Where Does The Time Go?

It's high school graduation season around here and for the first time since I walked across the stage many, many moons ago I've got a stake in this.

Until the last few weeks, I'd been so consumed with making sure this kid, one of my niblings, would graduate that the dizzy brain waves of oh-dear-God-we're-all-HOW-old didn't kick in until now. I tutored. I reminded about homework, make up work, turning in anything and everything. I begged, literally begged this child to grab every chance of extra credit just in case.

This kid did not have my school career. I treated school as seriously as administrators threaten students that they should.*cough* nerd *cough* Permanent record! You'll use all of this! *cough* I aimed to be most likely to succeed until I aimed to just get the hell on with life. This kiddo, not so much. Brains, check. Ability, check. Desire - we've got a runner.

So, to see them stride across the stage and have their name on their diploma is like a partial weight lifting from my shoulders. I'm not tackling the angst of what comes next for a few months, so I'm just going to bask in the relief. And let my brain turn over and over how weird it is that this kid is a high school graduate.

I waited for this kid to be born. I was a nervous wreck driving to the hospital when they arrived. I changed their diaper, held them when they were sick. I watched them grow with a mixture of awe and a deep hope that their life would be so much better than they could imagine. I was there for lows and highs. I hoped that I set some kind of decent example  (something sorely lacking in this kid's life) and taught something, anything positive that would stick with them as they grow.

I know where the time has gone. Every climb up difficult moments. Every tear shed. Every fear of what comes next. Every movie seen together. Every meal cooked together. Every moment of regular life that fills in the space between special moments. I just can't get over that the little chubby cheeked toddler drives, is in a relationship, has been accepted to college and all the rest of it. And I can't believe that I've somehow managed to survive this long after my own high school graduation, navigating the unknown.

And this

Just like everyone else & a little clarification

A 'quick' note about posts: Despite finding inspiration in conversations and interactions with friends and family, I'm not trying to call anyone out. At least not anyone who is reading this. It's not my intent to suggest that when I reveal some quirk of mine that I am subtly/passive aggressively trying to clue you in that I think you're being rude or hurting my feelings or I'm comparing you to difficult friendships or situations in my past. So far, this blog has been very stream of conscious without my putting extra meaning behind it. I repeat myself (a lot) but I also ruminate and over analyze and connect mental dots from previous situations without meaning to cause unease for newer friends. My complaining about being used (aside from being partly my own damn fault) is not code for I think you're doing it too. My conversational issues with feeling ignored? Those came straight from endless one-on-one dinners with a friend who stares at her phone, takes calls and shows me messages she's answering while I'm trying to talk. Or driving a relative somewhere who interrupts a serious conversation I'm trying to have with them to discuss whether or not a check engine light is on and then anything else they can possibly think of when it isn't.

So, while I deeply appreciate those of you who read this blog and worry about being compared or judged or how I perceive you, you can relax. If I thought you were a jerk or ignoring me or were trying to use me, I wouldn't be around you. Everyone has their own personal baggage and I'm not trying to add to yours. Thanks though, for being decent human beings and caring. Now, as you were.

Or maybe not

And now, another topical incident:

I have been on the educator side of things. Teaching skills, appropriate behaviors, etc. So I have been on the side of prompting a child for an answer to test their knowledge only to have a well meaning parent jump in and answer.

Did you not see that I was setting the kid up to feel proud by answering something you didn't know they could?  Did you not realize you interrupted prime social interaction and reinforce the child to depend on you to answer a situation they can learn to handle? Ugh! I was never a jerk about it, politely telling the adult to give the kid a chance to show them what they'd learned.

And then today, I was that parent/guardian/responsible adult in charge/family member/general hbic.

OMG! The horror. No seriously, I caught the words coming out of my mouth in cinematic slow motion.

What the hell, woman?

Here's the best I've got, as I try to soothe the itch to face palm for days that invaded my brain as soon as the words were spoken. I spend so much time interpreting for my older folks who seem to only be able to hear me and no one else, and interpret the variable speed talking of my niblings to their grandparents, that my brain defaulted to intervene mode. Also? Brown-nosing-front-of-the-class-know-it-all reared her head. Oh oh, me, I know it, oh oh, my hand's raised, me me. Ugh. I am also reminded of being the family/caregiver to a patient receiving respiratory therapy. The tech laughed as I noticed myself breathing in, holding my breath and exhaling along with my loved one. "Everybody does," he chuckled, "even me after all these years. You just can't help it." And it's true. Ever held your breath with a character in a movie or a book? Years later I noticed other people breathing in time during doctor appointments, ER visits and respiratory assessments.

It doesn't matter that it isn't about you. And it doesn't matter if you're completely aware of your position as a spectator and not the participant. Sometimes you just can't help yourself. And sometimes you write about silly things to keep yourself sane while watching one of your least favorite kids' movies for the 700th time.