Hardest Part

My baby bird is almost ready to fly out of the nest. Of course, he is no baby; but you can't tell the mama bird that. I've been feeling The Sads for sure, mostly when I'm alone. It seems a little more pronounced this morning: only 2 days left, and it is grey and rainy-looking outside. 

There are a few great things about this time, to help me counterbalance myself. My mama friends and I are checking on each other frequently, which is so nice. We're all in this together. We're planning a brunch or wine night after everyone gets settled at their respective colleges; hopefully we'll boo-hoo a little, and then laugh a lot more. There's also this flood of memories: I've been trying really hard to put myself back in the shoes of the new college kid, and remember just how much FUN it was when I was a freshman who had just moved into her dorm. I think my freshman year was my very favorite year, out of four great years (I loved college so much). All shiny and new. Everyone else, too -- no one had an edge, we were all wide-eyed and knew nothing. Meeting people from Ohio, Minnesota, Baltimore, California, Philadelphia. Deciding which ones I wanted to be friends with. My freshman hallmates were sweet and we were pretty close at the beginning. I loved gathering up a group to go to dinner together, and letting our RA take us some of the places we needed to know about for the first time, like the nearby grocery store, or where to get the best frozen yogurt. I loved the newness of classes, and having them in interesting buildings, and walking across a grassy quad in between them. 

So: I'm trying to keep my focus there, instead of here at home, where his room is about to be empty and silent, and I won't need to buy apple juice as frequently because Kate doesn't really drink it. It's weird, those tiny things that will change. The hallway door to his bathroom can finally stay open, instead of how he keeps it closed and locked. His keys won't be hanging on the hook by the garage. There will be plenty of room on the living room couch since there will only be 3 of us.

I remind myself that he'll come back. On every form, his "Permanent Address" still says our house. And my coworker reminded me, 'If he's like most kids of this generation, he may come back after 4 years and live with you again," hahaha. And he may. We told him he's welcome to do that... while he figures out what to do next. 

There's also hope that the day of move-in will be stressful enough that I won't cry too much. This is what got me through his graduation ceremony without a single tear. The chaos of hauling boxes and bins to the third floor should make me too sweaty and tired to be sad, thank the good Lord. 

Anyway, we've arrived at the part of parenting that we never thought would get here this quickly. It is an unsurprising roller coaster of feelings and I'll be glad when the motion stops for a bit. I'll be glad when it's a Sunday night and we can have a somewhat regular FaceTime call with him, and hear about how much fun he's having.

These next two days, though: definitely the hardest part.