Beloved Child has been gone more than six weeks already. Mostly I receive one word answers to how she is doing at school. Me: "How are you?" Child: "Good." Me: "How is school?" Child: "Fine." On occasion she will call and chat for a moment when she is walking to a class or back to her dorm, but mostly I get briefly worded texts and an occasional phone call. Amazingly, I am alright with this. She is SUPPOSED to be spreading her wings, learning to deal with things on her own, making new friends and finding her own way in a new environment. I guess most of what I feel right now is relief. Because I hear so little, I know that she is surviving her new challenges and adapting to her new circumstances.
Things I have learned: 1) She dropped a class. She decided on her own, did the appropriate paperwork and made certain that she was okay for credits. 2) Her initial roommate situation did not work out. She found a solution, changed rooms and only called to let me know that she was going to move to a new room. 3) She has made friends. I will likely never know where they are from, what they are studying or who their families are because, in truth, it doesn't matter any more if I know or not. (and yes, this part IS weird)
It is funny though, the things I wish I knew. It was Parent's Weekend this weekend. I did not go to the offered activities because Beloved Child actually came home to get some "stuff" (her word, she said she needed things for her room, but she would only know what things when she saw them). As the University Parent's Weekend does not involve meeting the teachers and hearing how your kid is doing, I did not figure I was missing much. The showcase hockey game was sold out, the barbeque would be a bust since I don't eat meat and in truth, Beloved Child would prefer that I not hang out in her new world. Meeting teachers and knowing how she is doing are things of the past now. My "Beloved Child" is considered a grownup by her professors and peers. My baby.
So, here it is, six or more weeks in. Friends tell me how often their kids call home (one daughter of a friend texts each night to say "good night") and ask me what I hear from mine. I am content with my answer, "I assume she is fine. I don't hear much from her." This is the way it is supposed to be.
So, she is home today. The lights are on, the dryer is running and she is playing piano. I'm enjoying the moment. Peace in my heart. Peace in my home.
Saturday, October 5, 2013
Monday, August 19, 2013
A Whole New World
In all of my life I have wished for nothing more than to be a mama.
July 31st, 1995 in Changsha, China, that wish came true.
Yesterday, August 18th, I dropped Beloved Child off at college.
Her life and mine will never be the same from this day on.
She is happy, excited, ready to be challenged and independent.
This is what I have been raising her to do.
To create her own life.
To seek out her own dreams.
I am not grieving. I am sad that the day to day life of parenting is over,
but it would be selfish of me to want it to have unfolded any differently.
She is happy, healthy, confident, curious and kind.
She WILL find her way in the world.
I will be here, always.
All of my life I have wanted to be a mama. I still am one. A whole new world.
July 31st, 1995 in Changsha, China, that wish came true.
Yesterday, August 18th, I dropped Beloved Child off at college.
Her life and mine will never be the same from this day on.
She is happy, excited, ready to be challenged and independent.
This is what I have been raising her to do.
To create her own life.
To seek out her own dreams.
I am not grieving. I am sad that the day to day life of parenting is over,
but it would be selfish of me to want it to have unfolded any differently.
She is happy, healthy, confident, curious and kind.
She WILL find her way in the world.
I will be here, always.
All of my life I have wanted to be a mama. I still am one. A whole new world.
Saturday, August 10, 2013
One Last Week Until School Begins
Beloved Child came home today from her summer job. She has 8 days to get ready to leave for school. A week from tomorrow we go. A week! A week? Is it time already? How can this be?
As I walked this evening, I noticed that one of the swamp maples along the road had turned red, seemingly overnight. The asters are blooming and the ferns on the verges of the road are turning yellow and brown. Fall is approaching. Fall means school. It is time.
It is so interesting to think about my own leaving for college experience. My mom dropped me off, helped me to take my things up the stairs and then she left after saying "good-bye". I don't know what it was like for her (and I am certain that she does not remember). She was pretty involved in her own life at that point. After one more year my brother left for college then she sold the house and moved to New York for 4 years.
I remember that my roommate had not arrived yet, that it was a long weekend and that I was reading Leon Uris's Exodus. I spent the weekend lying on my bed finishing the book and feeling awkward and confused about what I should be doing before classes began. Maybe I walked around campus? I know that we had arena scheduling and I signed up on too many lists of "Christian" interest groups who then began knocking at my door. I was completely naive about the evangelical type of Christians and called home to my ministers (parents of good friends) crying and panic stricken because the evangelicals told me that there was only one way to believe and that was their way. (Consequently I was doing it wrong.)
I was not used to the noise and chaos and my dorm was full of both. I was on the 3rd floor and a giant 7-Up bottle was painted on my ceiling. Cinder block walls, a single bed, a desk and a closet were on my half of the room. I had a trunk, a portable record player and Paddington Bear sheets.
I had just come from a summer job that had been emotionally rough on me. I was kind of (!) lost and alone. No clue what to do in a new town,new school and no touchstone.
Remembering this stuff and now thinking, "O God, please let my daughter have better internal and external resources than I did. Let her know how to reach out for friends and fun. Let her know how to ask questions and ask for help. Let her know that I am here fro her always. Life doesn't have to be so hard."
