This kid took me camping this year! We had a fabulous time–hard to believe he’s almost 18!
Geo picked out our site and even paid for our reservation! When did he get to be such a grown up? We had such a lovely time — it’s become a tradition, this mother/son camping trip. But this had to be our best trip ever. We hiked and cooked over the fire and the weather was absolutely amazing… I don’t think it dropped below 55 degrees, so it was downright balmy.
I’m still this child’s mother and our conversations still have a certain “tone.” But more and more, we’re becoming good friends. I’m so thankful for that we’re paving the road to being fast friends when he is an adult. Which, frankly, feels like it’s right around the corner!
When we came home he hauled all of our equipment down to storage and then put on a load of laundry, “Hey, anything you want me to wash for you while I’m at it?”
Last week IZ whisked me off to Cannon Beach for 2 nights. It was lovely. It’s been ages (since our son was 6?) since we’ve been alone in a hotel room together. We’ve just not had people in our world to leave our child with. The few times we did, when Geo was younger, we would come home to be inundated with tales of how “hard” it was for the caregiver. Stream of consciousness complaint, right as we hit the door. Sigh.
Nothing spoils that getaway zen like coming home to kid angst. Sure, I get it: he was a handful– kinda why his parents needed a little R&R, right? Your two days of dealing with a high energy kid hardly trumps my day to day existence. But, thanks for reminding me.
After the last get away, I looked at IZ and said, “I’m not going away until it’s no longer abuse to leave my kid on his own. And remind me to keep my mouth shut when I find myself in this situation with my own grandchildren!”
So, we traveled with the kid. Everywhere. And that wasn’t a bad thing. We’re a happy trio, we enjoy exploring together. It can be fun and exciting and worthwhile.
What it is not, is romantic. Children have a sixth sense about romance: the minute you start to get frisky or intimate, you’ll find you’re not alone by a long shot. (A related aside, how people co-sleep with toddlers is beyond me!) Little eyes are on you. Little bodies step between you. Little voices want attention. Excuse me, I was talking to your dad!
And it’s all good, because that’s the beauty of parenting. Sex is overrated, right? Half consumed coffee, unfinished conversations, is that glass of wine for me? Exhaustion and missing showers is the norm, the beautiful, glorious, norm.
I wouldn’t trade those days. But I won’t lie, the benefits to having college aged children are starting to dawn on me.
One of those benefits is that it isn’t abuse to leave them on their own! It’s not only NOT abuse, it’s easy. Granted, we were 40 minutes down the road, but I was more concerned over how the dog would fair than how the kid was getting on. (she has dementia and needs her routine!) Other than a few instant messages to check in on how the dog was doing, my child wasn’t on my mind. Instead, this beautiful man and I spent the time reconnecting. Dreaming and laughing and remembering what it was like when it was just us.
For the record, the world did not come to an end. The house wasn’t trashed, our son got himself to and from school without any mishaps, and the dog met us at the door and seemed completely unconcerned that we’d gone missing for 2 days.
And taped to the front door when we arrived was this:
Last night, our son was inducted into Phi Theta Kappa — an honor society for scholarship. We’re utterly proud of him, of course. Part of the ritual is to give each inductee a white rose — the symbol of purity. His is now gracing our home and it makes me smile.
It’s hard not to love a society that uses flowers as a symbol of success and aspiration. PTK’s call to wisdom, aspiration, and purity seems almost old fashioned in this world of text messaging and tabloid media.
Such lofty goals to aspire to: such worthy goals to achieve. Watching my son, oblivious to his parents in the audience, say his pledge and receive his rose surrounded by his peers– reminds me how important it is to have these sorts of aspirations. No matter what it is we do, reaching for something beyond ourselves while in the company of others with the same goals is important.
We need all need community. Finding a community that can sing your song, dream your dream, well–that’s the hard part.
At this very moment, our 17 year old is sitting his Physics final. This is the end of his second term at college and his spring break begins just as soon as he’s finished: having completed his Calculus final this morning.
Let me tell you, typing that paragraph is weird. We’ve been at this college thing now for six months and it still feels weird. And not just for me.
I took at a break from work yesterday and scooped up my college student for a quick trip to Starbucks. He loves going in the middle of his day, between classes: it’s a mental break. And it’s a chance for us to touch bases in a non-written form. (we’re on Instant Message a lot throughout the day.) At one point in the conversation he said, “I’m almost out the door. When I leave there’s no coming back to my childhood.”
He gets a little weepy at the idea, but then, so do I. It’s weird for all of us. I assured him, despite his skepticism now, that there would come a day soon where it wouldn’t be weird at all. Where he would be excited to visit and just as excited to return to his own life at school. “You can always come home, Geo– but trust me, something changes when you go off to college. You stop wanting to be at home all the time.”
It’s not just about his absence. I think we’re both feeling out how our relationship is changing. He isn’t ready and I’m not ready to stop being his “smother”… but, I’m letting go of the oversight more and more each day. And more and more, he’s solving things for himself and letting me in on the solution.
I think we’re on target. It feels like we’re exactly where we should be. We’re just a little sad that we’re at this point. And it’s my job, my last act of intense mothering, to point the way to a new relationship with my son, who is almost an adult.
He is not convinced that this moment will come. But we all know better, right? Besides, this is healthy. It’s a natural part of growing up. We want our children to leave the nest. Maybe not to go so far away; but we know they must leave, if they’re ever to truly live a life that belongs to them.
That being said, it’s utterly mind blowing for me to consider a life where he visits. It’s not only coming, it’s going to be OK. I recognize that it will feel weird at first to have him gone. And then we will grow used to the idea of our child living his own life. Just as we’ve grown used to seeing him less and less as he has moved into this new role of being a college student. I’m excited to see where his future takes him, even as I brush away tears at the thought.
I’m also beginning to recognize that the grief will eventually subside. That IZ and I, like our son, are beginning a new chapter of lives together. And, dare I admit, I’m looking forward to being alone, with my husband! We had a life together that predates this child of ours: and we’ll have a life together once he’s out of the house.
There is a new equilibrium coming. A space and time where our adult child is thriving in a world of his own. It’s just a matter of getting there.
