>I am going to a bonfire tonight. Or, more correctly, I am taking Amigo to a bonfire in the parking lot of his high school to kick off homecoming week. I asked him if grown-ups were allowed, and he said they must be allowed because teachers would be there. But, he added, he would only let me come if he didn’t have to sit by me.
I know what you’re thinking: he’s a typical teen who doesn’t want to sit with his mom. Well, I’m thrilled. He’ll have so much more fun hanging out with his friends than he would sitting with his mother. Socially, hanging with mom would be a real downer. For my disabled child, it’s a great thing to go somewhere without parents. For me, the mom of a special kid, it’s great to know that he will enjoy himself and there will adults (teachers) nearby to supervise. I will be there, but I’ll take a seat in the far back.
When Amigo was in seventh grade and I dropped him off at his first school dance, he told me, “Mom, you worry too much!” He’s right. I’m finally learning to let go and let him soar. But just because I’m mom…I’ll keep my cell phone on and in my pocket.
Post Bonfire Update: This was a perfect evening for me. Amigo. Us. I parked the car, arrnaged a meeting place (the light pole near the fire marshall’s truck), and walked with him over to the fire area. He hung out there with me until a few friends spotted him. He joined them, and then I left. I hung out in the van, made a few phone calls, and generally relaxed, as the enthusiastic high school kids burned a huge stack of wooden pallets with an effigy of their opponent’s mascot at the top. Afterwards, the kids just hung around and talked and laughed and cheered for about an hour. Amigo borrowed a cell phone to call me, I located him and his friends, and then we were off.
Next time I’ll bring a book to read. He really didn’t need me, except for the ride. And when you think about it, isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be?