...even if it happens to be Friday the 13th. Bah. I am just thanking the good Lord for seeing me through to another weekend.
My appreciation for Friday typically begins Thursday night. Friday is Trash Day and the cans can be on the curb anytime after 5pm Thursday. I get absolutely giddy at the sight of receptacles on the curb. That means when I awaken, it will be to the sound of a garbage truck barreling down my street and to another Friday morning ~ the gateway to another weekend.
Every Friday that passes also gets me closer to a reunion with J. It gets us closer to the holidays and closer to moving, which is truly bittersweet. Lately, I've found myself getting emotional at the thought of leaving our "new family" behind. These are the very special people we have allowed in our "bubble". To a special needs family, a bubble is where you feel your child is safest. It's a a place where we can be ourselves. It's where we don't have to explain why our children don't walk or talk or why they drool and are 5 and still in diapers. It includes people who know and love us--people we are in contact with regularly. People who understand and appreciate our daily struggles and triumphs. Bubble People like Isaiah's therapists ~ especially PT Larry and his assistant, Johnna, who saw Isaiah's potential from the start and have accepted nothing less for over a year and a half.
I have been tearing up every time I cross the Tacoma Narrows Bridge lately knowing our PT visits are numbered. It's hard to explain the complexity of the relationships and the emotions involved. The closest bond I could think of would be one with an excellent childcare provider. One who loves your child, understands your child, who disciplines with love and respect, and never tries to take your place. Someone who listens to you and your concerns for your child. Someone who makes your dreams for your child their dreams for your child.
I attended 4 Parent/Teacher conferences this week. And each time I broke the news that the kids would not be returning after Christmas Break, I was met with the same shock and sadness from every single teacher. My kids might not be the highest-achieving students in class, but if their teachers' reactions to the news of their leaving was any indication, they are amazing little people who have made quite an impression. And apparently, they are going to be sorely missed. Makes me feel that despite the fact that we have to uproot the kids every few years, J and I have done something right.
The Brownies will be on the move again soon, and DC area--we are looking for a few good Bubble People.