It’s a satisfying number, 14.
It’s an even number but is the sum of two uneven numbers (7 being the best number ever IMHO)
14 is the number of lines in a sonnet and is the number of Beethoven’s beloved “Moonlight” piano sonata.
In days it’s a fortnight which is the perfect length for a holiday.
It’s the number of stations of the cross and it’s one number more than the unlucky 13.
In 1980, 14 was the best age to be.
My friends and I were smoking enthusiastically, learning to drive and arranging our own social lives which started to include boys.
At school it was accepted that it was the year for maximum hijinks, not being the babies anymore and also not having to worry about sitting School Cert.
Our year group didn’t disappoint and earned more detentions and fatigues than any previous year had done. We exceeded expectations and not in a good way.
It’s the current age of my son, who I’m very relieved to say is far less rambunctious than his mother and her terrible friends.
And it’s the school year of my daughter. That’s right – Claudia is in Year 14.
She’s done years 1-13 and she’s back at school for another year. So when people ask what year she’s in at school it’s 14.
Here in New Zealand people like Claudia can stay at school until they are 21 (year 17!)
But much as she loves it, I don’t think she’ll be staying that long.
While there is currently no real plan ~ the idea of her being there in year 17 by default because I haven’t organized anything different is an incentive to plan something else for her by then.
Her Facebook feed is currently filled with pictures of her peers and their families, posing at home, at airports, in front of universities and over-excitedly in tiny bedrooms in tiny halls of residences.
They are off in a whirlwind of breathless independence, embarking on studies and careers as diverse as they are.
What they have done is Left Home.
Their parents appear wistful and reflective.
Those years have gone ~ “where did they go?!” they cry.
Their babies have gone and the “freedom” they now have from each other seems to hurt a bit more than they thought it might.
I don’t have that yet.
Claudia’s year 14 timetable is pretty much like her year 13 timetable- which suits her perfectly.
Today for instance, being a Tuesday, her timetable is
Move- Dance until morning tea time.
Then it’s News.
Then Music and Movement.
Then after lunch it’s a Disco until home-time.
It’s 30 degrees here today. That’s a lot of dancing in a day. She’ll sleep well tonight.
But today being a Tuesday, she won’t be sleeping here.
Because at 18, in year 14, we are ready for the first steps toward independence and Claudia has Tuesday nights with “Nata” and her family. She also has an overnighter there every second Friday night
Claudia’s “leaving home” at this point is three nights per fortnight with another family.
It’s a revelation! I’m overwhelmed with freedom!
I’ve been to the movies, we’ve been out to dinner, we’ve been to a wedding and we’ve sat and stared at each other at home and revelled in the fact no-one has had to get up and down to tend to her.
Like other parents who might wistfully wonder if their children are missing them a little bit, I waited to hear she was a bit sad, or asking for me. That never happened.
When I do enquire I’m sent pictures of Claudia tucked up cheerily in her “other” bedroom, surrounded by toys and happiness from her “other” family and I have to accept there is now a whole part of her life that I’m not part of. It’s hers – not mine.
This is what independence looks and feels like.
So while nothing happens in a hurry with Claudia, and her “last year” at school is more like 8 terms than 4, we have begun the process, long and uncertain as it is, of her leaving home.
One of my early blogs talked about the seven year times of massive widening gap between Claudia and her peers ; the ages of 7,14 and 21.
Now that we’re there I’d add this “Year 14” year as well, where her peers are suddenly a million miles from where she’s at. It’s a reminder of the differences. When other people exclaim at how quickly it all goes we sigh and think “no”.
But at least we have taken the first steps. Thanks to an amazing woman and her gorgeous family, we are beginning to imagine a future where Claudia “the Dominator” doesn’t actually dominate everything in our lives and moves a little further toward independence from us.
So far, we’re the ones in shock at the adjustment. Just like the other parents.
Claudia, like her peers, is thriving.
So maybe our road is longer and more winding than most people’s, and we’re certainly more tortoise than hare on that road – but there is finally the glimmer of the promise of a finish line, whatever and wherever that may end up being.