Flashbacks, memories and hopes. 8 more days.
As I walked this evening, I noticed that one of the swamp maples along the road had turned red, seemingly overnight. The asters are blooming and the ferns on the verges of the road are turning yellow and brown. Fall is approaching. Fall means school. It is time.
It is so interesting to think about my own leaving for college experience. My mom dropped me off, helped me to take my things up the stairs and then she left after saying "good-bye". I don't know what it was like for her (and I am certain that she does not remember). She was pretty involved in her own life at that point. After one more year my brother left for college then she sold the house and moved to New York for 4 years.
I remember that my roommate had not arrived yet, that it was a long weekend and that I was reading Leon Uris's Exodus. I spent the weekend lying on my bed finishing the book and feeling awkward and confused about what I should be doing before classes began. Maybe I walked around campus? I know that we had arena scheduling and I signed up on too many lists of "Christian" interest groups who then began knocking at my door. I was completely naive about the evangelical type of Christians and called home to my ministers (parents of good friends) crying and panic stricken because the evangelicals told me that there was only one way to believe and that was their way. (Consequently I was doing it wrong.)
I was not used to the noise and chaos and my dorm was full of both. I was on the 3rd floor and a giant 7-Up bottle was painted on my ceiling. Cinder block walls, a single bed, a desk and a closet were on my half of the room. I had a trunk, a portable record player and Paddington Bear sheets.
I had just come from a summer job that had been emotionally rough on me. I was kind of (!) lost and alone. No clue what to do in a new town,new school and no touchstone.
Remembering this stuff and now thinking, "O God, please let my daughter have better internal and external resources than I did. Let her know how to reach out for friends and fun. Let her know how to ask questions and ask for help. Let her know that I am here fro her always. Life doesn't have to be so hard."
Flashbacks, memories and hopes. 8 more days.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Did He Just Say That?
Normally I write about Beloved Child and my journey parenting a teen soon to be leaving home for college.
Not today though. So many of you have written about the odd and disconcerting things that people say to you when they see you have a child who might be adopted. Today was my day, but not with my child.
I am not an avid yard saler on a regular basis. This morning I went to the local farmer's market and then decided to stop by a yard sale that I had seen advertised. I parked and walked down the long driveway, noticing that lots of people were leaving but no one was carrying anything that they had purchased (a sign that things are overpriced?). I wandered around for a few minutes and then saw two little girls digging through a bin full of trolls. Of course I had to stop and chat with them about the trolls and the hair color etc. and then with their mom who was standing nearby. After a little chatting about the dolls and the other amazing things the little girls were finding, I asked about her girls, as one was blonde and the other appeared to be African or African American. She told me that the younger one was adopted in Ethiopia. Excitedly, I shared that several of my friends have sons and daughters from Ethiopia and that my own daughter is from China. We engaged in the usual type of conversation that parents do when they have something like this in common - we talked about the waiting, the challenges, the countries etc. and then, (this is the odd part), an older man who was overhearing our conversation jumped in with, "Have you heard how the terrorists are using babies to bring in bombs and weapons to this country and that they put the bombs on them or in them so it doesn't hurt them?"
He went on about babies and terrorists and bombs for a few minutes and then wandered off. I looked at the mom and said something like "Well, that was inappropriate, especially in front of the kids." She responded with "I'll have to think of what to say to people like that when they (the girls) are older and can understand."
I wish I had thought to say to the man "What kind of idiot are you, saying that to a mom and in front of her kids?" Really and truly, I am generally a polite person, but what can you say to someone who says something like this to you?
The mom and I continued to talk, her husband joining the conversation and we exchanged email addresses and moved on, but since the odd man's comments I have been thinking, "Did he just say that?"
p.s. another odd thing - the trolls. If it had been my yard sale I would have been handing out those trolls to every little kid who came along, free for the taking. The yard sale woman came by and said to the mom, "Those are collector's items. I really have to charge $5. a piece for them." $5. for a used troll? Really. I am stunned.
Not today though. So many of you have written about the odd and disconcerting things that people say to you when they see you have a child who might be adopted. Today was my day, but not with my child.
I am not an avid yard saler on a regular basis. This morning I went to the local farmer's market and then decided to stop by a yard sale that I had seen advertised. I parked and walked down the long driveway, noticing that lots of people were leaving but no one was carrying anything that they had purchased (a sign that things are overpriced?). I wandered around for a few minutes and then saw two little girls digging through a bin full of trolls. Of course I had to stop and chat with them about the trolls and the hair color etc. and then with their mom who was standing nearby. After a little chatting about the dolls and the other amazing things the little girls were finding, I asked about her girls, as one was blonde and the other appeared to be African or African American. She told me that the younger one was adopted in Ethiopia. Excitedly, I shared that several of my friends have sons and daughters from Ethiopia and that my own daughter is from China. We engaged in the usual type of conversation that parents do when they have something like this in common - we talked about the waiting, the challenges, the countries etc. and then, (this is the odd part), an older man who was overhearing our conversation jumped in with, "Have you heard how the terrorists are using babies to bring in bombs and weapons to this country and that they put the bombs on them or in them so it doesn't hurt them?"
