Yesterday we took our son to his college's Summer Advising and Enrollment day. Yes, this is really happening. It was pretty weird sitting through the sessions, remembering exactly how it felt
He, on the other hand, kept telling me to take a breath and calm down. What I thought was cheerful, fun-loving conversation, he decided was running off at the mouth. "Honey, really, you're talking 500 miles an hour. Take a breath." Yeah. Right. King Blabbermouth was trying to tell me to zip it. Where does he get off? When I appealed to Keygan for help, he just shook his head and laughed saying, "Geez, Mom."
Okay, so maybe I was a wee bit anxious about being there. Nah, had to be too much caffeine.
Throughout the day matronly control slipped from my fingers. (Who am I kidding? When was the last time I was really in control?!) I was slapped up side the head with the realization I am going to have to let the kid go. I know. I'm working on it, truly I am. And I must say the college did a good job of helping me. Obviously they've dealt with this. I'm pretty sure they designed the day to be baby steps for moms like me. We were together with our kids for the whole morning, but after lunch they took the students to register for classes AWAY from us. We got no say. I couldn't even mumble or sigh over his shoulder to direct his choices. It felt like a deliberate snip of the apron strings. And they may as well have given every afternoon speaker a megaphone to scream, "Back off, woman!"
I got the message loud and clear. I've got to let him sink or swim. Dang.
Lord, help us both!