I posted an update about Ryan’s first day to Facebook and Instagram, but wanted to just update here quickly also. Thank you (so much) for all of the support and encouragement as our family goes through this transitional time.
Yesterday, Ryan and I waited for the bus in my Vanborghini and he
totally rocked the bus ride to school. I buckled him into his carseat and he started to fuss, but that quickly subsided when I handed him a special bin of new cars and planes that are for the bus only. The aide said he played with his cars and counted and talked
about airplanes.
When the transportation company arrived at his school I was waiting there to meet him. I carried him into his school and he took his coat off and
walked away from me to go play. And he never looked back.
I took him to his new
school once in December to play in his classroom and attend PE with his
classmates and he remembered everything — he walked down the hallway right to his classroom like that was no big deal. You have to love a photographic memory.
His first day report seemed to indicate that he did well. It was underwhelming and unremarkable, which is, I suppose, better than a note full of bad news. He ate his all of his lunch (this is huge) and was willing to participate in his individual therapy sessions. I wish the school had gone into more detail about how everything went, but I don’t know if any report will ever be able to replace me experiencing his day alongside of him.
The transition has been hard on me. I miss him every second of the day. Our normal toddler activities are still happening, only it’s just me and the girls and that feels alien. I’ve realized I don’t know my daughter as well as I thought I did outside of the context of her twinship. A realization that is heartbreaking. We played Barbie’s yesterday for the first time and it felt as cool as it did uncomfortable.
Reese is struggling too. She is needing lots of hugs and lots of attention. Her antics warrant patience, and I am trying so hard to give her the room that she needs right now to adjust. I am not sure either one of us knows how to live in a world where Ryan isn’t a constant part of our days.
I am sure, with time, this will get easier. Hell, we all got used to having 5 therapists in our home 20 hours per week for the last six months and, let’s be honest, that’s not normal at all. But on Monday when no revolving door of therapists came, it was off-putting. It’s funny the things you can get used to. So while this situation is unconventional and, frankly, undesirable, this too will become our version of normal.
Hopefully one day I won’t feel compelled to tell everyone that Reese is a twin, that I have three kids, not two, when we’re out and about. But right now I feel like I need to remind everyone that one of us is missing.
