Boo received his first college acceptance in the mail yesterday. Exactly two weeks after we started the process of applying for admission to 15 higher education institutions, we have the first reply and it is positive! The tears appeared in my eyes the moment I reached into the mailbox and felt the packet – my hand knew what was happening before my eyes could confirm it – I knew exactly what it was. My knees grew weak and while I intended the words “Thank you, Jesus” to be a silent prayer, I am positive they were audible. I had to will myself back up the drive-way and into the house, then I had to compose myself so when I called Josh out of his room to tell him he had mail, he would see tears of joy and nothing else. We took a couple of pictures, we each posted something on social media and we shared in the moment. He immediately got congratulatory texts and positive responses on the social media posts. And then he went on about his evening – a perfectly normal response.
While the response from Boo was normal, the journey to this milestone has been anything but normal. College admission applications submitted on August 5 for the following academic year rarely receive an acknowledgement within two weeks, let alone an acceptance package. I don’t very often name people or places in my blog – but Marian University will have a special place in my heart (and now my blog) FOREVER. And just to be clear, MU is not the institution of higher education where I have worked for the last 31 years. But, I am getting a head of myself. I need to back up and start at the beginning of this journey…MY journey to Boo’s first college acceptance.
Boo’s father left me when I was 6 months pregnant. I was a 35 year old, single mom of an 8 year old daughter and a son on the way. I was scared, I was embarrassed, I was exhausted…and I didn’t have time for any of those emotions or physical conditions. I had to move on. I gave birth to a healthy baby boy via a planned C-section, with a sister-in-law by my side. I was so sick from the anesthesia, it was hours before I could even sit-up in bed and hold my baby. When Re came to meet her little brother about 8 hours after he was born, the sight of me scared her. Thankfully, another sister-in-law and two brothers were available to help and ease the fears of a worried child. Four days later we were all home and feeling much better. My parents each took a week off work, so I had in-home help for the first two weeks we were a family of three. Then we were alone. I was scared, I was embarrassed, I was exhausted…I didn’t have time for any of those emotions or physical conditions.
Shortly before Thanksgiving, my boss at the time delivered a huge planter to the house, in a white wicker basket with baby blue and white gingham bows. She stayed and visited for awhile, it was nice to have adult conversation and while she paid attention to the new baby, her primary interest in the visit seemed to be me. On her way out, she told me there was a card in the basket. A couple hours later, I opened the card. It contained a hand-written note about how strong I would need to be and how I shouldn’t be afraid to call on friends, co-workers and God when I couldn’t find the strength alone. The card also contained $400 worth of gift certificates. I can’t remember what I had for dinner last night, but I remember that planter and that note like it was yesterday. I was scared, I was embarrassed, I was beyond exhausted. But, for the first time in over 3 months, I took the time to acknowledge those emotions and physical conditions and I let myself cry.
Fast forward to Boo’s first year in kindergarten. It was obvious to his teacher by Thanksgiving, that it would not be in Boo’s best interest to move on to first grade the next year. It took me a couple more months and research on the IHSAA’s website to determine that 19 year old high school seniors were still eligible to compete in high school sports, before I finally agreed to that plan. It was the 2nd trip through kindergarten when teachers started to talk to me about ADHD and the possibility of putting Boo on medication. I was so resistant to medication. Instead, I read everything I could find on other ways to deal with ADHD. I changed his diet, I read food labels like it was my only job, I started behavior modification programs with him. I was scared, I was embarrassed, I was sad, I was exhausted – so I took a little time to cry. And then I was back at it.
It was in the Spring of first grade that I started discussing ADHD with Boo’s pediatrician and the summer between 1st and 2nd grade when Boo started on medication. Several weeks into 2nd grade, when the medicated Boo was continuing to experience even more frustration at school that I awoke – like a Momma Bear coming out of years of hibernation! I was scared, I was a little embarrassed, I was sad, I was angry, I was exhausted. I yelled – at no one, and then I cried. And then I asked for a conference with several people from Boo’s elementary school and I asked for a special needs representative. And it was granted. And then came the weeks, which turned to months as we went through various types of testing and evaluations with me, with his teachers, with his pediatrician. There was lost paperwork and what seemed like endless delays. I was scared, I was sad, I was angry, I was frustrated, I was embarrassed by some of my behavior – but no longer by my situation, I was exhausted. I yelled – mostly to no one, sometimes to wonderfully forgiving people, I cried. It was during these crying periods, that I determined that the energy I was expending on feeling anger needed to be channeled to serve a better purpose.
