Monday, August 11, 2008

Life at School/Life at Home

We all visited Meghan again (her grandma and grandpa came along too) and she seemed happy and looked good. But I’m still trying to get used to having a child out of the house—and at the tender age of 13. It all still seems surreal to me, especially when I visit her at her house and observe her in this new environment looking comfortable—like it’s home—home away from home, that is.

I pass her room at home, walking from my room and passing her dark, quiet room; quiet without her bouncing around, slamming doors, running down the hall and jumping on everyone’s bed—a presence, for sure—of extreme proportions. Now it is so quiet, Nick really isn’t that “wild-like” running through the house. I can actually read in my bed, watch television and know that I can actually sit through and finish a movie…but surely a lost presence and a dark, spiritless, yellow and pink bedroom is what remains—I pass through and try not to linger too long and "feel" too much.

Do I still think that residential school was the right decision for Meghan? Sure I do; she is on a stricter schedule and diet, she is getting proper exercise, she is doing well at school, and she is starting to socialize more and gain more independence--and with so many more teachers on-hand—she is far more cooperative and manageable. This is good for her, frankly! The teacher’s have always said that it’s a tougher transition for the parents than it is for the student (child)—I hope that’s really true and remains true (I think it is), because let’s face it, I’ve exhausted all other options: tried four different programs, had in-home care and help—but all have not worked. Residential school seems to be working and I’m crossing my fingers, everyday.

We are at peace because we know that we’ve selected the right school for her. If we had to have her go to residential school, then it was going to be the best school in the state—no exceptions—and we held out and waited until she got in—and in the nick of time too, because 14 is the cut off age!

And so the residential saga shall continue…. I think I’ll go eat a pint of Super Fudge Brownie Chunk and watch a movie—just because I can!

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