Graduation Day

The tears flowed like rain and I cleaned up cat vomit.

That's what I do. That's what any special-needs mom does.
We'd gone to graduation #1 this morning at the special school my son actually attends and it was lovely.  Every graduation should be so thoughtful, personal and affectionate.  After the ceremony, the 18-year-old formerly known as Diver (honestly, I need a glyph like Prince) and his Dad went to Target and then to see Bubby.

I went to the gym and began to cry in the pool.  Because I had worked so hard for so many years for this day; and typical of any day during the last 18 years, I'd had to bend over backward to take care of things. And really nobody knew - nobody but another special-needs mom.  And on the spectrum of special needs parenting, I'm one of the lucky ones; still, today, after the last week of high-wire tension about the graduations and volunteer duties and work and preparations for glyph's leaving the country on Sunday and my back injury - and the broken phone and the cat vomit, I wept.

Then I came home and cleaned up the mess.  I had picked up and discarded the actual hair balls and left the spots covered with Borax for the last 48 hours but could leave it no longer. So carefully lowering myself to my knees (oh, that sore back!), I got down on the carpet and scrubbed.  And vacuumed.  And wept crocodile tears.