet in front of him, and even then it looks to him like he is seeing things through Crisco covered glasses. No, he will never be able to drive or do certain professions. I'm sorry." Definitely not fun.
Fast forward on to school years. He went to the normal public school from K-5 to 2nd grade, but I finally sent him to the blind school because he was having such a hard time with kids stealing his glasses and the school system wanting to hire him someone to "guide" him around. The regular public school was used to "crippling" (my word, not theirs) the different-abled children so it wouldn't slow the kids down. At the blind school, this child was one of the better-equipped children and they didn't cut him any slack! He learned how to do for himself and speak up for himself, and that no one else could do for him as well as he could. It was tough and lots of tears were shed during these growing pains. Not to mention he had to catch the bus every morning at 6:20am or either move to the school. Not fun.
He chose to go back into the public school system in the 6th grade, and it was tough. The teachers weren't sure how to order his books, but he knew how to show them and what his resources were. The teachers and counselors were wise enough to give him room to do for himself. The bullying continued, and was worse now because my son had also become overweight, but he never seemed to be very troubled by it. He did have to get in a pretty big fight in the 7th grade, but after that he didn't have any more trouble with physical bullying. He moved on through school making good grades and getting along well with others socially, which was also a problem when he was younger. When he got to high school he watched all of his friends get their license to drive, but he didn't complain. When I would ask him if it bothered him, he would say that he was glad he couldn't drive. That all changed in the 11th grade.
He and his dad found out that low-vision drivers could drive in Alabama with special training. He was dying to do it. He wanted the independence that his friends enjoyed, even with the risks that came with it. This posed problems because, unlike his older brother, we had not prepared him to drive AT ALL! He knew only the basics on how a car operates, no sense of directions or any of the roads near our home. He had to take his lessons in the big city, and he had to drive monthly in rush hour traffic for a year. He also drove at home, like all kids do, with his mama because dad's nerves couldn't handle it. Not fun!
He is now in college and can drive night and day. I depend on him so much to help me in this world of technology that I am so not proficient in. He helps with his little brother, getting him ready for the world he has experienced, and mostly how to stay out of trouble with mom! He wants to work in human resources, and wants to help people work in jobs that suit them. I wish everyone could see him through my eyes and see how beautiful a person he is, but they can't. Not fun.
Thanks for allowing me to share this little reminiscence of my middle-born. There is so much more to say about him, but it is like vacation pictures- no one REALLY wants to see them all. Peace out!