Lots of people are asking, "So...how did Sissy do with transition?"
The answer is: textbook RAD
Which is actually funny. I thought it would make me irritated and then regretful for the break. Nah, it's just making me giggle and snicker. Such a RAD! Really, they could use her as the model.
She's suddenly extremely hard of hearing.
She's also developed a severe case of the whines and the grumps.
She's exhausted (it's hard work being good for strangers and maintaining the lie that she's perfect).
She has to eat and eat and eat and then get angry when I say the kitchen is closed.
She is bored out of her mind and trying to make me get involved in her need for activity and stimulation.
She is insanely intolerant of AB and WG.
She is very weepy and simultaneously superficially giddy.
But I was smart. I kept the day stacked up with activities ON PURPOSE. One of those activities was a trip to MY therapist so she could do a session with just the kids. What a riot. She was RADsing hard.
We arrive in the waiting room and as soon as the therapist opened the door, Sissy decided I needed a tight squeeze around my middle complete with overly excited exclamations of "I love you mom!"
Then, ten minutes into the session, my therapist and Sissy emerge into the waiting room, Sissy is bleeding profusely. I rolled my eyes again. She yanked off her bandaid from last night's wound ON PURPOSE and proceeded to pick at her cut until it bled. AND, the icing on the cake, returned newly bandaged with an extra that she made a big show of in front of the therapist, "Mom, this one is for later. At HOME." like as if we don't have a million bandaids at home.
She's been irritating, stupid, annoying and I haven't cared one bit. In fact, I've laughed a lot. And thankfully, my therapist agreed about her shenanigans at our appointment, "textbook RAD moves." She chuckled a little too.
Yes, I'd do respite again if for no other reason than the laugh factor. Still, it makes me sorrowful that Sissy is STILL so RAD, after all of these years, that as time progresses, the rest of us move forward ... without her.