I Better Get Ready

I’m in denial. I was Swifting the floor this morning. That’s my absent minded, therapeutic way of processing thoughts that are far below the surface. It’s also a much needed chore in a house with a Shiba Inu, who’s only supposed to shed twice a year. (I think the breed book should be updated to account for global warming). 

A Monday morning is a good time to dig deep and bring up the fast approaching reality that my first born son, my middle child is leaving for college in less than two weeks. 

I was moving around the kitchen with my Swifter, my in my mind I’m stuck. He’s so ready, but he’s been so independent over the past year, that I don’t know how to help him pack up. I guess I just give him money and he’ll get his stuff. The college dorm list from Bed Bath is on the table. I scratched off the ridiculous stuff. He’s a no nonsense guy, I know he will cover the essentials and get a few things that are uniquely him. Admittedly, my denial has nothing to do with the to do side of getting him ready. 

No, I was denying something that I had learned with our recent college grad. It’s that sending a kid off to school can’t really be that easy. It was time to acknowledge that I was getting ready to have to step up my game and be ready for the challenges and experiences that will come my son’s way and randomly land on my lap. 

When your kid goes to college the patenting doesn’t end. 

That was the big nugget that came to the surface. I put the Swifter away, knowing that what I really needed to do was get out my catcher’s mitt. It’s nearly time to play ball. 


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