He went on about babies and terrorists and bombs for a few minutes and then wandered off. I looked at the mom and said something like "Well, that was inappropriate, especially in front of the kids." She responded with "I'll have to think of what to say to people like that when they (the girls) are older and can understand."
I wish I had thought to say to the man "What kind of idiot are you, saying that to a mom and in front of her kids?" Really and truly, I am generally a polite person, but what can you say to someone who says something like this to you?
The mom and I continued to talk, her husband joining the conversation and we exchanged email addresses and moved on, but since the odd man's comments I have been thinking, "Did he just say that?"
p.s. another odd thing - the trolls. If it had been my yard sale I would have been handing out those trolls to every little kid who came along, free for the taking. The yard sale woman came by and said to the mom, "Those are collector's items. I really have to charge $5. a piece for them." $5. for a used troll? Really. I am stunned.
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Cleaning Out Cupboards (and bags and boxes)
As Beloved Child continues to enjoy her free time before heading off to her summer job, I am looking through the piles of accumulated "stuff" that has landed in the basement and on the porch, detritus from when she has "cleaned her room". I put "cleaned her room" in quotation marks because when she sorts through her things she cannot bear to actually throw anything out. Instead she puts it in a bag or a box and leaves it somewhere else in the house.
Finding one (or more) of these bags or boxes is like opening a time capsule. There are little girl journals with the first page or two written on. There are craft projects abandoned before completion. There are decks of tiny cards, stubs of crayons, costume jewelry and innumerable stocking stuffers from Christmases gone by, all jumbled in with single mittens and abandoned hair ribbons.
I am pawing through these bags of memories, trying to see what can be mailed to friends' who have littler girls and deciding what is just trash and must, finally, be tossed out. I found a ball of yarn that she spun on her spinning wheel. Hmmm... can't through that out. The box she made in middle school shop class...is that also a must keep? And so it goes, an hour goes by and I have to stop. I need more garbage bags and a plastic tote box for the things that I cannot yet consign to the dump.
It is a hot, summer day here. Beloved Child is at the beach with friends.
I am wandering through the past. Peacefully.
Finding one (or more) of these bags or boxes is like opening a time capsule. There are little girl journals with the first page or two written on. There are craft projects abandoned before completion. There are decks of tiny cards, stubs of crayons, costume jewelry and innumerable stocking stuffers from Christmases gone by, all jumbled in with single mittens and abandoned hair ribbons.
I am pawing through these bags of memories, trying to see what can be mailed to friends' who have littler girls and deciding what is just trash and must, finally, be tossed out. I found a ball of yarn that she spun on her spinning wheel. Hmmm... can't through that out. The box she made in middle school shop class...is that also a must keep? And so it goes, an hour goes by and I have to stop. I need more garbage bags and a plastic tote box for the things that I cannot yet consign to the dump.
It is a hot, summer day here. Beloved Child is at the beach with friends.
I am wandering through the past. Peacefully.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Graduated!
Blue sky 90 degree day.
1000 people under a white tent on a green field.
107 students in caps and gowns.
Red roses. Green covered diplomas.
Beloved Child
Proud Mama.
And so, it is done. An exhausting month of Senior project, presentations and preparations for graduation and now it is finished. Beloved Child says it feels "surreal" that it is over now. All of the build up and preparation and seemingly, in an instant, it is done. The speeches have been heard, the awards received and the applause given. Celebratory meals have been consumed, thank you notes have been written and Grandma is on her way back home. Beloved Child is so very tired. It is now time to rest and reflect, at least for a few days.
It is very odd, after this whole year of preparing for "the end" to have it finally arrive. I wonder if this is the last time she will live at home for any length of time. From now on she will choose whether I know about her classes or her grades or even her friends. I hardly know what to say or write.
I marvel that I have raised a child to this point in her life.
She has wings.
Fly safe, Beloved Child.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
One Week Left
In a week, Beloved Child will graduate from high school.
In seven days she will leave the place that has encouraged her and challenged her for four years
and she will step out into a realm of new opportunities.
She will not look back, fondly or otherwise, she says.
She is already scanning the horizon for what comes next.
In a week, Beloved Child will graduate from high school.
At this moment she is on an airplane, returning from her three week Senior Project. She worked with seals and sea lions doing rescue, rehabilitation and release. Once again she has had amazing opportunities that some of us can only dream of in our imaginations. My child is a girl who says , "Yes", and it shows. Do you want to feel the seals? "Yes." "Do you want to come visit the satellite site that is 2 hours away?" "Yes." "Come watch this surgery." "Okay, sure." At night she is exhausted and worn out. By morning she is on the go again. Tonight she will step off of the plane, hungry for food, tired from the flight and already planning the next adventure. Her wings are unfurling faster than I can keep up.
In a week, Beloved Child will graduate from high school.
Saturday, April 27, 2013
A Week and a Decision
Last Saturday we were at UNH for an Accepted Students event. Walking onto the campus, Beloved Child says, "This is prettier than I thought." Inside my head I was cheering but saying nothing aloud, because I did not want to jinx it. UNH is the school she did not want to apply to EVER. UNH is the school she was not going to go to NO MATTER WHAT! UNH was the safety school that I MADE her apply to in case nothing else worked out. UNH has almost everything she wants in a school except that it is in NH.
