Mikey and his friend have invented a new unit of measure: air cloud. Air cloud is more than infinity, you see. Because infinity can’t just be infinite–there MUST be something more. Thus, air cloud.
A grownup friend was at our house the other day discussing how her son has a gazillion Legos. Mikey said, “Oh yeah? Well I have air cloud Legos.”
For homework today, Mikey had to write a number sentence (whatever the hell that means). His was, “Mikey had air cloud Legos and someone gave him 7,000 more. How many Legos did Mikey have altogether?”
In sort of related news, Alex calls the plows “snow clouds,” so when one rumbles past, Alex yells, “there’s the snow cloud.”
And Mikey counters, “No. Air cloud. Air cloud is more than infinity.”
“No! It’s a snow cloud, MIKEY!” And then they hit each other while I hide in the kitchen eating chocolate chips.
Mikey has graduated from wrap-around services. Officially, they use the term “discharge.” It didn’t feel like a discharge, though. We had a party! His last home visit with our BSC, Mikey was in charge of the whole plan. His ideas ranged from a trip to the bowling alley to “let’s sit on the couch and watch Lego movie.” Ultimately, we went to the grocery store and bought some fancy cookies and then played Guess Who.
Oh, and then we went out for hibachi.
At school, he barely noticed that S was gone, although he had started talking to her when she was there and deigning to suggest he was happy to see her. In front of other people, even!
Part of me was terrified of this day, that as soon as it happened we’d experience a dramatic setback and I’d be on my own. But now I know that even if something happens, I have a wonderful support system I can rely on.
Plus, any time in the next year, I can call up our agency for booster sessions with our BSC if necessary.
Truthfully, things have just been fine. Meeting with our wrap-around team is now one less thing we have to do each week. The void has been filled by Mikey having to read out loud for 15 minutes each day. And that? Well, the other day he said, “Did you know I can read inside my head? I just look at the words with my eyes.”
Next chapter, indeed.
I’m often struck by how very alike Mikey and I are. Today, I was agonizing over a noise I heard in the house, but couldn’t locate. “Do you hear it??” I kept pleading to Cody. He heard nothing, kept suggesting it was the fridge. As if I didn’t know what sound the ice maker makes!
I should have asked Mikey much sooner. He noticed me searching for the source of the sound and said, “Mom, that’s just the woo-ey light by the basement potty.” He ran down, turned off the fluorescent light above our toilet, and ah! Such silence and relief.
He can hear these things with his bat ears just like me.
Today while we were watching Thomas, he sneaked up behind me on the couch and kissed the back of my neck and then ran away to terrorize his brother.
Those are the things I want to remember in 85 years–bonding over woo-ey lights and surprise kisses. Excuse me while I go stare at him in his sleep.