Immersion
So we're at Suzuki camp. Q has had a hard time settling the last three nights and tonight, in addition to us singing him The Two Grenadiers, in parts, G brought his viola and quietly played Q out with Humoresque. I've frozen those moments in my head so I can have them always: Q draped across me atop his bed on the floor, drooling on my shirt, almost trying to still fight sleep, K in her bed, S snuggled with grandma in her bed, E in the shower, and the giant boy who is taller than everyone else much of the time these days sweetly playing his punkin brother to sleep.
There's plenty of irregular nonsense, as is the case with Life. There's a crazed seagull outside the window right now, for example. And G is probably not yet asleep, though his sisters are, and he will miss breakfast in the morning if he isn't out soon. There's the part where we're figuring out the new versions of the parent-child and child-parent relationships - no easy task even when everything else is smooth and lovely, much less with a few irregularities thrown in.
However. That young man who played for the littlest guy of the bunch also let me know that he's decided against looking for a job right now, though he'd need one to get a phone, which he badly wants. He's forgoing the job so he can focus on succeeding in school. He's making plans. And his sisters aren't far behind. This is so incredibly awesome. I know people often report the empty nest thing, and I'll probably have some of that too, later, but oh wow, is this exactly what all the hard work has been for! I just love that they're in the middle of the progressive circle that takes them ever nearer competent adulthood.
And this week has been great for us all, in different ways. The teacher who trained under Dr. Suzuki himself captured G's imagination, the one who dances with all thirty-five of her sweet younger kids while they play with violins atop their heads has S smiling like crazy (she loves all her teachers). E and K were given tiny things to work on that will improve their performance in gigantic ways - much of which carries over to Real Life, too. Q wants to go home with his Rhythm teacher so he can always have such fun.
So hurray for a week well spent. For kids who've taken great advantage of the opportunity (and are willing to work and save for the next go round). And hurray for the bazillion people who've helped with Q and all manner of support roles. We wouldn't be here without you. Thank you so very, very much.
In my running around campus and I've collected about three miles per day, huffing and puffing as we go. This campus is built on a hill, so it's either lots of stairs for me or hauling Q up and down hills to handicap accessible entrances. I forgot to mention when posting about the news of Friday (ortho appointment) that Q weighed a little more than 40 lbs. Hooray! And so does his chair. Not hooray! So when "sprinting" behind him up hills, I'd like a little fanfare. Or a sparkler. Or just a bottle of water might be nice.
Sleeping time now. Yikes, but we're tired.
There's plenty of irregular nonsense, as is the case with Life. There's a crazed seagull outside the window right now, for example. And G is probably not yet asleep, though his sisters are, and he will miss breakfast in the morning if he isn't out soon. There's the part where we're figuring out the new versions of the parent-child and child-parent relationships - no easy task even when everything else is smooth and lovely, much less with a few irregularities thrown in.
However. That young man who played for the littlest guy of the bunch also let me know that he's decided against looking for a job right now, though he'd need one to get a phone, which he badly wants. He's forgoing the job so he can focus on succeeding in school. He's making plans. And his sisters aren't far behind. This is so incredibly awesome. I know people often report the empty nest thing, and I'll probably have some of that too, later, but oh wow, is this exactly what all the hard work has been for! I just love that they're in the middle of the progressive circle that takes them ever nearer competent adulthood.
And this week has been great for us all, in different ways. The teacher who trained under Dr. Suzuki himself captured G's imagination, the one who dances with all thirty-five of her sweet younger kids while they play with violins atop their heads has S smiling like crazy (she loves all her teachers). E and K were given tiny things to work on that will improve their performance in gigantic ways - much of which carries over to Real Life, too. Q wants to go home with his Rhythm teacher so he can always have such fun.
So hurray for a week well spent. For kids who've taken great advantage of the opportunity (and are willing to work and save for the next go round). And hurray for the bazillion people who've helped with Q and all manner of support roles. We wouldn't be here without you. Thank you so very, very much.
In my running around campus and I've collected about three miles per day, huffing and puffing as we go. This campus is built on a hill, so it's either lots of stairs for me or hauling Q up and down hills to handicap accessible entrances. I forgot to mention when posting about the news of Friday (ortho appointment) that Q weighed a little more than 40 lbs. Hooray! And so does his chair. Not hooray! So when "sprinting" behind him up hills, I'd like a little fanfare. Or a sparkler. Or just a bottle of water might be nice.
Sleeping time now. Yikes, but we're tired.
1 comment:
Carrie, your intentional mothering shows in your kids. They don't make good decisions by chance. Humans are not made to be perfect - but I'm really impressed with your kids. As for the littlest one, he steals one's heart and breaks it simultaneously. I pray for your health care providers, therapists, and teachers that God will give them wisdom and love for the privilege of interacting with Quinn. And, Carrie, I'm praying for you for strength and whatever you need most.
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