She was down to 5 schools to decide from by May 1st, which is "Send in your Money Day" at all colleges. We had waited to go to this event because in truth, she did not want UNH on her list. It was a good visit. We were the only people there to visit with the professor from her major, so it was a one on one conversation about the classes, the opportunities and her interests. We had lunch in one of the dining halls, walked across the main campus where trees were starting to blossom and the grass was turning green.
We came home and she was pleased but non-committal regarding her decision. We had plans to go to Florida the next Friday to look at one more school, a very small liberal arts college on the sea coast. She wanted to see it before she could come to any final choice and then, (cue music of doom)
the car she drives needed to be inspected before it could be re-registered for another year. It is 40 dollars to have it inspected, whether or not it passes. Our deal has been that if she wanted to drive the car that inspections, registration and small repairs (the only kind worth doing on a car so old) are up to her to finance. Monday, the car went to the shop and the car guy told her that it would pass BUT (always a catch) she absolutely had to buy tires right away. She came home and started to look for cheap tires on the internet. I said that was not going to work, as you cannot just have tires delivered from Amazon. They have to be put on, balanced etc. and that she was looking at a minimum of $400.
Tears ensued. "I hate thinking about money!" "I hate that everything costs so much." Again, we talked about choices. I said that if we did not go to Florida to see the school that I could give her the money we would have used for the trip and she could put tires on or she could not get tires and have the money in her account for other things she wanted but not have a car to drive. We talked through her tears about what going to UNH would mean in terms of finances (more choices, no debt) and what it would mean to go to a smaller, private liberal arts school (fewer choices and less discretionary money for travel programs). She had envisioned herself at a "good school", a "mini-Ivy" of some sort and looking at the school she was never going to go to was a struggle.
She likes the options at UNH, she liked what she saw of her program, she loves the travel possibilities. She asked "You won't just come and visit me, will you?" And I assured her that I would only visit if I called first and asked if I could take her to dinner. (I am not likely to drive the hour and a half just on a whim) She wants the "away" experience, even if she is still in our home state.
In the end, she said, "I'll go to UNH." There was some resignation and reluctance. There was a hint of relief. As the week has gone by, I think there might even be some excitement creeping in. I sent the check. She will send in her dorm request and pick an orientation date. Beloved Child is going to college in the Fall and now we know where.
Her wings have a destination now, and she will be building a new nest.
She was down to 5 schools to decide from by May 1st, which is "Send in your Money Day" at all colleges. We had waited to go to this event because in truth, she did not want UNH on her list. It was a good visit. We were the only people there to visit with the professor from her major, so it was a one on one conversation about the classes, the opportunities and her interests. We had lunch in one of the dining halls, walked across the main campus where trees were starting to blossom and the grass was turning green.
We came home and she was pleased but non-committal regarding her decision. We had plans to go to Florida the next Friday to look at one more school, a very small liberal arts college on the sea coast. She wanted to see it before she could come to any final choice and then, (cue music of doom)
the car she drives needed to be inspected before it could be re-registered for another year. It is 40 dollars to have it inspected, whether or not it passes. Our deal has been that if she wanted to drive the car that inspections, registration and small repairs (the only kind worth doing on a car so old) are up to her to finance. Monday, the car went to the shop and the car guy told her that it would pass BUT (always a catch) she absolutely had to buy tires right away. She came home and started to look for cheap tires on the internet. I said that was not going to work, as you cannot just have tires delivered from Amazon. They have to be put on, balanced etc. and that she was looking at a minimum of $400.
Tears ensued. "I hate thinking about money!" "I hate that everything costs so much." Again, we talked about choices. I said that if we did not go to Florida to see the school that I could give her the money we would have used for the trip and she could put tires on or she could not get tires and have the money in her account for other things she wanted but not have a car to drive. We talked through her tears about what going to UNH would mean in terms of finances (more choices, no debt) and what it would mean to go to a smaller, private liberal arts school (fewer choices and less discretionary money for travel programs). She had envisioned herself at a "good school", a "mini-Ivy" of some sort and looking at the school she was never going to go to was a struggle.
She likes the options at UNH, she liked what she saw of her program, she loves the travel possibilities. She asked "You won't just come and visit me, will you?" And I assured her that I would only visit if I called first and asked if I could take her to dinner. (I am not likely to drive the hour and a half just on a whim) She wants the "away" experience, even if she is still in our home state.
In the end, she said, "I'll go to UNH." There was some resignation and reluctance. There was a hint of relief. As the week has gone by, I think there might even be some excitement creeping in. I sent the check. She will send in her dorm request and pick an orientation date. Beloved Child is going to college in the Fall and now we know where.
Her wings have a destination now, and she will be building a new nest.
Friday, April 5, 2013
Being Chinese on the Outside
Pretty much all of Beloved Child's life we have lived in small, rural New England towns. We had a brief sojourn to a college town in Colorado for 4 years and then back to the land of maple trees, many lakes and lots and lots of white people.
