Drifting through memory...
I'm in a haze of exhaustion. The hubby started his new job on Monday and I went from 5 mph to 500 overnight. Running the kids to and from school. Running out for food. Pokemon Go! and trips to GameStop...and the teen is operating on his own schedule forcing me to run him around separately. He's so tired, he can't function in the morning. I just want both boys in the car at the same time. One trip. It seems such a simple request. But I end up taking Max to school first and the teen is late and getting later every day.
Max crawled into bed with me last night and proceeded to hit, kick and knee me in the spine. He's a very restless sleeper. Violent, even. At one point, he hit me in the stomach so hard, I yelped in pain. He says, in his sleep, "didn' know they could bark..." If my eyes weren't watering in pain, I would have burst out laughing. No idea what he was dreaming about. He still got up on time and made it to school and I was left lying in bed in a daze. I was sooo looking forward to going back to sleep. Hubby's first meeting was actually in NJ less than an hour away so he was able to take the boys to school. But the teen couldn't get it together. Mom is on deck again.
My brain went into overdrive as I contemplated going back to sleep for just a little while before trying to get the teen moving again. Sleep? No chance. I started thinking about whether he will ever be able to function independently. Will he be able to live on his own? Get himself up for work? Learn to drive? I had my learner's permit at 15 and a half and was driving myself to the public transportation bus stop across town at 16. On my own. The teen will be 16 at the beginning of December and I'm having a hard time imagining him driving. His autism and ADHD are some serious hurdles.
I drifted through thoughts of my teen years. I went to a private Catholic high school several towns away from my home. They didn't provide busing, so I had to take public transportation. MBTA bus from the outskirts of Bedford to Arlington Heights, where I would change buses. A Harvard Square bus (yes, THAT Harvard) to the center of downtown Arlington where I would hop off, cross 4 lanes of heavy traffic (Rt. 2a/3) and down a side street to my school. All that starting at age 14. I still find it hard to fathom how my parents could stick me on a city bus and send me so far away at such a young age. Don't get me wrong, I LOVED it. It was a great school and I was thrilled to have passed the entrance exam. It's just...looking back as a mom, I would be terrified to let one of my kids travel so far, unsupervised.
I'm pretty proud of myself. It was a huge confidence boost. My friend Kathleen and I grew rather bold and adventurous. We had a bus pass. That bus we took every day did go all the way into Boston. Why not ride it to Harvard Square and have a look around? Such great adventures. My mother would have had a heart attack if she knew. Browsing around Newbury Comics. Walking the campus at Harvard. I wonder why I never applied there. Oh yes. My parents couldn't afford it and no one ever told me about scholarships. I may have been bold and somewhat adventurous, but I was still an ignorant teen and made a lot of mistakes. Ah, the good old days.
I kinda wish I could rewind time for a bit. We did choir. We did tennis. We filled our after school hours with just hanging around the school parking lot or the bus station. Why didn't we go into Boston more? Probably because we were perpetually broke and lacked imagination. I wish I'd taken advantage of my student status and gone to the museums. Walked the waterfront. Hung out at Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market. Oh man, I could really go for a slice of Pizzeria Regina pie right now.
We were so fit and full of energy. I really miss that. My teen has no idea how lucky he is to be coming into his own. What a great age to be. There is a bus stop right down the hill from us. I'm torn between encouraging him to explore and terrified he might hop on and head into NYC. New York of today is NOT Boston of early the 1980s. I never felt in danger on the bus or walking around the city. Just an occasional homeless guy at the bus station or trying to sit with the kids on the bus. The bus driver was actually right on top of things. He never let anyone bother us. There's another thing I haven't thought about since those days. The surly but kind bus drivers. There were a couple we got to know pretty well because they drove the same route at the same time each day.
And now it's almost 11:30 and the teen is still sleeping. I don't think he's making it to school today. We need to revisit sleep strategies with his therapist. His sleep disorder is getting out of control again. And back to reality.
Max crawled into bed with me last night and proceeded to hit, kick and knee me in the spine. He's a very restless sleeper. Violent, even. At one point, he hit me in the stomach so hard, I yelped in pain. He says, in his sleep, "didn' know they could bark..." If my eyes weren't watering in pain, I would have burst out laughing. No idea what he was dreaming about. He still got up on time and made it to school and I was left lying in bed in a daze. I was sooo looking forward to going back to sleep. Hubby's first meeting was actually in NJ less than an hour away so he was able to take the boys to school. But the teen couldn't get it together. Mom is on deck again.
My brain went into overdrive as I contemplated going back to sleep for just a little while before trying to get the teen moving again. Sleep? No chance. I started thinking about whether he will ever be able to function independently. Will he be able to live on his own? Get himself up for work? Learn to drive? I had my learner's permit at 15 and a half and was driving myself to the public transportation bus stop across town at 16. On my own. The teen will be 16 at the beginning of December and I'm having a hard time imagining him driving. His autism and ADHD are some serious hurdles.
I drifted through thoughts of my teen years. I went to a private Catholic high school several towns away from my home. They didn't provide busing, so I had to take public transportation. MBTA bus from the outskirts of Bedford to Arlington Heights, where I would change buses. A Harvard Square bus (yes, THAT Harvard) to the center of downtown Arlington where I would hop off, cross 4 lanes of heavy traffic (Rt. 2a/3) and down a side street to my school. All that starting at age 14. I still find it hard to fathom how my parents could stick me on a city bus and send me so far away at such a young age. Don't get me wrong, I LOVED it. It was a great school and I was thrilled to have passed the entrance exam. It's just...looking back as a mom, I would be terrified to let one of my kids travel so far, unsupervised.
I'm pretty proud of myself. It was a huge confidence boost. My friend Kathleen and I grew rather bold and adventurous. We had a bus pass. That bus we took every day did go all the way into Boston. Why not ride it to Harvard Square and have a look around? Such great adventures. My mother would have had a heart attack if she knew. Browsing around Newbury Comics. Walking the campus at Harvard. I wonder why I never applied there. Oh yes. My parents couldn't afford it and no one ever told me about scholarships. I may have been bold and somewhat adventurous, but I was still an ignorant teen and made a lot of mistakes. Ah, the good old days.
I kinda wish I could rewind time for a bit. We did choir. We did tennis. We filled our after school hours with just hanging around the school parking lot or the bus station. Why didn't we go into Boston more? Probably because we were perpetually broke and lacked imagination. I wish I'd taken advantage of my student status and gone to the museums. Walked the waterfront. Hung out at Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market. Oh man, I could really go for a slice of Pizzeria Regina pie right now.
We were so fit and full of energy. I really miss that. My teen has no idea how lucky he is to be coming into his own. What a great age to be. There is a bus stop right down the hill from us. I'm torn between encouraging him to explore and terrified he might hop on and head into NYC. New York of today is NOT Boston of early the 1980s. I never felt in danger on the bus or walking around the city. Just an occasional homeless guy at the bus station or trying to sit with the kids on the bus. The bus driver was actually right on top of things. He never let anyone bother us. There's another thing I haven't thought about since those days. The surly but kind bus drivers. There were a couple we got to know pretty well because they drove the same route at the same time each day.
And now it's almost 11:30 and the teen is still sleeping. I don't think he's making it to school today. We need to revisit sleep strategies with his therapist. His sleep disorder is getting out of control again. And back to reality.
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