We're down to two weeks now.
At this point, as the moving date gets closer, I find myself thinking less and less about 'the day'.
I don't know if this will make any sense to you, but it already feels like she's gone. I see the growing pile of boxes and clothing and newly-acquired bedding and such, but it might as well not be there.
She's already mentally on campus and exploring and making plans to meet up with friends.
I have found myself making my own plans and not considering her wants and needs before my own.
It feels foreign to me.
It almost feels like I'm betraying her and neglecting my duties as her mother.
Is it wrong for me to to be thinking about how much less stressful it will be once the clutter is gone and I can finally get my house back to normal?
Is it wrong to be thinking ahead to the fall months when I don't have to worry about groceries and cooking a full dinner and making sure she gets to work?
Is it wrong to be wondering about just how quiet this house is going to be without music blasting up through the floorboards and the washing machine constantly running and the endless chatter while she's on her cell phone?
No...it's not wrong.
I know that all of these feelings are perfectly normal.
It's just that they're not normal to me.
We spent a full morning together on campus this week: I hit the registrar's office to get a 'To Whom It May Concern' letter done up so that I have the proof of registration I need in order for me to be able to withdraw funds from the RESP; she met up with another student in order to purchase some used books for her first semester; we spent some time in the campus bookstore and loaded up on everything from textbooks to hoodies to U of W chapsticks.
She handled the morning well, for the most part. There were a few moments when I could see she was starting to feel overwhelmed and she had come to the realization that in two short weeks, this was going to be the place she called 'home'.
The next two weeks are going to disappear before our eyes.
I'm ready and not ready, all at the same time.
Scared for her and thrilled for her, all at the same time.
Happy and sad for me, all at the same time.
It won't hit her until she's through the whirlwind of moving into residence and all of the fun of orientation is over and classes are underway.
It won't hit me until I get the house back to normal and the I don't see work schedules on my calendar and I call downstairs to ask her to bring me something and there's no answer.
The air is full of excitement and unspoken expectations.
It's really happening; my baby is leaving home.
Wait a minute... let me clarify: My youngest (and my last) baby is leaving home.
Even when she comes back to visit (which will be often and with laundry in tow), things will not be the same. Things are about to change forever.
Intellectually, I'm ready for this.
Now, if only my heart could catch up....
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