Where we live, most people have known Beloved Child since she was very small. Many people remember me bringing her home from China as a tiny infant. They have seen her grow, watched her play soccer and lacrosse, recite poetry at the elementary school talent show, sell Girl Scout cookies and now, watch her prepare to graduate from high school. She has always been one of a half dozen of non-white kids in her grade school and middle school. Beloved Child does not think much about being ethnically different from most of her peers and recently I heard one of her friends tell her , "You are really only Chinese on the outside." A comment that made me both sad and moderately outraged. I tried so hard to expose her to things Chinese and to celebrate her culture and heritage when we were able to do so. And yet, where we live, where I chose to live, has largely formed who she is and how she perceives the world.
All of this is a preface to this morning.
We attended a multi-cultural event for accepted students at one of the colleges on her list. Upon arrival at the check in she was stunned. All of the kids were non-white. They were African-American, Hispanic, Latin American, Middle Eastern, African and there was one other Asian girl. Beloved Child KNEW that this was for students identifying as "multi-cultural" but it had not really sunk in until she saw the group. "Mom, this is weird!", she whispered. "I don't like being pigeon holed into a group" "I like just blending in." I gently challenged her on what sounded like racism..."Wow, buddy, you might want to give this a chance." Inside I cringed. Did I set her up to be ignorant? A racist? Ashamed of her ethnicity? Did by choosing to live in a rural and very white state I deny her the chance to know and interact with a global and diverse population?
My head is spinning.
Clearly there is nothing I can do about this today. Not now. We have traveled, in the U.S and outside of it. Our friends and family are representative of nations and cultures and orientations that are a pretty mixed bag and yet, I am tonight feeling ashamed that I did not do more. Saddened that her sense of self doesn't seem to celebrate the part of her that is unique. I am thinking of you who have very small children and who will face some of these issues as they grow and I am wondering, what will you do differently?
Where we live, most people have known Beloved Child since she was very small. Many people remember me bringing her home from China as a tiny infant. They have seen her grow, watched her play soccer and lacrosse, recite poetry at the elementary school talent show, sell Girl Scout cookies and now, watch her prepare to graduate from high school. She has always been one of a half dozen of non-white kids in her grade school and middle school. Beloved Child does not think much about being ethnically different from most of her peers and recently I heard one of her friends tell her , "You are really only Chinese on the outside." A comment that made me both sad and moderately outraged. I tried so hard to expose her to things Chinese and to celebrate her culture and heritage when we were able to do so. And yet, where we live, where I chose to live, has largely formed who she is and how she perceives the world.
All of this is a preface to this morning.
We attended a multi-cultural event for accepted students at one of the colleges on her list. Upon arrival at the check in she was stunned. All of the kids were non-white. They were African-American, Hispanic, Latin American, Middle Eastern, African and there was one other Asian girl. Beloved Child KNEW that this was for students identifying as "multi-cultural" but it had not really sunk in until she saw the group. "Mom, this is weird!", she whispered. "I don't like being pigeon holed into a group" "I like just blending in." I gently challenged her on what sounded like racism..."Wow, buddy, you might want to give this a chance." Inside I cringed. Did I set her up to be ignorant? A racist? Ashamed of her ethnicity? Did by choosing to live in a rural and very white state I deny her the chance to know and interact with a global and diverse population?
My head is spinning.
Clearly there is nothing I can do about this today. Not now. We have traveled, in the U.S and outside of it. Our friends and family are representative of nations and cultures and orientations that are a pretty mixed bag and yet, I am tonight feeling ashamed that I did not do more. Saddened that her sense of self doesn't seem to celebrate the part of her that is unique. I am thinking of you who have very small children and who will face some of these issues as they grow and I am wondering, what will you do differently?
Monday, March 25, 2013
Reality and Choices
Beloved Child is in the final month of deciding about colleges. Over the weekend she heard from 3 more schools, two put her on the wait list and one out right said she was not admitted. I did not realize how much of my own ego was invested in her getting in, not because I want her to go to any one particular school, but because, who on earth would reject my smart, wonderful child? She got into 5 schools, 4 of which she is not truly interested in, which leaves her feeling as though she really has only one choice and the wait list schools.
In truth, I think the one school that admitted her and that she would consider going to is the right school. It has the programs, extra-curriculars and travel opportunities that she wants, it is not overly far from home, but certainly far enough, and has economic diversity as well as a large enough student body to have other kinds of diversity as well.
And in the midst of this, I try to not put MY hopes, fears and choices in her face. I ask, nicely, "how are you feeling about all of this?" "What do you think/feel about your choices?" and she says, "Mom, asking how I am feeling is just making me feel worse. Stop it. " Okay. Well. Um. So, I have to shut up, for now, and wait to be asked for an opinion, and be silently supportive somehow. Ice cream?
We went to Florida last week for 3 days. It was great. We walked on the beach, ate (outside!!), shopped and talked. I am cherishing these opportunities to be close before she leaves in the Fall. Tomorrow is back to school, the last term. Graduation is 2 months away. Silent support, lots of love and opinions when asked. This is my life today, right now.
In truth, I think the one school that admitted her and that she would consider going to is the right school. It has the programs, extra-curriculars and travel opportunities that she wants, it is not overly far from home, but certainly far enough, and has economic diversity as well as a large enough student body to have other kinds of diversity as well.
