Monkey #1 will be 13 on the 25th of May. *sigh* I will officially be the mother of a teenager. And not just any teenager – one with Asperger’s. Teenage hormonal issues are enough, without the addition of Asperger’s. Puberty has just started to hit here in Happy Monkey Land – making things not so happy at times. Of course, it is a little hard to figure out which is a hormone meltdown, and which is the general run of the mill Asperger meltdown.
Tomorrow is his “Rite 13” ceremony at church. It is a time when the church welcomes all of these burgeoning teenagers in to the adult fold – and they transition into the youth groups. Kinda like the Episcopal version of a Bar Mitzvah – without all the chanting. 😉 But it is a part of the service, where they figuratively move from their families to the youth.
Tonight, there is a dinner for the Rite 13ers and their families. As a part of it, their parents are to write a letter to their child. Lovely little sentiments giving pithy wisdom about entering adulthood. Reflecting on memories of their childhoods and the adults they will be.
And for a person who has so many words running through my head all the time – I am stumped as to what to say to him. I am drawing a complete blank. Nothing is coming easily to me – at all.
I could tell him about the challenges he will face as a teenager – but I don’t really know what they will be. His challenges will be – make that are – so different from mine, simply because of his Asperger’s.
I could tell him about what his adulthood will be like – but, I don’t really know what it will be. His experiences will be different from mine.
(Of course, my block isn’t helped by the fact that The Middle Monkey and The Girl Child are currently screaming at each other. But, I digress.)
I guess I just don’t know how to take all the words I want to say to him as a mother and put them down on a piece of paper.
I want to tell him how proud I am of how he deals with his challenges.
How I love the fact that he isn’t afraid to let his “freak flag fly.”
How I love the way he will still crawl into bed with me and snuggle. Or rub my feet. Or scratch my back. And how he will still hold my hand IN PUBLIC!
How through all the trials and tribulations of his life, I can’t imagine my life without him in it.
Huh…I think I just found my words.