Yesterday, James asked me where he would move to and what he would be doing when he grew up. This is the first time I have heard him talk like this and instigate a conversation like this. It is rather exciting for us both to start talking about it. I said he had time to think about it and come up with some plans. I also said he would have a home with me until he is ready.
Because we are looking again at moving. Costs of living are so out of alignment with what salaries are that even renting it too expensive. I'd rather take what money I'd funnel into covering my rent gap into a sustainable living situation. For a while I didn't see how it could happen.
Yesterday I got some good news that I am getting closer to making it happen. For a rare few hours, James and I were both blissfully and completely happy.
And that's okay.
James has been testing the hell out of the new school. I am so happy he is there because not once have they called to have me pick him up. They deal with the situation and are working on gaining James' trust. The messages I get back all consistently state that James is in the right place, they think he's a great kid, and they look forward to having him at their school. Some days it just makes me cry happy tears.
Meanwhile, we've paused ABA because, after a while of it helping, things got stuck in a rut and James started rebelling. He still refuses to bathe and has taken to trying to communicate via humming, because he's afraid if he opens his mouth, hair, or ash, or a bug will get inside. For those same reasons, he resists eating. He is almost 5' 11", so this is not great. A more stable home could help with those anxieties.
Moving is also a goal because the apartments are rough on James. He hates the noise and cursing that comes from the complex's swimming pool outside. And since he got caught in a rock fight some kids were having at the complex a while back, he no longer wants to go outside and walk around.
More as these stories develop ...
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