And in the midst of this, I try to not put MY hopes, fears and choices in her face. I ask, nicely, "how are you feeling about all of this?" "What do you think/feel about your choices?" and she says, "Mom, asking how I am feeling is just making me feel worse. Stop it. " Okay. Well. Um. So, I have to shut up, for now, and wait to be asked for an opinion, and be silently supportive somehow. Ice cream?
We went to Florida last week for 3 days. It was great. We walked on the beach, ate (outside!!), shopped and talked. I am cherishing these opportunities to be close before she leaves in the Fall. Tomorrow is back to school, the last term. Graduation is 2 months away. Silent support, lots of love and opinions when asked. This is my life today, right now.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Sunday Night before Finals
It has been a couple of trying weeks since I last wrote. Beloved Child does not like Winter term and has been in survival mode of late. "Not fair." and "So tired" have been her litany, and then something turned around and she has been happier. Was it the special light we bought for her room (full spectrum bulbs)? Was it seeing vacation creeping closer? Perhaps it was the positive comments from teachers? It doesn't really matter why things improved, just that they did and we all can rejoice.
Last night Beloved Child offered to make dinner. Her Spain trip introduced her to tapas and she received a tapas cookbook for Christmas, so last night, stuffed mushrooms! She was so proud and excited to offer us something she actually used a recipe to make. (For those of you who are wondering why it has taken her so long, keep wondering!) 3/4 cup of butter, 4 cloves of garlic, a small amount of sherry and 12 regular/largish but not huge mushroom caps and bread crumbs. Subtly garlicky it was not!! She made pasta as a second course and sliced strawberries for the dessert. Over and over she asked "Is it okay? Do you like it? Aren't they great?" I am still smiling. I forget that she can still be as enthusiastic as a little girl sometimes and I love this aspect of her.
Tonight she is studying, recording a song for French class and not panicking, even though finals are this week. I think we will all survive. There is nothing nicer than a happy baby, even when the happy one is 18. Halleluia.
P.S. She asked me to read another essay and I redeemed myself after my last horrible comments. So happy she gave me another chance. Some days life is really good.
Last night Beloved Child offered to make dinner. Her Spain trip introduced her to tapas and she received a tapas cookbook for Christmas, so last night, stuffed mushrooms! She was so proud and excited to offer us something she actually used a recipe to make. (For those of you who are wondering why it has taken her so long, keep wondering!) 3/4 cup of butter, 4 cloves of garlic, a small amount of sherry and 12 regular/largish but not huge mushroom caps and bread crumbs. Subtly garlicky it was not!! She made pasta as a second course and sliced strawberries for the dessert. Over and over she asked "Is it okay? Do you like it? Aren't they great?" I am still smiling. I forget that she can still be as enthusiastic as a little girl sometimes and I love this aspect of her.
Tonight she is studying, recording a song for French class and not panicking, even though finals are this week. I think we will all survive. There is nothing nicer than a happy baby, even when the happy one is 18. Halleluia.
P.S. She asked me to read another essay and I redeemed myself after my last horrible comments. So happy she gave me another chance. Some days life is really good.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Valentine's Eve 2013
At this moment, on Valentine's Eve, I can definitely say that Beloved Child has no idea that tomorrow is Valentine's Day. She is doing her Stats homework and still has English, Spanish French and science to finish. Tomorrow she will jet off to school, in the usually chaotic sprint to have everything in her bag and ready to go. She will have had her toast and juice and put on her makeup (new ritual of late) and said "See ya, Love ya" as her keys rattle in her hand. Later in the day she will tell me, "I meant to make a card, but I forgot (or, I was busy)". And you know what? It is really okay.
I love Valentine's Day. One of the reasons that I love it is that I feel no need to be on the receiving end of cards. If I get a card, I am happy, but I consider this, oddly enough, to be one of the great pressure-free holidays of the year. Hallmark and the flower industry do not seduce me. The diamond sellers and chocolate makers cannot guilt me into buying their wares. (Okay, maybe the chocolate makers get my cash!) I send cards because I actually enjoy making Valentines and writing letters.
Last week I wrote my holiday (read: Christmas etc.) cards and put in the note that since Valentine's Day and Chinese New Year are both this week I consider my cards to still be "of the season". I mailed them off happily, knowing that the recipients probably will not be getting a ton of mail this week so a card for whatever the occasion will be welcomed.
Tomorrow morning, Beloved Child WILL know that it is Valentine's Day because there will be strawberries and a can of spray whipped cream* at her place at the breakfast table. I will make her a construction paper heart and maybe cut her toast with heart cookie cutters. I hope she will think it is silly and cute. Next year she will be at college and I can send a care package, and that will be fun too.
Yep, I like Valentine's Day. If I get "See ya, Love ya" as she runs out the door, I'll be happy.
* Spray whipped cream is her idea of a big treat.
I love Valentine's Day. One of the reasons that I love it is that I feel no need to be on the receiving end of cards. If I get a card, I am happy, but I consider this, oddly enough, to be one of the great pressure-free holidays of the year. Hallmark and the flower industry do not seduce me. The diamond sellers and chocolate makers cannot guilt me into buying their wares. (Okay, maybe the chocolate makers get my cash!) I send cards because I actually enjoy making Valentines and writing letters.
