Letting Go

When I was 15 my family lived in down-town Vienna, Austria for a year.  The freedom I had because of the amazing public transportation was... remarkable.  Coming back to the States was... hard.  I'm thinking a lot about my son's last week on his adventure in Guatemala.  I'm thinking about how weird it is going to be for him to adjust to being back home and sharing a room with siblings.  He loves us and will be happy to be home, but we will be something of a let down.  In 17 1/2 years of mothering I've moved from being the center of the universe to being a let down, though to be honest, I'm glad.  For one, I don't have a basement he can move into.

I'm also thinking about the other end of my parenting spectrum.  Jack has been wanting to hold the glucometer himself.  I've not been encouraging it until today.  I realized he's going to have to eventually take care of himself.  He might outgrow the hypoglycemia but he might not, so I need to let him hold the silly glucometer.  I also need to teach him the names of his medications and how much he needs of each.  It's not rocket science.

With kids ranging from 17 to 1 1/2 it's hard to keep a handle on slowly letting go of everyone at all their different levels.   However, Samuel's bid for independence will be nipped in the bud.   He's figured how to get the child safety door knob off the front door and let himself out of the house.  I'm pretty sure that's a bad thing.  At least he can't (yet) get the car key in the car door.