Dear readers,
We are five posts in! This is the sixth. So far, the story has included introductory stuff and scenes from the earliest days of Theo's life.
Since Theo is a work in progress, the story will continue in a nonlinear way, criss-crossing back and forth in time as themes present themselves. We will be courageous time-travelers!
Today we jump much nearer the present time. Then back to the days of infancy. Please let me know what you think of this approach as the story unfolds!
Peace, Annette
Theo doesn’t want to go to school much these days.1 He stays home, playing games on his computer during the day and watching TV with me in the evenings. The concept of daily chores seems to have slipped away; he may take out or bring back the trash and recycling bins after strenuous argument, or he may say “No” and stay where he is.
Some days, he doesn’t go outside at all. Hygiene happens when he feels like it. He may wear the same clothes all day and go to bed in them and go on like that for days—though the sound of his dresser drawers opening leads me to hope that he’s occasionally changing his underwear and socks.
When we were in lockdown during March and April 2020, Theo seemed delighted to be at home all the time. After distance learning began in June, Theo had some trouble adapting to it but worked up to fairly good attendance and participation. But when his school reopened late in September, Theo didn’t feel obliged to go, and no amount of hearing “My job is earning a living, your job is going to school” seemed to make an impression. What was even more maddening, when he did go to school everyone raved about what a great day he had, from the teachers and therapists to the bus driver and bus monitors.
Theo will soon be 20 years old. His school is well suited to his needs, the best one he’s attended since preschool after years of struggling with the public school system. Now in the transition unit, Theo is supposed to be exploring different kinds of work he might be interested in and trying them out in community settings. The pandemic has limited what can be done in that area, and I’m concerned about whether Theo will have enough time back at school (when he consents to going regularly) to benefit from participating. When I think of trying to find work for him myself, even with the help of state agency people, my heart sinks.
Impasse
“I think we need to give them a pandemic pass,” my friend Lisa said, as we spoke about the problems our children are having during this time. She didn’t mean giving up on trying to work on things but accepting that it is a hard time for all of us.
It feels like an impasse, that we’re kind of stuck, unable to do certain things that would help or that I think would help. I can’t force Theo to go to school or go for a walk or help me in the yard, and I don’t want to force him to do anything. “It’s my life, my decision,” Theo says. I say, “And it’s your responsibility.”
I would appreciate help in the house, which should be a given. It’s irritating to find the pitcher of filtered water left empty for me to refill. This is the sort of thing kids and teenagers have to be bugged about to get into the habit of doing—I remember my youngest sister, Monica, for example, laughing off my irritated comments about how she should hang up her bath towel. Come to think of it, some people grow up to be the sort of office coworker who leaves the copy machine without paper for the next person—as if their time were more valuable than the next person’s. (I’m happy to say my sister’s picking-up skills improved with time.)
Small Positive Signs
For now, I’m happy with small positive signs. One chore Theo almost always does without reminders is clearing his own dishes. Theo won’t rinse used plates and won’t throw out the empty capsules from his antiseizure medicine, for some reason, but he clears the dishes! Maybe hearing “I’m not your maid” has at least partially sunk in.
A new skill is covering a pan or dish of leftovers with aluminum foil. He claimed he couldn’t do it; I said he absolutely could do it with practice. And lo, it came to pass.2
An even more promising sign: There’s been recent thrilling evidence of internalized motherly teaching. He’s asked me, for instance: Why did you leave a light on in the other room? Why did you leave food out on the table? Moreover, he spoke in a normal tone of voice, as one reasonable person to another.
Theo’s gradually been getting more sociable, calling up people from his own cell phone. Theo arranged to play Minecraft online with his cousin. He went to his dad’s for the weekend, and they had a back yard barbecue and pétanque game with friends (of his dad’s generation). This week Theo went to school for two-and-a-half days! No matter that one day was early release at 11:00 and that next week is spring vacation. It’s good!
Theo’s great-aunt once told me that when things aren’t going so well, we need to look beyond whatever disappointing behavior is happening to remember the whole picture and the progress that has been made. I’ve always found that perspective-taking important and reassuring.
Next: “Just Like Any Other Baby”
Written in spring 2021 but much of this is still applicable
Clearing dishes and putting away leftovers are examples of ADLs, activities of daily living. This term comes up a lot in these days of transition to adult life.
Hi, AJ: I'm enjoying reading about your experiences and Theo's personality. Your chapters are well written -- so well written that I can actually visualize the interactions between you two. God gave you the patience of a saint. Keep up the great work! ~ Lynda