Last week I wrote my holiday (read: Christmas etc.) cards and put in the note that since Valentine's Day and Chinese New Year are both this week I consider my cards to still be "of the season". I mailed them off happily, knowing that the recipients probably will not be getting a ton of mail this week so a card for whatever the occasion will be welcomed.
Tomorrow morning, Beloved Child WILL know that it is Valentine's Day because there will be strawberries and a can of spray whipped cream* at her place at the breakfast table. I will make her a construction paper heart and maybe cut her toast with heart cookie cutters. I hope she will think it is silly and cute. Next year she will be at college and I can send a care package, and that will be fun too.
Yep, I like Valentine's Day. If I get "See ya, Love ya" as she runs out the door, I'll be happy.
* Spray whipped cream is her idea of a big treat.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Please Don't Answer Honestly.
I screwed up big time last night. I did something that my daughter will hopefully forget but that she will likely remember for a long time. I wish I could undo it but since life doesn't have a delete button, I am just having to apologize, feel guilty and move on, eventually.
At 9:30 at night, Beloved Child came to me and said "Do you want to hear my essay?". Of course I said "yes". She began to read it to me and from the beginning I knew I was not going to love it. I tried to stay quiet and listen all the way through. It was cliche and had nothing in it that offered a window into why the reader should care about what she was saying. I pointed out a glaring error and one word that was not a word and let her finish. She asked "What do you think?" and I said (cue doomsday music) "I hate it. There is nothing in it that tells me about you or why you care about this issue." Her eyes teared up. She didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to say. I felt like garbage and realized that even when asked for my opinion, I should not give it in this context. Writing does not come easily for her. She can tell a story, but if asked to write one, she chokes. She waits until there is a deadline and leaves little time for revision. I am a jerk. She will remember this until she dies and tell her children and grandchildren what I said to her when she was 18.
I apologized verbally. I told her I love her. I wrote her a note telling her that I felt like a jerk and that I was sorry and if given another opportunity to read what she writes, I will do it differently. I shoveled her car out from the snow this morning. Neither of us mentioned the essay. She left with a half hearted "goodbye" to go to school.
My tummy hurts. My heart hurts. I screwed up. It is 7:56 a.m. and I am still feeling badly. She may forgive, but won't likely forget. Me either.
At 9:30 at night, Beloved Child came to me and said "Do you want to hear my essay?". Of course I said "yes". She began to read it to me and from the beginning I knew I was not going to love it. I tried to stay quiet and listen all the way through. It was cliche and had nothing in it that offered a window into why the reader should care about what she was saying. I pointed out a glaring error and one word that was not a word and let her finish. She asked "What do you think?" and I said (cue doomsday music) "I hate it. There is nothing in it that tells me about you or why you care about this issue." Her eyes teared up. She didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to say. I felt like garbage and realized that even when asked for my opinion, I should not give it in this context. Writing does not come easily for her. She can tell a story, but if asked to write one, she chokes. She waits until there is a deadline and leaves little time for revision. I am a jerk. She will remember this until she dies and tell her children and grandchildren what I said to her when she was 18.
I apologized verbally. I told her I love her. I wrote her a note telling her that I felt like a jerk and that I was sorry and if given another opportunity to read what she writes, I will do it differently. I shoveled her car out from the snow this morning. Neither of us mentioned the essay. She left with a half hearted "goodbye" to go to school.
My tummy hurts. My heart hurts. I screwed up. It is 7:56 a.m. and I am still feeling badly. She may forgive, but won't likely forget. Me either.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
A Better Day
Less whiny today.
Maybe I will sleep tonight.
A few things looking up.
Bright stars in the sky.
One of my very favorite children's books is "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, Awful, No Good and Very Bad Day" by Judith Viorst. As may be apparent from the title, Alexander, age approximately 6, is having a bad day - nothing goes his way, from not getting a prize in his breakfast cereal to having his mom buy him sneakers in a color he doesn't like. Everyone has days like Alexander. Yesterday it was me. I felt like a failure as a parent, as a daughter, as a friend and I could not get comfortable enough in my own skin to get to sleep. I wanted a re-do of my day and to be able to start over and have everything be nice and tidy.
Today, I received an email from my mother suggesting a way that Beloved Child could participate financially in her Senior Project in a meaningful way. My mom suggested that Child could contribute the equivalent of 1/2 the airplane ticket as a donation to the organization where she is doing her super cool project. This makes TONS more sense than actually paying my mother , who does not need the money. I felt much more at ease just having that as an option.
Today Beloved Child got a college acceptance in the mail. She received 2 others last Friday. She no longer has to worry (unreasonably but a natural fear) that she is a dud and that no school will accept her. She now has options and probably there will be more to come. Her mood is improved.
Today we did NOT get the 4-6 inches of snow predicted, so I did not have to deal with the non delivery of Meals on Wheels to my clients, which would have been complicated following a long weekend.
Today the sun was shining, which makes everything better. The snow sparkled.
Thank you to you readers and friends who wrote me positive notes yesterday. It helped.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Money Tree, again.
Have I said "yes" to often? Have I made life too easy? Was I not clear enough about the differences between wants and needs? Do I always have to be the mean mommy, the one who says the things you do not want to hear?
