Month: October 2019

College Should Be A Four Letter Word

Damn. Shit. Fuck. These are all words that I could use instead of the word “college”. As these are the words I muttered to myself a lot over the last 3 days, when realizing that “college” and my kiddo leaving is actually, for reals, happening. This is not something far off that I can deal with later, this asshole (college) just looked me right in the face and said “I’m going to be the the reason your son leaves your house for at least the next four years. Cheers!”.

Smug Bastard.

I just returned from a true college visit with my son. He has been “tagged” by a college for a sport that he’s played for quite a few years now (yay!) and they wanted him to come out and stay with the team for a few days in the dorms. They wanted to ensure that he meshed well with everyone so that it was the right place for him and vice versa. What a great way to get a glimpse into college right?! What an amazing experience for him!

I cried. Like, a lot.

The moment I dropped him off with the team and went back to the hotel room. I sobbed. I sobbed some more. Then, yes you guessed it, I sobbed a little more. I texted my poor husband, who couldn’t come with us, and bless this man for putting up with my madness. He listened, he sympathized (he suggested perhaps a glass of wine might be nice) and he did his best to talk me down even though he was hundreds of miles away. Side note; I regularly wonder how men (my husband in particular) are not more screwed up when dealing with the varying emotions of women? But, I digress.

I felt as though someone just kicked me in the gut and then said “alright, you’re fine keep walking”. I also felt like I was losing my mind because who cries and sobs when they leave their kiddo with a team of grown ass men who are interested in becoming part of his new family for the next four years?! Ok, I just re-read that and I think I answered my own question there. I was NOT consulted on who could come into my sons world and be his family when I am not there, so therefore, I am not ok with this.

But, I have to be. I truly have no choice. I can have an opinion and ask questions but it is ultimately not my decision. Its my son’s, to make. This is his life and his next four years, not mine and sadly, I have not been invited to this part of his journey. Lets, just take a second and talk about this part. Why can’t Mom’s go to college with their kiddos? I mean is it really such a bad and “weird” thing to do? What college kid wouldn’t want his Mom right beside him when he comes home from a long day of classes, to ask him how his day was, feed him a snack and do his laundry?! I am obviously kidding …. sort of. I suppose I could ask my son to take his brilliant mind, tell it to shut up and become a recluse in our home for the entirety of his life?! Ok, we’ll call that “Plan B”.

In all honesty, there is a large portion of me that is incredibly excited to be a witness to this next stage of my sons life. It is truly an amazing gift that we as parents get, to be a witness to someone else’s life. I just wish that it didn’t have to be done hundreds of miles away from me.

Which is why college shall here forth be referred to as that “damn shit bastard”, not only does it make for good conversation it gives me a little sense of joy and laughter when I say it out loud. And the one thing that EVERY parent going through this needs is, a little sense of joy and laughter while we deal with the four letter word “college” aka “damn shit bastard”.

My So Called Adult Life……

Remember that show back in the 90’s called “My So Called Life”, that was based around a teenage girl and all the angst and emotions that came with being a teenage girl? I use to love that show and feel like the main character, really got me and made me feel like maybe I wasn’t an oddball after all. When I progressed through those teenage years, I cannot describe the relief I felt in thinking “thank God I don’t have to go through that again. That was hell”.

This is where God actually sat back and took a nice hearty laugh at my expense while he knew just what was about to come down the road a mere 2 years out of my teens.

That hilarious punk (yes God, he’s cool that I call him a punk, it’s a term of endearment I use) gave me and my husband the biggest surprise of my life. A surprise that was touted as “99% effective so you don’t need to worry at all!”. Well, that .000001% chance that any effective birth control can’t give you, is our son. God looked at me and said “You thought the hardest was behind you (insert that hearty laugh here) …. I am going to give you the greatest, most emotionally charged, terrifying thrill ride of your life.

Motherhood.

(aka, the scariest hood you’ll ever go through).

With that I entered what I call “My So Called Adult Life” as I ventured into this hood at the ripe age of 21 and had not even begun to grow up my self. My son and I have grown up together, he’s taught me lessons that no one else could have ever done and in this time he’s become one of my best friends.

There are countless books, blogs, tv shows, magazines, websites, social media accounts, cartoons, you name it; based on Motherhood and that madness that comes with it. However, you never fully understand it until you are in it and it’s completely different in so many ways based on you and your child AND it changes constantly.

Lets just be honest; if someone listed Motherhood in the manner of a job title (with no pay), I don’t think anyone would apply. I envision it would read a little something like this;

WANTED: Applicant for fast paced growing individual who seeks all manner of help in daily life. Including but not limited to cleaning, feeding and bathing. Must be able to be an advocate against the world, lead all social interactions and engagements. Continual scheduling for all travel, appointments, school forms, extra curricular activities and health needs is a must. Work will consist of caring for individual in times of health and sickness regardless of the hour; this includes staying up late to ensure said individual arrives home safely after you’ve performed 16 years of work on the job. Job will change at a moments notice and on a revolving basis. Must be available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, all holidays and no pay. Applicant will work on a volunteer basis and must fund any and all financial obligations. Benefits include hugs, snuggles, laughter and being needed and benefits will decrease or increase in varying ways without notice.

See what I’m saying? No sane person would apply for that. Especially because what they don’t tell you in the ad is that at the end of 17 years you will be forced into retirement. You will be asked to step down from your current position and let said individual take another position as an intern for the company of “The Real World” (not the television show, just to clarify) and you have no say in this. Hugs and snuggles will decrease drastically over the latter years and you will surely become an annoyance to them 90% of the time.

You will watch your child take flight in the real world and start their own life and adventures.

Without.

You.

I will pause while you cry, like I did, when I just wrote that.

Being a mother who is preparing their child for their last year at home, is by far the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life and I am only 4 months into it. Someone forgot to tell me about this part of Motherhood. I say “forgot”, but I really think everyone just chooses not to acknowledge the fact that you are about to go through the most emotionally charged stage of both you and your child’s life thus far.

Since I am not coping with this all particularly well, I thought “lets write about it and send it out into cyberspace, in the off chance that someone else who is embarking or about to embark on the hardest part of Motherhood; can feel like they are not alone.” Because, you aren’t. I am not, so you clearly can’t be either.

Over the next 9 months (ironic) you will get to embark with me on what going through this really looks like and just how hard (but maybe great too?) this all will be. There will be tears. There will be fits of anger. There will most definitely be cursing and wine drinking. Most importantly; there will be a new adventure beginning ……

Welcome to “My So Called Adult Life”.