Monday, August 20, 2012
WARNING: The following post is rambling and disjointed. As within, so without.
Tonight will be the last night Woohoo will sleep at "home," as she informed me. Starting tomorrow, college will be "home" and this will be, I don't know exactly, I guess the place where her family lives. For those of you that put your little babies on airplanes and send them off to college in far away places, I bow to you. Woohoo will be 30 minutes away and psychologically, that is just super helpful. Not to mention how practical and easy it is as far as managing her move and our juggling act with Rojo.
I'm having college dreams left and right - the latest one was finding out I'd missed the first three weeks of my high level Spanish class (!) and then discovering it met at 10:30 PM, ruling that OUT for me, as my bedtime is 9:30 (at the latest).
I am 90% excited and happy for her - truly, my four years of college were among my happiest and most carefree. I loved learning, loved my living situation, loved my friends, loved being "independent," loved it all. I am hoping the same is true for her. 10% of me is nervous. How will she manage? Will she find her calling? Her friends? Her "thing?" Will she not just survive, but really thrive there?
Today she is spending the entire day saying goodbye to friends, one right after the other. Tomorrow it's the grandparents. Although she will be close, and can come home for birthdays, holidays, and special occasions, we have told her she's entitled to be "away at college" and her attendance is not required.
Yesterday Rojo was a bear - super grumpy, snappy, sassy and generally difficult. Today he has kept himself away from the house almost the entire day. He will miss her. He knows that, but he cannot/does not say that. He doesn't know a home in which she is not an integral, day-to-day part.
Kathleen is taking her youngest to college this week, too. Above is a picture of our two little girls thirteen years ago. Good thing Kathleen and I don't look a day older than we did then, but boy, have our girls changed! Although she's been through this two other times, this time it's the hardest - her baby. "Forced retirement," she says, then end of full-time parenting for a woman that's made it more than a career (even when she's had concurrent jobs). And even though it is not the end of my parenting (not by a long shot), it is the end of something.
And the beginning of more.