October Already?

   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.