In just over a year, Big Man will be eighteen. That’s right – he will be an adult. Holy wow – how did that happen? He just keeps growing up. I knew this in the back of my mind, but then I really started thinking of what it will mean for him to be an adult.
First, he will still be in high school. Dang it – he’ll be able to sign himself out if he wants. He’s a good kid, so I’m not super worried about this being available, but it’s there. It’s reality. He can sign himself off campus. He will be eighteen most of his senior year. I’m glad about that, and also terrified about that.
He won’t be able to go to his pediatrician anymore. She’s been his provider since he was just under two years old. She knows him. She knows his history. She knows his growth curve, his quirks, his diagnosis. I simply can’t fathom her not being his doctor. I can’t imagine having to explain his entire history to a new doctor. More than that, he will be able to go to the doctor on his own. The control freak in me is completely freaking out that. He won’t have to tell me ANYTHING about what the doctor says. I’ve played the primary role in all his medical stuff since day one. That will be near impossible to let go.
He will have to order and pick up his own medications. As an adult, he can refuse to refill them much less take them.
He will be able to enlist in the military. Yeah, that one I can’t even process.
He will have to fill out all his own paperwork. Hah! Good luck, son.
There are so many things he will have to do, be able to do as an adult that I haven’t even thought about. I’m beyond grateful he will still be at home his first year of adulthood. I feel I’ll have an opportunity to train him up before I send him out into the world. But it still freaks me out. In just over a year, my teeny, tiny, too-soon baby boy will be an adult.