A little less than five weeks, actually.
I don't know whether to celebrate or begin the mourning process.
My house is beginning to look like a war zone: There are banker boxes in my home office; rubbermaid containers litter the downstairs hallway; the living room couch is covered in garbage bags filled with clothes deemed too small, too out-of-date, too 'uncool' to wear, and are destined for the local Value Village.
I've given up trying to keep the house dusted, cleaned, and organized. I figure I can put on my Domestic Goddess hat after September 1st when I am looking for things to do to fill the time and the 'missing her' begins in earnest. I don't know about you, but my house is never cleaner than when I am upset, angry, lonely or a mixture of all three. I have a feeling that by the beginning of October, my house will be in a state of readiness for a Good Housekeeping photo shoot.
The first-born instincts to research, make lists, and execute a plan that have lain dormant inside of me for quite a while are kicking into high gear again. My mothering genes are bubbling over. There's so much to do and I want to make sure that nothing falls through the cracks.
Tuition and residence fees paid? Check!
Course selections reviewed and breadth requirements met? Check!
WATcard photo sent and books for the first semester arranged for? Check!
And those are just the things she knows about...
Inside those banker boxes in my office? The results of small, yet carefully planned, weekly excursions to the local Walmart.
Week one was what I called 'the medicine cabinet' spree. From Tylenol to toiletries... hairspray to a heating pad... This kid is practically going to have a small pharmacy in her room.
Week two was school supplies. Little things like the index cards she likes to use when she is studying for a test and sticky notes and a desk calendar. Although the alphabet poster was tempting, I left it behind in the store. Left behind, yes. Out of mind? No. I don't care how old your kids are, September can bring out the latent primary school teacher in all of us. You're going to hate me for this, but one of my favourite commercials of all time was the one that Staples did years ago for their Back to School campaign. Yep, that one. You can curse me for reminding you of that song -- the Christmas tune that shall remain nameless in the off-chance that it might become the song that never ends in your brain today -- that still gets me smiling whenever I hear it.
Ooops.... did I post that?? *innocent look*
There's new sets of sheets (twin beds in the residence, dont'cha know), new pillows, new slippers.
There's old pictures, old books, old memories.
There's 'little pieces of me' thrown into the boxes for good measure as well.
I decided against the full-size poster of a picture taken of me on one of my better hair days, and went for the small framed photo of the two of us together at a football game.
Tucked between flip-flops for the shower and some packages of red licorice, there's a little stuffed moose that I sprayed with the scent that I always wear.
And what 'Don't Forget About Me' just-a-little-bit Emotional First Year University Parent Kit would be complete without a package of note cards, nice pen and a book of stamps? I know it's not a very subtle hint, but hey, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do... :)
All in all, the countdown is moving forward far too quickly and at a snail's pace all at once.
I am excited with her, for her, because of her.
I am melancholy with her, for her, because of her.
Like sand through the hourglass, so will be the next five weeks of our lives....
No comments:
Post a Comment