On Turning 21 in 2020

I have mixed feelings about my son turning 21 in this year of pandemic and turmoil.

His 21st birthday, even in a pre-COVID19 world, would not be like most kids’ celebrations as they come into “legal” age. I could be disappointed about that for him.

But at this time, I’m just relieved we don’t have to argue with him about the safety of going out—like some of his young adult peers who are ignoring medical experts and partying as if they (and their loved ones) are invincible.

He stayed home for pizza and cake and games with his parents instead.

Unlike most others his age, he’s not working or going to school, and that’s a loss in some ways. 

But, at this time, I don’t have worry over the safety of his job, if his college campus will be open in the fall, if his dreams and ambitions will be delayed. 

From home, he shared a virtual roller coaster ride with his friends from his day program, and listened to everyone singing a joyous if slightly disjointed “Happy Birthday” song on their regular Friday Zoom meeting. 

Although my son is coming of age during an important time in our country’s history—a time when many of his same-age peers are getting involved in political activism for the first time, debating over issues of great importance to our nation and (hopefully) gearing up to vote on them—he’s unable to play an active part or voice his opinion. I’m sad about that, remembering the causes I began to care about when I was his age.

But at this time, I’m also grateful that I can keep him home safe with me. 

Inside our home, we read simplified articles about current events (News2You is a great resource) and talk about what’s going on outside of these walls—about protests and safety and masks; about how we can do our part to take care of our community. We are privileged in this choice to stay home, even as we have our own struggles with this, too.

Mostly, we are rolling along as we usually do. 

Praise song for the Day excerpt

Birthday or not, our “usual” includes continuing to help him manage his anxiety. That virtual roller coaster ride is reflective of his moods lately; they course through peaks and valleys every day. This pandemic-induced pause has allowed me time (and opened a need) to find some new calming music and videos, and we’re trying out some new strategies to keep all of us on a more even keel.

One benefit to this isolation and repetitive home-bound routine is that, while it is difficult to be without any in-person support providers, the worry of how his behavior impacts others has essentially gone away, since it’s just us. Plus, if he needs to take a day off from whatever his mom puts on the daily “to do” list? It’s OK.

Because guess what?

There’s an identical day tomorrow during which we can try again.

bird silverstein

Another addition to our life in 2020: I’ve started reading poems with my son. I was inspired by a podcast where author Cheryl Strayed talked with former US poet laureate Billy Collins about the comfort of reading poetry. My son missed out on a lot of rich literature in his mostly functional-based education, and I have to admit that I’ve not studied poetry much.

But it sounded familiar when Billy described a certain power in memorizing lines of poetry—a task that his students first see as tedious, but later come to treasure as the rhythmic words and imagery become a part of them, to be “summoned up” when something in daily life sparks a memory of those lines.

How is this so different from the “scripting” we hear from my son’s early books (so many of them written in rhyme), from his movies, and even TV commercial jingles? He “summons up” language he’s memorized all the time as he makes connections to what he sees and hears. Why not give him some enriching words from Emerson and Shel Silverstein, from Maya Angelou and Langston Hughes?

He’s been very receptive to our short poetry sessions (with his mom attempting to perform mini poetry slams). He seems intrigued by the cadences and rhymes, even if the language is complicated, and its been a calming, low-stress activity we can do together.

Speaking of reading out loud, it may not be your typical 21st birthday milestone, but my son is finally letting me read Harry Potter to him. He hasn’t been ready for this until now—but I suggested it (again) a few weeks ago, and now we’re halfway through the first book! Even though it’s only a few pages every few nights, I’m liking this development very much.

It’s quite, shall I say, magical?

HP poem

So, cheers to 21, kid. I’m happy to celebrate with you, in our own way, as we always do. Even in this strange year of 2020.

Stay Quirky, and stay safe, my friends.

B at 21

 

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Keep Calm and Prepare

So.

I woke up with a scratchy throat, a headache, and a brain full of doomsday scenarios.

It’s probably allergies. Or maybe a minor cold. 

Heck, even if it is the coronavirus, odds are we will still get through it OK. Most people do, they say, right?

But still, I worry.

We’ve been staying home for several weeks now, except for brief trips to the grocery or post office (followed by extreme scrub downs of all hands and items before entering the house). I swear we’ve been so careful.

But still, I worry.

I’ve been doing a lot of prep for the “stay home” thing – making sure we have all the right food, activities, supplies. 

But I haven’t really planned for getting sick. Read More

Talk it Out

You know that feeling you get when you gather with friends or family and swap stories? When you tell and re-tell those crazy things that happened to you, with everyone else nodding and laughing along? 

I wish my son could tell his stories.

You know that feeling when someone you just met tells a story that resonates with you? When you get past the perfunctory “what do you do” questions and hear something familiar that you didn’t expect?

I wish people could get to know my son that way.

And, you know that feeling when a friend or a therapist helps you unpack some troubling experience? When you figure out how to verbalize how you felt in that moment, or what you think it means now?

I wish, for all the world, that my son could share his thoughts and worries.

This is not just a selfish mom-wish to hear his voice. Read More

Settling In

I’m finally seeing the light through the endless pile of boxes. 

I knew this move into our new home with an attached apartment for our special needs son would be a stressful time.

Boy, was I right about that.

But we’re here and we’re settling in.

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We had hired movers to bring over our furniture on moving day, and our plan was to use the first few days after we moved in to pack up the rest of our stuff on our own, make some repairs, clean and be fully moved out of the old house by the end of the week. Easy peasy.

All of these plans were thrown into uncertainty when my husband’s back chose to seize up on the first morning in the new house, leaving him in tremendous pain and out of commission for several days.

We were unnerved because he’s never had back problems before, and our kid’s anxiety about the move was now compounded by worry about why Dad wasn’t getting out of bed.  Read More