xyla ♡

Last night, when I was sitting here on the porch playing my computer game, one of my neighbors came home. I've seen her a few times, saying hi or giving a smile and nod. But she asked me if I wanted some flowers. She's a florist and brought some of the flowers home. She said she sees me sitting out here regularly and thought I might like them. We chatted a bit and she's a really sweet girl. She also loves my flags and the stickers on my car. It was something I needed for an even better night.



Today, I'm sitting out on the porch again. It's so beautifully cool outside. I don't even need to put my fan on. I'm taking time to do some writing again (this here, actually). I shared the poll with a few friends/communities that I'm part of. Hubby is out getting the Birthday Boy his special lunch as well as lunch for the rest of us. Taco Bell. Not my favorite, but it's the one time I eat it without asking for another stop somewhere else. I'm taking bets on how many of the twelve-pack of tacos he'll have finished for lunch and how few will be left for dinner.

I got a bluetooth wireless speaker for outside on the porch. It's fairly powerful so I need to be careful about not having it up too loud. I love to listen to music or audio books when I'm sitting on the porch. I've chosen a YouTube Music mix that it made for me called "Theatrical Storytelling" - songs from musicals or movies that tell part of the story. I love musicals, though I don't get out to see them nearly as often as I'd like. Having this playlist gives me a list of the next musicals I need to see. (I've never seen the stage version of Wicked so that's at the top of my list. Hadestown is another one.) I'm also listening to the faint tinkle of the wind hitting my agate windchimes. They've faded so much in the last two years. But they still sound beautiful. And that's what matters most.

I smell rain on the air. I hope so. I love watching the rain if I don't have to go out into it. And I've got enough of a lip from the balcony above me that I can sit safely here with my laptop and enjoy the weather. The only thing missing (aside from the rain yet) is a vodka and Dr Pepper.

As of tomorrow, there will be no children left in my home. BtY is turning 18.

I'm having a hard time with that thought. I think some of it is because, emotionally, he's about two years behind his physical age. He's starting to take on responsibility and understanding more like a 16 year old than an 18 year old. So for all that my brain acknowledges that he's going to be 18, my heart says, "No! He's my baby! He's not old enough to be considered an adult!"

We found out that BtY was on the autism wheel in the strangest way. In his Parents Day Out class, he was acting out, acting younger than his age. It was suggested that we bring him to someone for testing. And what we found, through Pediatric Rehab, was that he had Sensory Perception Disorder. (For those unfamiliar, it's a processing disorder where your brain doesn't accurately keep track of where you are in space, where you're more or less sensitive to textures... that kind of thing.) We took him to a local program called Regional Intervention Program, or RIP. It was to help both young children (think before school age) and their parents navigate behavior issues. I got a lot more out of it than BtY did. But I wouldn't trade that time for anything else.

When he started kindergarten, I already had his IEP in place. I'd requested DtE's teacher from kindergarten because I already had a report with her, and BtY knew her. She was great working with me to meet him where he could be. (All his teachers have been. I've been very lucky with the teachers my kids have had.) We found out that he had ADHD when he stabbed a classmate with a pencil. He didn't do it out of anger or to be mean. He just didn't yet have the capacity to pause before every action to decide if it was a good one. He was suspended for a day because of it (even though the principal understood, her hands were tied on this.) But we got him meds and things were a bit better.

It wasn't until his three year reevaluation for his IEP that Autism was even a thought. The school psychologist had to meet with him and, when we had the meeting, suggested we have him tested. She said she couldn't officially say that he was Autistic, she would lay odds that he was. She had difficulty getting him to engage (this was around his 9th birthday, and she tried to engage him with talk about his birthday), he refused to make eye contact... just a lot of little things.

We we able to get the diagnosis, partly through a study at Vanderbilt that dealt with ASD in children. They were looking at how pre-teens and teens handled going through puberty. And an advantage was they officially tested him. And learning more about it, I realize that I was probably neurodivergent as well. A lot of the things he'd do were the same I'd done as a child, before I learned how to handle things. But it gave us a place to start and it let us get accommodations for him. Sometimes officially, like being able to test alone in a room so he could fidget as he needed, sometimes unofficially, like his teachers that would let him sit under a table during class because he needed to be small.

For all of that, I still made a lot of mistakes with him. I let my anger get the better of me. I didn't accept that I needed to keep a closer eye on him to get things done than I'd ever had to with his sister. I over-punished. I apologized to him a lot, and tried to find a common ground. I just could never quite get there.

For the last year or two, I've noticed so much growth in him. Not "Hey, he can go live on his own any day now" (Hell, my 20 year old isn't there yet.) But he's starting to talk to me more. He's coming in to give me random hugs, which he never used to do. He's recognizing that he's got chores and that getting them done helps the whole family - and gets him allowance money. He's still struggling with getting school-work done. He's got a real aversion to asking for help or telling someone that he doesn't understand. But he's getting better with that too. He'll tell Hubby or DtE or I when he's having trouble with one of his assignments and we try to help him. (Though there are a lot of times when I have to remember "help" not "do for".) He just came out a little while ago to sweep the porch. Not for any real reason, though he said it was because his head hurt. Don't ask me, I don't always understand my kid! :)

So tomorrow, he's going to officially be an adult. Which means some phone calls to get him accounts on things that I had access to before but won't have access to once he's an adult. And he'll have the day to do what he wants - there are no live lessons because of professional development days. He still needs to do work, but he told me today that he was going to work hard on his work today so he didn't have as much for tomorrow. (The maturity, it comes!) And he'll get his box of tacos as his birthday dinner.

One of the joys of SPD and ASD is the limited pallet that he's got. It's gotten better over the years. It used to be only chicken nugget happy meals with chocolate milk. (And drinking lots of chocolate milk at home.) Over the years, he's tried new things and found that he enjoys them. Things like tacos without lettuce at Taco Bell, or his dad's tacos. And carrots. He'll eat a whole bag if given the chance. He used to like apples, but not so much anymore.

I'm so glad to see him continuing to grow. I'm glad that he's reaching adulthood without me ending up in jail or insane. But there's still the part of me that remembers him as my baby, my little Cranky Tomato. And yeah, he'll always be my baby. But somehow... this just feels different.