11/15/2022
It’s a necessary thing to explain to new friends that as a single mom of a certain kind of special needs kid: No, I can’t just go out tonight or for lunch today or (heaven help me) on dates, spur of the moment or without much thought or, more often than not, at all.
I’m so lucky My Boy has gotten to a point where, if another adult is around and he has electronics, he’s usually good for an hour or two. We think by the time he’s 18-21 he might be mostly self-sufficient, if not entirely independent.
But he’s also 13, and the amount of work it took to get us to this place most people simply wouldn’t be able to understand.
I want to be kind and gentle and patient when people start to realize that, yes, I AM actually with my kiddo 24/7/52.
But explaining, usually more than once to the same person, can be triggering.
It reminds me of how lonely I felt in the beginning when this was all new and I realized life was going to be different than I had imagined.
And how easy it is to feel lonely again.
Lonely here on this island of all the things My Boy loves and needs to live his best life and give him his best future,
And me choosing to live with him.
Choosing to be his person.
Lonely with my choice to put his needs higher than my own.
The same choice I will make again tomorrow.
And the day after.
And the day after that.
Because no matter how I might miss the party on the mainland,
Our little island is infinitely more beautiful.
And he is infinitely more worthy of my time than all of the girl’s nights in the world.
❤️
P.S.
His first D’uucles chicken egg. Which was tinier even than how it comes across in pictures.
Because he loves chickens.
