Our son’s move to a group home is becoming like a wedding, with the exception that our family has someone moving out instead of in.
Like a wedding, the big plans all looked great on paper, but as the day draws near the details multiply like pick-your-favorite-thing-that-overpopulates.
Today was shopping for toiletries and some extra clothes for him to have at the new place.
Here’s the pile at midday. I was proud of finding some sales and bargains. I also rented a truck (no, it’s not in the laundry basket) to move furniture next week.
This morning was sweet. His older brother and his wife were in town en route to a real wedding, and we all went out to breakfast. Joey sat between them and smiled a lot. Melissa remarked on how adult he’s become about social settings. He doesn’t have to sit bookended by mom and dad. He uses his fork and spoon like a pro (still don’t trust him with knives). He interacts, in his own way, with those around him – when his orange juice arrived he wanted to use a straw, so he handed one to his sister in law to unwrap for him. Yeah, he’s never gonna be cool with fine motor skills.
The weird thing is that as his moving day approaches, he’s increasingly fun to be with. Is that just because we know the day is at hand and we’re relaxing? Or, does HE know and is he angling for a sympathy extension at our place?