How’d college drop-off go?
As soon as we left the house, I grabbed Anna’s hand and said, “It took us eighteen years to prepare for this drive.” I was bawling before we left Clinton Avenue.
It was a long two days of loading and unloading and setting up and last minute shopping and crying, before we kissed Anna good-bye and headed home to our new chapter. The house seems a little too quiet, but I’m not as sad as I’d expected. Sad would mean that I’m waking up in the middle of the night crying and sitting in Anna’s room counting the days until she comes home for Thanksgiving break (81 – maybe I am counting a little, but I’m staying clear of her room). I’m not sad, instead I’d describe it as feeling lost.
I’m getting along fine and then something will hit me. The empty stool at the kitchen island or the missing pile of shoes at the front door. I’m missing that fight in the morning when there’s no milk for my coffee because Anna and her friends had late-night bowls of cereal while watching Gilmore Girls. I miss Anna’s boyfriend, Will, racing into our house and wrestling a hug out of Jack. I miss the dirty dishes in the sink. I keep wondering when Anna will be home for dinner before remembering that she won’t be home for three months.
I also miss the chaos of being an everyday parent of a typical kid.
Anna has been our anchor to typical parenting. She’s linked us to her typical schools with their typical sports and typical classes. She’s had piles of typical friends that filled our house with typical snacks and typical teenage drama. She allowed us to get distracted from IEPs and changing G-tubes, because we needed to worry about curfews and grades and other typical stuff.
Being Jack’s mother is my honor and I love (almost) every ounce of parenting him, but it’s different. It’s not the parenting that you read about in novels or watch in movies. It’s not the parenting that MOST of my friends have experienced. It’s not the same parenting that raised me or raised Dan. I pride myself in not needing to be like everyone else, but it has been nice to be part of the conversation when people are talking about t-ball, middle school drama, first boyfriends, driving tests, and college essays.
I’m scared that without my anchor I will be left adrift.
The biggest accomplishments of my life have been as a mother. I am not pretending that I’ve been a perfect parent. There’s a long list of mistakes I’ve made along the way (things I wish I had taken more seriously – things that I did that make me cringe) but, when I look at our two children, I’m so proud of what I helped to create. I’ve grown to embrace being part of Jack’s beautiful, complicated life, and I’ve also loved being anchored to the day-to-day typical parenting world thanks to Anna.
I know that parenting isn’t over when kids head off to school or go to work or start their own families. I just hurt my toe (long story that means I will never go into Trader Joe’s again without wearing boots), and the first person I called was my mother. The last few days Anna has reached out to share stories about her first days on campus. I know I will be part of Anna’s life forever, but my anchor is now 156 miles away. She will no longer share every detail of her experiences. She will make friends that I will never meet and do things that I haven’t signed off on or understand. She is starting her new life. I’ll always be part of it, but a smaller part than I was a week ago.
I’m trying to get my bearings and am really trying not to overdo the calling/texting/face-timing. I want to give Anna space to fly, but it’s hard not to hear her voice around the house, “Mooommmmmm, where’s my backpack/curling iron/charger?” “Mooommmmmmm, what’s for dinner?!?” “Mooommmm, can I take the car?!?”
Jack is doing a great job of keeping me distracted. As I’m writing this (on the couch, with my foot elevated and covered with a pile of ice), Jack is sitting next to me laughing at his Impractical Jokers. Jack might not be “typical”, but he sure is great company!
PS Anna isn’t just a pleasure to parent, she’s the best friend I could ever ask for. Maybe I am a little sad. Just a little. Enjoy every second Blue Jay Banana, but don’t forget to FaceTime!!!