Short Sunday

There shall be some Scorched Haven sometime this next week--sorry about the skipped weekend, though, it's been a little busy.

For those of you who have been here through the long haul, it's recital season, and once again, Chicken, Mate, and I have volunteered to help. Tomorrow Chicken is arriving and she's staying the two weeks for the recital, and that's exciting because, you know, Chicken coming back to roost. But yesterday was meetings and getting dance shoes, and yikes, there goes the day, and today? Well, Big T is graduating from Junior College with an AA in theater, and THAT deserved at least a family dinner at Island Burger.

By the way? I know I don't talk much about the older kids in recent years, because they have their own lives and their own social media, but I need to take a moment here and talk about how proud I am of my son.

The waitress at Island Burger asked if we were celebrating something, and we told her about the AA, and she was like, "Oh wow. I have another two years to go. That's special!"

And T? Well, he was embarrassed, but he also lit up. A pretty girl just told him he had done something impressive, and I think it hit him. He had, and it wasn't easy. I don't know many kids who would listen to the audiobook, read the regular book and check out two kinds of notes in order to get his reading material for school, but that's what it took sometimes, and T was happy to do it. Every interaction with a teacher, every interaction with a fellow student, every paper he wrote, had to be rehearsed and researched and thought about intensely. That wall in his head, the one that has defined his processing disorder--that has never gone away. He has had to scale the wall, run around the wall, drill holes in the wall, and hold a stethoscope to the wall to figure out what the rest of the world was trying to tell him. The wall will never crumbled--ever. And it hasn't always been easy. So when we tell him we're proud of him? When we make plans to buy him a bicycle and he makes plans to spend 2 hours a day on a bus to get to school?

We're proud of him. There are just no words for how awesome my son is, and what a good and brave heart he has.

So anyway-- that deserved a little bit of verbiage.  Big T is moving on to Sac State. Goddess bless him, that kid is going to forge a destiny for himself, and my heart could burst.

Oh--and so did the following moments, both of which are already on FB, but need to be made permanent on the blog:

*  Mate's aunt sent us a picture taken back in the winter of 01/02.  I said, "Oh! Hey! Was I younger and skinnier?"

"No," he said. "You're not in the picture, but here's Big T and Chicken, look how young they are!"

"I am too in that picture!" I protested. "I'm holding hands with your grandmother."

"That's not you. You don't wear vests."

"That is to me. I'm wearing a scarf."

"No it's not-- it's my Aunt Marge!"

"Yes it is--look at my glasses!"

"Oh my God."

"At least we know I'm hotter now, right?"

"Well, you're not my Aunt Marge!"

I most certainly am not.

*  And I shit you not, this next one actually happened.

I took a nap for an hour before we got ready for dinner.  I woke up, got ready, got in the car, and boom. It hit me.

"ZoomBoy?" I said, uncertain. "Did you feed me a mint Oreo while I was sleeping?"

"Yes," he said.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because it was the last one in the box, and it would be rude to eat it without asking. I was being polite."

"Uh, thank you!"

Of course by this time, the whole family was dying of laughter, and now I'm almost afraid. How many cookies CAN mom be fed while she's asleep? Too many, I am absolutely sure.