If I had not already walked, stumbled, crawled and gotten through so many trials and tribulations with my children, adopted as older children, I would not have much of a story to tell. Who’d give a rip if I just wrote about my perfect children? I certainly feel all y’all’s pain as I’ve been through it as well.

I write a lot, an awful lot, but I do it fairly quickly. Writing is cathartic for me, it helps me to step back from the potentially explosive situations, regroup mentally, and rejoin the party at times.

I have an eighteen year old daughter that I’m trying to set free; to push out of the nest somewhat without making her feel rejected. She’ll graduate from high school in less than three weeks, something not all of my children have managed to do. I’ve had to find alternative high schools and programs for several of my children who just could not emotionally settle down, walk the line and produce the work necessary for earning a diploma. This is embarrassing for a former school teacher like me. Oh well.

I even have one son who may find detention in the adult penal system the only way to be forced to earn his GED, a condition of completing probation. I’ve found that the jagged teeth of the law sometimes provides the oomph that I need to jumpstart the kids into reality, into adulthood where every negative action has a negative consequence. Learning from these mistakes can be very beneficial if one so chooses to understand that concept.

Three sons are now finishing up fifth grade and will leave elementary school for middle school. One is in the gifted class, one is solidly average with no behavior problems, and the other is slightly challenged by academia.

Leaving elementary school is also perilous. They’ve been at that same small school for years, babied, protected, encouraged and very well taught by the best group of teachers on earth. We also have an excellent middle school but my kids don’t like change. On some level they will feel rejected now by the elementary school teachers. Summer will be emotionally hazardous for them as their insecurities and fears of the unknown will make tempers short and there’ll be group acting-out.

I’m not borrowing trouble; I’m describing what I’ve witnessed over the years. I’ll spend all my time reassuring them that they’ll love middle school. It’s the same school that I retired from so they know I know what I’m talking about. They’ll participate in our very active church middle school youth group and that’ll add another layer of security for them, but by early August there’ll be a good many pre-jitter meltdowns all over my house.

And my 18 year old daughter will learn that I won’t put her out after graduation. She’ll watch me do the paperwork, jump through the hoops, and start her in the Beautician’s program that she’s interested in joining. I’ll continue working with her on budgeting, tithing, planning, saving, and managing her life. My love for her won’t change, it’ll only continue to grow.

But I have to show her, not tell her. Words are empty to children who’ve been through the system. My commitment to her will eventually speak volumes although I’ve come to realize that it does take decades.