Today is the Day

Today is The Boy’s last day of 8th grade, of middle school, of being anything but a teenager. He’s excited. I’m excited. We’re all excited. And a little wistful, too. Even The Boy exclaims, “How did we get here?” and “How did this happen?” I tell him time flies, and if you blink, you miss it. I tell him all those old cliches, those that have been around so long they must be true. It sure feels that way.

Where is the 5 pound 6 ounce baby I was holding in my arms yesterday?

Where is the toddler who got away from me in the department store and hid in the middle of a clothes rack?

Where is the preschooler who couldn’t wait for the water to warm up to get into the small pool we had bought, and whose smiling lips turned blue?

Where is the 2nd grader who kicked his classmates?

Where is the 4th grader who sang the Star Spangled Banner at the high school football game with his choir?

Where is my 7th grader who began to have crushes on girls?

Who is this extra man in my house who is taller than me, requires shaving at regular intervals, and has hands and feet bigger than his dad’s? Who can barely fit on the couch if he stretches out on it? Who “practices” driving every time we get into the car?

Ah, yes. He’s my son, even though I can’t possibly be old enough for it to be true. My son. And me over here? The one with a bit of dust in her eye? I’m one proud mom.

finding our own path

 

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3 Guest Limit

Thursday, The Boy has his 8th Grade Celebration. When I first heard about it, I only heard the name and the date, not a description. I thought it was an end of the year dance for 8th graders, as is quite common.

It’s not.

It’s an awards/graduation ceremony, and at first I thought about us not going. The kids have to sit on the stage the entire time, and my experience with awards nights was that they drag on interminably. Not very autism-friendly. Plus, they are dictated to wear “Sunday clothes” (I hate that term), which for boys means a nice pair of pants and a collared shirt. Not The Boy’s preferred clothing, either.

But I consulted with his TA, and she seemed to think he would be fine, and that it shouldn’t last longer than an hour and a half. So, I sent in the RSVP that we would attend. Here’s the thing: they give the kids tickets, and each kid is limited to three.

I completely understand that there are families who will bring the entire extended family (and usually air horns) to an event like this, and there is limited space. I get that. But three?

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What if a kid has parents who are divorced and remarried? Who gets to go?

What if a family has 3 children or more? Who gets to go (or pays for a babysitter)?

What if a family has 2 parents and 2 grandparents that attend their only grandchild’s events like ours?

The stepdad bows out and gives up his seat so both grandparents can go, that’s what happens. And even though I know it’s doesn’t bother The Man too much, it still kinda stings. And rather than being a celebration, it becomes a compromise, which kinda ruins the whole thing. Shame on the school that can’t accommodate families when all they want to do is celebrate their child. Together.