Finally armed with an official, albeit ambiguous, diagnosis and a long list of accommodations, I went back to my roots and started teaching. From 3rd grade – 6th grade, I picked up Boo from school at 3:45 everyday and would spend 2-3 hours re-teaching whatever that day’s lessons were. This was in addition to his tutor working through lunch one day a week with him and one afternoon a week with him. Boo was allowed 1 extra-curricular activity at a time, which typically meant 2 week night activities and 1 weekend activity. We also spent at least 4 hours each weekend working on school work. At a minimum, Boo was spending 16 hours a week on school work outside of the standard 35-hour school week. He would often say that he was the only kid in the state of Indiana who was both home-schooled and went to school. These four years, happen to coincide with the four years that Re was away at college. I honestly don’t know how I could have devoted so much time to one child, if I had had another child at home at the same time. And after Boo went to bed each evening, I would “work from home” for two hours to make up for leaving early every day. I was scared, I tried very hard not to be angry anymore, I was sad, I was still frustrated, I no longer felt embarrassed, some days I would feel a flicker of HOPE and I had grown numb to the exhaustion. But not all days were bad days, some days were good. I was crying ALL THE TIME, but some of the tears were happy tears!
Welcome to Junior High! I so appreciated Re being back home and going to work at her alma mater which was also Boo’s new school, and my opportunity to return to somewhat normal work hours at least a few days a week. Thank you for block scheduling – this Learning Disabled student’s best scheduling option – and Basic Skills teachers – someone besides mom talking about good study habits and tips/tricks. And finally, the ability of the 8th grade student to take some high school classes with the anonymity afforded a “junior high student” – meaning unsuccessful attempts didn’t appear on the official high school transcript. Junior High had challenges – there were now several teachers with whom I needed to communicate and Boo needed to get to know and get used to their teaching styles. There was also a resignation, that in at least one area of education, we had identified a limitation due to the Learning Disability. Hard work, determination and unwavering perseverance was not going to be enough to get him though a foreign language – at least not when it is taught based on the assumption of a traditional understanding of the English language. I was scared, I was frustrated, I was sad, I was hopeful, I was exhausted – but at least I felt it. Some days I cried happy tears, some days I cried sad tears and some days I cried frustrated tears.
And then there was high school. From spring of 9th grade through spring of 11th grade, my incredibly curious, always happy, unbelievably hard-working little boy hit some really, really rough times. A child can’t have the type of Learning Disability that Boo has without also having some social issues. The inability to process things sequentially, the inability to recognize patterns, and years of being surrounded by people who only wanted to support Boo and do what was best for him, left him completely unprepared and unequipped for bullies. Yep, I said it – bullies. And these bullies came in the form of adults as well as children. And while all interactions would not have held up to the criminal definition of bully, I believe that some would have. It didn’t help that during this same time, Boo was dealing with a serious shoulder injury, so there was physical pain involved as well. Once again, he needed extra help – but this time I was not equipped to provide it to him. I was scared, unbelievably frustrated and very angry. I should have also been sad, disappointed and exhausted – but was too numb to feel any of that. I cried a lot of angry and frustrated tears.
But, my son needed help, so I found some for him – for both of us. I got him help from a psychologist, a surgeon, a physical therapist, a learning support teacher, a guidance counselor and a couple of special volleyball coaches. It took many months to heal some injuries, fewer to heal others. I watched as in his usual fashion, Boo applied hard work, a positive attitude and curiosity to get through it all. I have had a good summer, it didn’t go exactly as planned and there was some disappointment – but I saw Boo take those lemons and make lemonade. There has been great growth – especially from a social perspective. I know he is looking forward to the completion of his senior year and the adventures that lay ahead. By contrast, I am planning to soak up very minute of the next nine months. But when the time comes, I will do as I have always done and provide him with what he needs to be successful – including taking a few steps back.
I am no longer angry, I am frustrated occasionally, I am disappointed by a few situations, I think I will always be scared, I am excited for his new opportunities, I am hopeful – because he has proven to be resilient. I am confident that he will not be admitted to all 15 schools to which he has applied and equally confident that he will be okay when he gets the occasional rejection letter. I am back to being tired, but no longer exhausted. I am thankful that I am feeling all of these things. And with the ability to feel so many different emotions come tears, lots and lots of tears…and I am grateful for those tears.
As I look back on my journey to Boo’s first college acceptance, I am able to see exactly where we have been and how far I have come by following that path of tears. To those who opted out of this journey with me and to those who put up obstacles in front of me, I forgive you. To those who have helped me on this journey, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you. My tears have made me a stronger, wiser and kinder mother, daughter, sister, friend and child of God. May you all find the kind of peace that I now feel after a good cry.
With hugs and love!
