The girl has left the nest. She’s headed to college, settling into her dorm on the 10th floor of a bustling D1 campus, where the number of students is probably more than in her entire graduating class.
She’s thrilled, ready to change the world, and frankly, no one who knows her is surprised. This past summer, she flitted around like a specter, juggling three jobs. There were days when I only caught a whiff of her shampoo as she zipped past me. Reflecting on it now, it feels like the universe was nudging me to get accustomed to her absence.
Her eagerness to escape the confines of our small town escalated rapidly, reaching a peak right after graduation. By the time the last embers of her graduation party faded, she was more than ready to leave. I totally get it; she’s definitely her mother’s daughter.
After dropping her off, I hesitated a couple of days before daring to step into her room. Honestly, I could’ve gone in with a hazmat suit or a bulldozer. (A knowing nod to every mom of a teenage girl, am I right?) It was chaotic. I had held my tongue during the final weeks of summer, wanting a peaceful farewell. With so much stress leading up to departure day, I let her room descend into a post-apocalyptic state.
Yet, as her last night at home wore on, I noticed her anxiety kick into high gear, highlighted by frantic cries of “Where’s my insurance card?!” followed by a soft, “Oh, there it is,” just minutes later. This was a recurring theme.
She left in a whirlwind of excitement, stepping into a new chapter that was as bittersweet as the books describe. And yes, there was a bit of “I can’t wait” energy buzzing between us.
I sent my oldest son off to the Air Force Reserves a few years back, so I’m no stranger to the emotional rollercoaster of sending a kid off. With him, it felt different; he was reckless, and I never slept better than on the day he entered boot camp. (Another nod of understanding from moms of wild teenage boys.)
In this case, I’m genuinely excited for her, and surprisingly, I don’t miss her as acutely as I thought I would. She checks in more often than when she was home and shares details about her new experiences, relishing the taste of independence she craved.
I know this calm will come back to haunt me when she returns for winter and summer breaks. I can already picture the “Rules? What are those?” debates brewing. Fun times are certainly ahead…
While she’s away, I relish the peace of not rushing around each morning hunting for my comb, cream, mascara, or favorite cork-heeled sandals (which, let’s be real, are probably in her dorm). For now, her wet towels are absent from the floor.
Yet, I find myself missing our shared viewings of Rock of Ages whenever it pops up on cable. My heart gives a little twinge realizing I don’t have to order a special vegetarian dish when we get takeout. And sadly, the only scents wafting through the house are Old Spice and Axe, not her expensive shampoo.
But I know she’s just a text away, and I miss her immensely. Right as I was wrapping up this piece, I received a text from her: “I miss you guys.”
See? Maybe all that melodramatic, “get me out of here!” teenage angst isn’t as potent anymore. Perhaps she heard an ’80s tune from Rock of Ages and thought of me. Maybe she’s looking forward to returning to her clean room at Thanksgiving. Regardless of the reason, you bet I’m saving that text.
For more insights on navigating parenthood and home insemination, check out this resource and learn from experts like Cryobaby. If you’re curious about IUI success, WebMD has some excellent information.
In summary, while I miss her presence, I’m excited for what lies ahead for her. Our relationship may evolve, but the bond remains strong, even from a distance.