His Calendar

Each of us are processing the impending move from Bamaham to SMALLtown, GA in our own unique ways.  I've been cleaning like my life depended on it and having random crying jags.  Mr. Snark has been talking with Realtors, the relocation coordinator, and just nearly every mortgage peddler on the planet.  (Note to all the mortgage peddlers...with our credit rating, you need to bring the good stuff...we've earned it!)  Y1 talks about the last time he'll have to do this, that and the other with his Bamaham Tribe.  Y2, well, he's much more introspective.  That's pretty amazing for him.  Anyone who knows my brown-eyed baby will tell you that he doesn't skimp on words.  If it doesn't take fifteen minutes to tell you about his walk from the bus stop to the house (1/2 a block), he's not satisfied.  There's no sense in pushing him into conversation.  He's the stubborn sort (wonder where he gets it) and will sit down like an old mule rather than say one word before he's ready.  He hasn't been in the conversational mood with me, but he has been talking to his calendar.

I walked into his room, on Friday morning, to do a last minute check before our realtor came to take pictures for the online listing.  My eye caught his calendar.  He made a notation on September 4: "Realtirs."  His spelling, not mine.  That's when we met with our two assigned agents to decide who would list the house.  On September 16, he wrote:  "Start job."  That's the day Mr. Snark reports for duty at The Plant.  After that, he has one word for the remaining days of the month:  "Prepare."  I had to laugh and quickly thank God for evidence that he truly is thinking about it.  The last thing I want is for him to bottle it up and just push it all down because he doesn't know what to do or what to say.  This is a big deal for all of us, but especially for him.  He was four when we left south Georgia in 2005.  We've been here since he was in First grade, so this is home.  This is where the majority of his memories are.  We're asking a lot of him.  We're expecting a lot of him and sometimes I wonder if we're expecting more of him than what he can give?  Is this the final straw...will this be the childhood event that keeps him on the therapist's couch for most of his adult life? 

We've tried our level best to help The Younglings understand that life is hard.  It just is.  Sometimes you can change the level of difficulty.  Sometimes you can't.  Sometimes you just have to accept, adapt and move forward.  Whining, while a natural human impulse, is a waste of time.  This is one of those moments that tests a person's character.  Do you rise to meet the challenge or do you skulk in the corner and wait for the change to go away? 

Maybe, if you're a twelve year old boy, you get a Sharpie marker and talk to your calendar.  "Prepare."

Comments

  1. Ah, yes. Been there, done that many times, and it doesn't get easier AT ALL as they grow older. Praying for you all as you "prepare!"

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment