We're off! Here's what we did to get ready for residential treatment:
- Hit the Korean Spa for a massage. T says he "can't go to rehab with dry flaky skin."
- Hit the mall for Polo pajama pants "perfect for lounging in the tv room at the treatment house!"
- Bought an iPod and filled it with music (his last one was confiscated by the school during one of his bad behavior sprees). "I'm gonna be spending a lot of quiet thinking time and music will help me," he said quite convincingly.
- Had a little party with a few good supportive female friends who ordered pizza, straightened up his room for him, and wished him off.
- Swung by the barbershop for a quick lineup. (Hair-tending was an early and enduring bonding thing for us.)
This morning we're listening to the Temptations. He's packing. He made off with my grapefruit ginger body lotion. He left me with strict instructions to paint his room a tasteful shade of grey while he's gone.
I laughed at myself because I keep making lists "Take your meds! Don't forget to meet us at court on Tuesday at 8 am!" "Call me if you need a ride!" and sticking them to his luggage, like he's Paddington Bear. He's lived in 16 homes in 17 years, and got used to moving on short notice with nothing more than some Hefty bags to put his clothes in and a ride from a social worker. He told me to stop making such a fuss.
I figure it's early practice for when he grows up and gets his own place someday. I'm a precocious empty-nester.
Thanks, friends, for your comments this week - truly, it makes a difference.