So I'm talking to Kari, my resident FASD expert, about my last post asking her if I should publish it. She says "yes, and if you need statistics I have them, publish it" so I hit publish.
And while we're talking, Rand calls. I take the call and hang up on Kari.
I had sent Rand, age 20, to get a haircut. Here's our conversation.
"Mom. I just went to every haircut place in town and everyone is booked until three o'clock."
"And you have to be at work by 2?"
"So, Rand, I guess you're not getting a haircut today then, huh?"
"OK, Bye Mom"
Rand was not diagnosed. Looking back at his baby pictures, he even had all the facial features, but they are hard to distinguish by now. But he had them all. But when he came to us at 11, having been in the system for 7 years, he had never been diagnosed with anything on the Fetal Alcohol Spectrum.
But at age 20 I had to help him conclude that if you go to work at 2 and nobody can cut your hair before then, then you can't get it done today.
Gotta love him though -- because he calls and asks for help. He's attached to us. And that makes all the difference in the world - he trusts me to tell him what to do and he follows my advice. Unlike his brother, the same age, who is currently in solitary confinement in jail because "the guards here are so prejudice." He never learned to trust us.
Aren't I just full of encouraging news today?