Two, actually. I bought two t-shirts, because I couldn’t decide between the short-sleeved hot pink shirt and the long-sleeved orange and blue shirt–school colors–so I went home with both. So, the deed is done. We dropped our younger son off at college and I didn’t die. I can tell you what leaving felt like, though. It felt like having a full-body bandage pulled off, with that last little sticky part that always stings the most being positioned right over my heart. But again, I didn’t die. Jim didn’t either. We were sort of thrown for the rest of the day, but we’re going to be absolutely just fine. Also, there…
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Actively Waiting For College…
The raw emotions I was experiencing last week seem to have gone away (for now?) as we creep closer to Wednesday, which is “Take J to College Day”. We’ve moved into a different phase of college move-in prep, too: the “actively waiting” phase. Just like his older brother (who also chose a college in Wisconsin, where school doesn’t begin until after Labor Day) did, he watched all of his friends head off to school ahead of him. Now we are just shuffling around, trying to keep ourselves busy until it’s his turn. We all know that this is happening, that it is supposed to happen, and we wouldn’t want it…
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Son Set
I really didn’t want to write about this–the emotion surrounding sending my kid off to college–since I wrote about it at length three years ago when I did it the first time, but I can’t help it. The fact is, I’m doing it again and I have returned to that state of mind. Under the circumstances, I feel an intense need for a cathartic release–again–especially because this time involves the added element of becoming an empty nester. Though I still carry a smile on my face and am truly, extremely happy, I have this inner shrieking and squirming that ebbs and flows underneath it all. The act of putting these…
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Stoopid Aweesome Indeed.
It’s rare that a day goes by on which there isn’t music playing in this house, thanks to J and his regular practice of his DJ skills. He’s hoping to get actual gigs someday, and in order for that to happen he has to work on increasing the length of his mixes. That’s why it’s not unusual for my house to be vibrating with heavy beats on any given evening, often while we’re preparing dinner. Unlike the parents who complain about their kids’ music being too loud or annoying–I often think of those who relegate a drum set to the garage or deep in the basement–I adore what J creates.…
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You’re Welcome.
I know I have a few “long-time, since-the-beginning” readers of Suburban Scrawl out there, and I figured that–on this very special weekend for our family–you might as well feel old like I do. You know, since you’ve been around. When I started blogging here at Suburban Scrawl in 2007, my younger son was twelve years old and in the sixth grade. Today, he is eighteen and a high school graduate. Who wants to go grab some dinner? I hear they have pretty good early-bird specials at 4:30. Then we can watch the news and head to bed early. (Also, thanks–TO ALL OF YOU–for reading and following my family’s adventures.)