Something else I worry over...

You know we all worry about how messed up our kids are going to be, but I think it begins to take on an entirely different meaning when you have a child with special needs. Though I'm not sure that K's needs are all that special in the grand scheme of things. Especially when I see other children who are not as high functioning as she is, and have the same troubles.

Anyway, my point here is I wondered again today how messed up I've already made my kids. I mean I know the goal is to raise them, so that they are independent and -want- to leave, but do I do that to the detriment of their mental health and further more, what is healthy? I know each person has their own definition of healthy, and happy, and normal, but do or rather will my kids fit with in the acceptable parameters of normal?

I don't worry so much about B, though I have realized in the last week that I cling a little too tightly and she really really needs me to let go. I mean really let go, not pretend to let go and then follow along behind her hiding in the bushes. She's already figured out who she is, well in so much as an 11 year old can figure that out. She smart, funny, has a knack for finding the engaging in any situation, loves fully, expresses emotion with passion, and knows what she wants to be when she grows up. I've been informed, by the way, that she wants to go to NYU. Good luck, baby, that's all I have to say about that.

Then, we turn our heads and look down K's road, and that is when I really start to worry. Will she ever be able to live on her own? Will I be her guardian until I no longer have my own faculties? Do I have what it takes to see her through until she can take care of herself? And damn it, will she ever learn to put her dishes in the sink?

I don't know, and that scares the bejeezus out of me. I know, I've got a full ten years left before she's even old enough to go off to college, that should be plenty of time, right? I like to tell myself that she'll be so used to medications and such, that she'll stay on her meds, but that doesn't mean that she will. I like to tell myself that she will have caught up to herself and be developmentally 18, when she's chronologically 18, but that doesn't mean that she will. But to be frank, one of us on this team has to remain optimistic, or that kid simply doesn't have a chance.

Bet that as it may, I am determined that by the end of this week she will be putting her dishes in the sink after each meal, with out being told to do so. And my insistance on such a thing, is going to make it so that when she is on her own, her dishes will never make it to the sink again...