It's been a long time since writing...the Beloved Child has entered her Junior (!) year of college and is preparing to go to Europe for a semester abroad. She called tonight to discuss plane tickets, money and more money. Money does seem to come up in every conversation. Ugh.
She talked about also beginning to search for a Summer job (Summer '16) and said " Mom, I am NOT going to come home and work there. I would go insane if I had to work in town. I have no friends and there is nothing to do there." And with those words I realize that, she is never going to live at home again. Vacations maybe occasionally, but unless her life situation demands it, she is determined to leave this house, this town and be her own person. She will never WANT to live here again. This is not her life.
I want her to be her own person, definitely. I raised her for this independence and strength. I just want her to want to see me occasionally. Maybe, eventually, after her wings are fully spread, I'll have a place in her universe, but today, this moment, I feel the kind of abandonment that I had not anticipated. Bleakness. Tomorrow I won't feel so bleak, but tonight, even with the pinkest sky I have ever seen and a fire in the woodstove...
Yes, it is not all about me. Yes, it is also.
Sunday, November 22, 2015
Saturday, October 5, 2013
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.
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.
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.
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