Everyday, after Josh gets out of school, we have about 2 hours before Dylan comes home, and another ½ hour or so, before Madison shows up.
People often have told me that Josh wont ever be like “Other kids” and most times, Im ok with it. Do I really want him to be like “Everyone else”, what IS the real definition of normal? Yea, I trip just about every other day, over some stupid comment, or thought that has crossed my path. But for the most part, I really am ok with him. Being who he is. How he is. Im pretty much happy to have him here, to have full custody of him, to not have to have him worry about living with his dad, or being sent around to different homes. To have him healthy, and mostly happy. Most times, that is enough. Even though it seems that as of lately, things have been negative, things have been pretty good.
Really. Shocker, I know.
For the most part, we are striving to put the pieces back. Not how they were, but trying instead to find where they belong now. Not trying to recreate the past, but trying to put the pieces where they need to be, for what they all the “New Normal.” Which is something I often, despise.
I don’t want the new, I want the old. But I know I cant have the old, and the only way. The ONLY way to move on, is to accept that…and move on.
It hasn’t been easy. Its been far from easy. We arent there yet, wherever there is. But its ok. Really. Were here. Where we are, and that is ok. It has to be.
Sometimes it takes more convincing. More convincing myself that it IS ok, that THIS IS ok, that it IS ok. I have to remind myself of that quite often…because a lot of the time, it just doesn’t seem ok. It just doesn’t. Nothing seems right. Most of the time, everything seems quite off.
But it is ok. Really.
Molly used to wait at the window, for the kids to come home. The hour after her nap, and before the kids came home, often seemed the longest. When she would sit at the window and whine, and ask what time it was, if it was time, if she could go, what time it was, if it was time, and well, you get the idea. At 3:15 I would fight her into her shoes and coat, open the door and watch her coat come off as she ran her heart out to the bottom of the hill, where she would wait.
It was the perfect combination. She got her freedom, I was able to watch her.
Most days she would throw rocks, kick the dirt, pick leaves, throw them in the air…but some days, she sat still. Waiting. As anticipation built inside. She sat on a rock at the bottom of the drive way, thinking she was free. That she was so big, waiting for the bus. Alone.
When the bus would come, she would jump, and I could almost hear her scream. The kids would run off and give her the hug she would be waiting for, and together, they would race up the hill and into the house.
It was the 15 minutes that she looked forward to everyday. Every single day, she would wait. She would get excited, ditch her coat and run. Run. Run.
Yesterday I took Josh out to meet the kids. We walked a few yards away from the house and stood at the main road waiting for the bus to show up. I don’t know if he really understood what we were doing, but he got the idea when the bus showed up (after initially freaking out) that the kids were home…and just like with Molly they ran off the bus and gave him a hug. The hug he had been waiting for all afternoon.
This afternoon, as the time got closer for the kids to come home, he brought me his coat.
And a thousand and one thoughts ran through my head as I helped him get his shoes on and walked him down the road, to get the kids off the bus.