Our son just accomplished his first week in a staffed group home.
He’s here at
home our place (yes, we’re trying to call the new house HIS home) to spend the night. This afternoon and evening will include a haircut by his fave stylist and a pizza party with her family.
The week was a case of “no news is good news” since not hearing from the staff meant no problems.
When I went to pick him up at HIS HOUSE (I must keep practicing this) he was comfortable in HIS greenish recliner ($50 at a used hotel furniture place). I simply told him that we were going to mom-and-dad’s house for a haircut and pizza with his stylist and her kids.
He came along just fine – although he was a bit confused by my car sitting in HIS driveway. He turned toward the garage to look for the house van. He’s already into all of the routines of HIS NEW HOUSE.
Once at our place, he got in a hug from mom. He was a bit miffed that the Christmas tree is down, but that didn’t last long.
Now he’s taking a short nap in his old bed (with a cushy new blanket he got for Christmas. Friends provided a second cushy new blanket for HIS house and it even goes with HIS drapes.
This is going well.
Of course there’s the trite line from the old Westerns, It’s quiet. TOO quiet.