How do you teach a child what sacrifice and delayed gratification means? My Beloved Child wants to go on a Senior Project this Spring. In her case this means leaving school three weeks early, flying across the country and being able to work in a volunteer capacity at a very unique and exciting job. If life was perfect I would hand her a plane ticket and say "Have fun, Sweetie. I'll see you in three weeks". If life was easy I would never think twice about spending money on not only her needs but her wants as well. Life is not perfect.
My mother has offered to buy the tickets. I had previously spoken with my mom about why I thought Beloved Child should have the responsibility in obtaining these tickets, that Senior Project is a "want" and a "privilege" and that going on said project should be her own work. I thought I had explained, but mom and my daughter have worked it out between them, and "Gran'ma offered to buy them." I feel undermined and as though my lesson is a lost opportunity. Now I am just petty and mean. I emailed my mother and asked had she not remembered my request.
I would give my daughter everything she wants in this world and beyond, if I could and if I thought that would be good for her. I do not want her to be a privileged and spoiled brat. I want her to appreciate what she has received already and to know the satisfaction of waiting and working for something special, rather than having it plop right into her lap. I want her to understand making choices, sacrificing something for the sake of something else, or someone else. There is always going to be something new and shiny around the corner.
I have been trying to cut her a lot of slack recently - Winter term is always the hardest one for her. She is stressed with school and applications and .....the list goes on. And I wonder, have I created this dilemma? And to top it off, I really would like to take her on a special trip after graduation, but I feel like doing that on top of everything else would be too much.
I need some perspective and feedback. I need a money tree. I probably need a job that pays more than 15 dollars and hour. I may cry. I may find another answer. I may just have to be the mean mama for now. I need to raise a responsible and thankful child. I want to give her the world.
How do you teach a child what sacrifice and delayed gratification means? My Beloved Child wants to go on a Senior Project this Spring. In her case this means leaving school three weeks early, flying across the country and being able to work in a volunteer capacity at a very unique and exciting job. If life was perfect I would hand her a plane ticket and say "Have fun, Sweetie. I'll see you in three weeks". If life was easy I would never think twice about spending money on not only her needs but her wants as well. Life is not perfect.
My mother has offered to buy the tickets. I had previously spoken with my mom about why I thought Beloved Child should have the responsibility in obtaining these tickets, that Senior Project is a "want" and a "privilege" and that going on said project should be her own work. I thought I had explained, but mom and my daughter have worked it out between them, and "Gran'ma offered to buy them." I feel undermined and as though my lesson is a lost opportunity. Now I am just petty and mean. I emailed my mother and asked had she not remembered my request.
I would give my daughter everything she wants in this world and beyond, if I could and if I thought that would be good for her. I do not want her to be a privileged and spoiled brat. I want her to appreciate what she has received already and to know the satisfaction of waiting and working for something special, rather than having it plop right into her lap. I want her to understand making choices, sacrificing something for the sake of something else, or someone else. There is always going to be something new and shiny around the corner.
I have been trying to cut her a lot of slack recently - Winter term is always the hardest one for her. She is stressed with school and applications and .....the list goes on. And I wonder, have I created this dilemma? And to top it off, I really would like to take her on a special trip after graduation, but I feel like doing that on top of everything else would be too much.
I need some perspective and feedback. I need a money tree. I probably need a job that pays more than 15 dollars and hour. I may cry. I may find another answer. I may just have to be the mean mama for now. I need to raise a responsible and thankful child. I want to give her the world.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Enter 2013
This is the year Beloved Child leaves home to go to college. She turned 18. While she is still "my baby" she has the legal rights as an adult to chart her own course, choose a president, get married, pay her own bills. One she is attempting to do, one she missed by being out of the country and one she has no interest in, at this time. That just leaves paying the bills, which is still up to mama.
Applications for schools have been sent and we are waiting for fat envelopes to come in return. Summer jobs are being contemplated, what and where are TBD. Every day brings a sigh, "I can't wait to graduate and go to college." She wants an "away" job this summer, so my time with her at home is far shorter than the arrival of the next school year. I wonder, "What am I going to do when she is gone?"
I have built these 17 years on being a mama. I have chosen jobs and opportunities by how much time they give me to be at home. I have picked our homes by school district and neighborhood possibilities for a child. I have planned vacations and outings by what might interest my girl. No more will she come home for supper, or stay around on a snow day. No more trips to the library together. She took herself to her last medical check up and eye doctor appointment. It is so weird!
Never would I dream of holding her back from her hopes and dreams. Her excitement and curiosity are among her most special qualities. She dreams and dreams BIG. Travel, movement, adventure are integral to her personality. Over and over I am reminded of why I call this blog "Wearing Wings Again". No longer is she satisfied to wear fabric wings and a fairy crown. She is standing on the edge of our nest, poised to fly. One, two, three....
Tonight we played a competitive game of Boggle and then Yahtzee. She wanted to play with me.
Inside, I was grinning the whole time. I savor these moments. I revel in them. I want to hold them close and remember, when she is gone, that she is still my girl, and I am her mama. With or without wings unfurled, your mama I will always be, Beloved Child.
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