my anchor

Posted on August 29, 2018 by smilesandducttape

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How’d college drop-off go?

As soon as we left the house, I grabbed Anna’s hand and said, “It took us eighteen years to prepare for this drive.” I was bawling before we left Clinton Avenue.

It was a long two days of loading and unloading and setting up and last minute shopping and crying, before we kissed Anna good-bye and headed home to our new chapter. The house seems a little too quiet, but I’m not as sad as I’d expected. Sad would mean that I’m waking up in the middle of the night crying and sitting in Anna’s room counting the days until she comes home for Thanksgiving break (81 – maybe I am counting a little, but I’m staying clear of her room). I’m not sad, instead I’d describe it as feeling lost.

I’m getting along fine and then something will hit me. The empty stool at the kitchen island or the missing pile of shoes at the front door. I’m missing that fight in the morning when there’s no milk for my coffee because Anna and her friends had late-night bowls of cereal while watching Gilmore Girls. I miss Anna’s boyfriend, Will, racing into our house and wrestling a hug out of Jack. I miss the dirty dishes in the sink. I keep wondering when Anna will be home for dinner before remembering that she won’t be home for three months.

I also miss the chaos of being an everyday parent of a typical kid.

Anna has been our anchor to typical parenting. She’s linked us to her typical schools with their typical sports and typical classes. She’s had piles of typical friends that filled our house with typical snacks and typical teenage drama. She allowed us to get distracted from IEPs and changing G-tubes, because we needed to worry about curfews and grades and other typical stuff.

Being Jack’s mother is my honor and I love (almost) every ounce of parenting him, but it’s different. It’s not the parenting that you read about in novels or watch in movies. It’s not the parenting that MOST of my friends have experienced. It’s not the same parenting that raised me or raised Dan. I pride myself in not needing to be like everyone else, but it has been nice to be part of the conversation when people are talking about t-ball, middle school drama, first boyfriends, driving tests, and college essays.

I’m scared that without my anchor I will be left adrift.

The biggest accomplishments of my life have been as a mother. I am not pretending that I’ve been a perfect parent. There’s a long list of mistakes I’ve made along the way (things I wish I had taken more seriously – things that I did that make me cringe) but, when I look at our two children, I’m so proud of what I helped to create. I’ve grown to embrace being part of Jack’s beautiful, complicated life, and I’ve also loved being anchored to the day-to-day typical parenting world thanks to Anna.

I know that parenting isn’t over when kids head off to school or go to work or start their own families. I just hurt my toe (long story that means I will never go into Trader Joe’s again without wearing boots), and the first person I called was my mother. The last few days Anna has reached out to share stories about her first days on campus. I know I will be part of Anna’s life forever, but my anchor is now 156 miles away. She will no longer share every detail of her experiences. She will make friends that I will never meet and do things that I haven’t signed off on or understand. She is starting her new life. I’ll always be part of it, but a smaller part than I was a week ago.

I’m trying to get my bearings and am really trying not to overdo the calling/texting/face-timing. I want to give Anna space to fly, but it’s hard not to hear her voice around the house, “Mooommmmmm, where’s my backpack/curling iron/charger?” “Mooommmmmmm, what’s for dinner?!?” “Mooommmm, can I take the car?!?”

Jack is doing a great job of keeping me distracted. As I’m writing this (on the couch, with my foot elevated and covered with a pile of ice), Jack is sitting next to me laughing at his Impractical Jokers. Jack might not be “typical”, but he sure is great company!
Love, Jess

PS Anna isn’t just a pleasure to parent, she’s the best friend I could ever ask for. Maybe I am a little sad. Just a little. Enjoy every second Blue Jay Banana, but don’t forget to FaceTime!!!

the labyrinth

Posted on August 23, 2018 by smilesandducttape

Just getting home from Block Island. It was a quiet stay this year and we loved having solo time with PopPop and Sue and getting to spend time just the four of us. Have I mentioned that Anna is leaving for college soon?

