I sat down to write. Like an hour ago. So far, I’ve written a jingle about a blinking cursor. That about sums up where we are.
Part of it is I haven’t been on this site for a bit and am legit lost. I feel like Rip Van Winkle except instead of sleeping through a war, I zoned out on some major technical updates. Apparently, I have no idea how to use WordPress anymore. I don’t know what “Divi Builder” is, the title keeps disappearing, and it took me 20 minutes to reset my password.
I’m having flashbacks to that time I taped very, very detailed index card instructions on my grandmother’s new VCR. “Pick up the black plastic rectangle (this is called the tape, Gramma) and push it into the slot until the little flap comes down.” It’s a little too close to home to be on the receiving end of the technological confusion, frankly.
Oh cool, the font just went down 100 sizes. I don’t know why and now I can’t see what I’m typing.
This is going well. Welcome back, me.
Moving on. The other reason I’ve been blogger MIA is I have so much to SAY… but I don’t know, guys. I just don’t know if it’s cool anymore. Jax is 16 tomorrow. Six-effing-teen. Are we still doing this when our kids are teens?
I feel like there is sort of a dearth of writers out there on this age group of teens with disabilities. (Dearth?? OMG I am Rip Van Winkle.) Lots of writing on the young ones – no judgment, I did that for quite a while – but a whole lot less on this teen into adulthood arena. The problems are different, my worries have shifted, the victories are life-changing. There is room for this. It feels important.
But the other hand is a child who isn’t a child anymore. Jax is taller than I am, his voice has lowered, and he has a sprinkling of his acne on his forehead. He’s a full stop teenager.
There’s so much to discuss. And I’d really like to chat it up. I just need to find the balance between mom-honesty and my teenage son’s boundaries. I think I can find it.
I hope so because I just figured out how to change the font size. WINNING.