Lots to tell you about, but I'm really just not in the mood. Rojo continues to say profound/spiritual/deeply resonating things several times a day, always at the moment you're ready to kill him and/or go for the bottle. I am too old/tired/emotional/menopausal to write them all down or even fully appreciate them at this moment.
We've had a great summer - our best ever. Rojo is not ready to go back to school, he's dreading the work, the homework, in particular. He would go on living his summer life forever, if possible: working at the preschool 9-1, riding his bike, swimming, going for frozen yogurt with his wide range of friends, being outside in good weather, finding the ice cream truck every day, etc. It's the good life and he's loving it.
The teacher at the preschool, Sandy, said this year he is much more of a leader, and less of a peer to the preschoolers. He is already talking about doing it again next summer, and God willing, Sandy won't retire and that will be possible. For sure when he is done with high school, I need to find him a similar job.
We had someone from Ride Connection come out to the house yesterday - she was going to chat with Rojo, and form a plan for helping him learn to ride the bus - alone. She would ride it with him for as many times as necessary, until he could manage it entirely on his own. We're not talking transfers and distant places. We're talking learning how to catch it two blocks from our house, go somewhere nearby (without me), and come home. Rojo was all for it. I made sure to get his buy-in before even calling them. We had it on the calendar, we talked about it several times. He answered the door when she came. Two minutes into it he said, "That's it for me, I'm out of here," and stomped upstairs.
Poor timing.
I should never have tried to throw this on him as he's transitioning from Woohoo being home, to Woohoo being gone, as he's saying goodbye to summer, and hello to school, as he's barely gotten used to being 16, let alone ready to start talking about being 18. I rushed things, such is my way.
As my brother is always saying, "Slowly, slowly." There is wisdom in that, deep wisdom that I am able to occasionally tap into.
Slowly.
Breathe.
Slowly.
Breathe.
Repeat.
Amen.
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I want to share a little concept I'm exploring, that of being an "excellent mother" not a perfect mother.
YOU are an excellent mother.
Period.
Be gentle with yourself, please.
Ditto, Michelle.
Love you.
I just LOVE the preschool job, that it's been so great for him. And the next time I'm not ready for something, "That's it for me, I'm out of here" will be on my mind if not my lips. Thank you, Rojo, and thank you, Carrie.
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