On our second day we went to Block Island’s Labyrinth. There was something about quietly walking a labyrinth that seemed like the perfect activity for our family as we prepare for a ton of change. Years ago I photographed a labyrinth for a local paper. I Googled the word before I left for the shoot, not really understanding the particulars of the definition. The three stages of the walk are releasing, receiving and returning. As you follow the path within, you are to shed your thoughts, quiet your mind and open your heart. While at the center, you meditate or pray, allowing yourself to receive guidance. Then you follow the same path out, thinking more clearly and feeling empowered. The whole thing sounded kinda cheesy, but after the shoot, I gave it a try and I found it more powerful than I’d expected. I felt calm and at peace. Last week I was looking for some calm and peace and wanted to share the experience with my family.

I encouraged them to take it seriously, “No talking. Just walk. Take it all in. Follow the path and let your thoughts wander.”

Knowing I’m a little fragile these days, my family hid their rolling eyes and agreed. Anna led the way, trying to help her brother along. It was quiet and beautiful. There are no decisions to be made when walking a labyrinth. It winds around, but there is only one way in and you follow the same path out. A needed departure from the endless decisions we make every day. One step at a time we all moved forward. Within a minute, Jack got distracted, let go of his sister’s hand and started making his own path. I laughed at the image of Dan, Anna and I staying the course as our boy did his own thing. Very much our family, no matter the circumstances. We all stayed silent and I started to really get into it – I felt more relaxed than I had in a long time, enjoying the rhythm of my steps on the sandy path.

Half-way through, the spell was abruptly broken. Dan yelled, “Crap – Jack STOPPPPP!”

I looked up and saw Dad run after Jack as he bolted down the hill toward the street. Just a few moments of no one watching and he had managed to plan an escape. Block Island is not known for it’s traffic, but Jack heading to Corn Neck Road without assistance was enough to have us all in a panic. I imagined a pile of mopeds piled up on our boy.

Just when you think everything is perfect, Jack likes to shake things up for us.

Thank goodness for the stone wall at the end of the path. Jack reached the bottom of the path in record time, but took one look at the wall and the ladder to climb to the other side and gave up his plan. Too much work for our boy. He turned around to the arms of his dad. He and Dan walked back up the hill with his mischievous smile telling us all he knew exactly what he was doing. The boys watched from a stone bench as their girls finished up the Labyrinth. Jack had given us all a little detour from our relaxation, but our family is used to detours.

Love, Jess

We drop off Banana tomorrow. Just another detour;)

happy birthday JackO!!

Posted on August 6, 2018 by smilesandducttape

What were you doing in your life when you turned 20?

I was living in Baltimore – a junior at Goucher College, studying art. I was trying to balance keeping up with my studies while enjoying every ounce of social time that I could. Dan was a student at Johns Hopkins and studying in Florence for the year. He was learning a new language and traveling throughout Europe with a very thin wallet and a EuroRail Pass.

When we started our family and I would dare to think about the future, like most parents, I imagined our children following a similar path to what Dan and I took. I didn’t think of if Jack and Anna would go to college, but where they would go. Whether they would study art or a language or the law. I hoped they would make good choices and stay out of too much trouble.

Having a special child, you need to learn how to shift your expectations and letting go of the college dream for Jack is something I did long ago, but with each birthday I’d be lying if I said I didn’t pause for a moment and think if only . . .

Instead of college, Jack greeted his 20th birthday still attending his high school and living at home. He requires assistance with everything from eating to showering to getting dressed to toileting to getting into bed. It’s not the life I ever imagined for our son, but as I celebrated his 20th birthday with him, all I kept thinking was how happy he is.

Jack partied all weekend long! Pool time with his buddies Peter and Orla, a party on our deck with close friends, and he even got to spend time with his oldest friend, Caleb. Today the party continued as he celebrated with his buddies at school. As I watched him enjoy all the attention, I realized there’s no need for if only just WOW! What a great life our boy is living!

Life at 20 can vary. It’s that age that straddles the end of childhood and beginning of adulthood. One thing that most people have in common at that age is that everything seems possible. Jack’s life is different than most, but I still believe that anything is possible. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JACKO!!

Love, Jess