With every passing year, there is a brief time of reflection (about 3 days before NY and maybe 5 days after) on what transpired in those preceding months. Then, we prepare to dive, head first, into a fresh, new calendar. 365 unwritten pages. For me, this has been a pretty limit testing/rewarding year. I'm looking forward, gratefully, to the next 8,760 hours.
2013 opened my eyes in so many ways. There have been lots of superficial things that have made me think and made me smile or hurt my heart and made me cry (entirely more happiness over pain). And I take with me into 2014 and beyond, the wisdom from those grins and sobs. I'm also packing the enlightenment of anger. I'm pretty sure I can title 2013 as "The Year I Was Really Pissed Off". However, looking for the soft, gooey center of all that petulance was the clarity that followed. I generally go out of my way to avoid being mad. It took a long time to let go of the baggage of things that happened when I was little and I think I overcompensated. I undervalued the benefits of this less than pleasant emotion. It provides motivation to get a lot of things done. It got me through the hardest parts of the year. Thank you, Fury, I owe you one, but it's time to put you back into the holster. I promise I won't let you get dusty.
Milestones were bittersweet. The Oldest started driving lessons. Very little actually scares me. Except something happening to one of my children. It's a Craven/Shelley/King/Lovecraft/Poe/Manson/Bieber compilation of thought. My child operating a vehicle is terrifying. There was an intermission, though. For close to a month, he was unable to move much. Not sure which incites more trepidation - car accidents or surgical procedures. We spent about a week together in a small room in Cincinnati. Just staring at each other. His mole is gone. But scars now reside in it's place. And we learned so much about skin grafts. And the courage inside of my amazing son. He made the difficult choice to go through this painful surgery to avoid an uncertain future. (This is my side note vent at Melissa Etheridge, an avid reader of my blog: FUCK YOU LADY. It takes a lot of guts to take a preventative step to avoid cancer. Sure, you were talking to Angelina Jolie. But you were kicking dirt in the faces of those who make similar choices to control a potentially life threatening and volatile disease. You made a different choice and it worked out, because you're still here. Good for you, that doesn't make you Queen Shit of Cancer.) His determination paid off. "Benign" is my new favorite word. Then the little shit went and became a senior in high school. Not my little baby anymore. 2014 brings with it a graduation party and the big "18".
Soccer-mom-hood hit with a vengeance. The Youngest Boy discovered sports and loves it. I, of course, found a love for being a mom on the sideline. Cheering, quashing my internal loudmouthed Bitch, learning how to work a double elimination tournament bracket. Watching his fall team rock an undefeated season, bring home medals and trophies - made me really proud. His commitment to teamwork is pretty awesome. And, I didn't punch anyone! He is also reading well above his grade level. This pride comes with us. Soccer can stay too. (12 more days until indoor winter season starts) It's inspiring Miss Mini-Me. She packs a little backpack full of things to do during practices and games. She roots her brothers team on and plays with him at home too. There's a large net folded under my china closet, 2 small nets on the patio, a stockpile of cones in the living room, and this morning I tripped over his newest soccer ball. This is a result of their friendship (even though I am preeeeeeety sure she slapped him a few times).
I gained a new respect for the teaching profession. Teaching The Middle Son at home has been very taxing on the soul. Saluting all the teachers out there, high! I have to know my own limits, though. The silver lining of this experience is that had it not happened, it would've taken a lot longer to get a diagnosis. We needed this. Next week, he will rejoin society and public school. Fortunately, I'm only seconds away. It's going to be interesting and exciting. While I won't let him sink completely I'm also going to be letting him do a lot of his own swimming. I won't be around forever and Autism isn't the end of the world. He's high functioning and he's not going to adapt if I shield him. Advocate, not shelter. So I need to put the strength from the last year into my carry on luggage.
For me, the resolutions I've set for myself are cliche. Eat better, take better care of myself, workout more, increase my volunteer hours, and write. Usually, they are silly and easily attainable. Though, I blew the "I won't say 'farfegnugen'" resolution of 2011 within the first 2 weeks. I am going to throw in a "I won't operate a shopping cart faster than 2 mph" for 2014. And maybe a "I won't flip my neighbor off" (not the ones immediately on both sides, more like the ones across the street and 2 doors down on the left and 3 down on the right). I might do something reckless, too - trim my hair, wear pink (I hate pink), shoot a gun (I hate guns), beat ZombieU, and get arrested for Public Intox at a high school graduation.
I wish the best for everyone reading this. While my follower list is quite small and consists of a handful of friends, this blog did cross the 4000 hit mark a few weeks ago and I got my first writer's paycheck. The hit count means a lot to me. It means that you're here on purpose. So, thank you. Go do something fun tonight and try not to end up in jail.
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