Next stop … college
Three times isn’t a charm
Three times now I’ve sent a kid off to college. Each time I’ve felt the same sort of panicky feeling inside, mixed with love and pride and amazement that I’m at this threshold. Each kid has their own path that is their life journey. As the years go by, I no longer mark their progress on a door frame with a pencil, but, instead, sit back and enjoy watching their adventures and progress through life. It’s a never-ending movie that is hard to tear my eyes from.
When I met Emma, she was just graduating from 5th grade. Full of hope and anxiety about middle school but also loving the new found freedoms that she knew were coming. My two kids were of two minds on school. Nick never could understand why he needed a planner, the value of homework, why rubrics were necessary and why he couldn’t draw while he listened in class. He forgot to hand in his homework and often would fall far enough behind that we’d have to go hit reset with his teachers. Thomas always made sure that he did things the way that they were meant to be done; he’d come home from school and open his backpack and get his homework knocked out. He hated being late or letting a teacher, or himself, down. Both of my kids had challenging high school years. It’s amazing to me how kids are so very different yet still have all the same issues to grapple with.
Emma approached high school with enthusiasm. Emma’s best friends — a crew of four inseparable young women — were dancers all through Emma’s middle school years. Emma craved a hobby or activity of her own and so we went through a long stage of Emma taking voice lessons and participating in musicals. We were amazed because as creative and funny and absurd as Emma was at home, she was also incredibly shy and anxious in the world at large. I couldn’t believe it when Emma not only signed up for musical auditions, but she followed through and did all the hard work involved in a production.
The year that Emma graduated from middle school, she created a calendar of things to do that was dizzying. None of the adults were sure how we’d get through a summer of volunteering, babysitting, auditioning, practice for shows, field hockey camp, running as well as vacationing in Rhode Island and Cape Cod. Emma had done her research on what mattered going into high school and she made sure that she sampled everything. I was amazed at Emma’s ability to find missions she truly cared about and engage in; push herself to do things that took her outside of her comfort zone; find new ways to explore the world and ways to engage. Over the four years of Emma’s time at high school she played field hockey, ran track, ran cross country, wrote for the school newspaper, wrote for the local newspaper, worked at littleBits, worked at a bakery, babysat non-stop, learned how to drive, went to Europe, wrote blogs, was in musicals, and did volunteer work.
I can’t believe the confident young woman that the timid girl that I met has grown into. Emma has such a strong set of core values, an amazing inner compass and a true curiosity about the world. She fights for what she knows is right, advocates for herself, is not afraid to explore the world and be outside of her comfort zone and is not afraid to ask for help.
Emma is not my child but she is my stepchild and I think of her as one of my kids. When I tell people I have four children, I am quick to note that two are my husband’s and two are mine. She’s been a part of my life for seven years and so much has taken place in that seven years. We’ve been best of friends and we’ve had bitter fights. We’ve been hurt and angry and we’ve been happy and at peace. More than anything, we’ve figured out how to make sure that Emma is taken care of and loved by all the adults in her life. We’ve worked hard to make sure that there are rituals and roles that are clearly for Mom and Dad. And we’ve also carved out all sorts of time together to have breakfast, drive in the car and sit on the couch and figure out thorny life issues. I’ve introduced Emma to the world of entrepreneurship, having a strong voice, knowing that women are just as important as men in the world and networking.
These past few weeks, Emma and I have spent time together making lists and knocking things off of them. Visiting Target and CVS and Amazon and Bed Bath and Beyond to make sure that Emma is all set for college. And it’s made me so proud to watch Emma take a deep breath and plunge forward knowing, just by the questions that she asks, how fragile that bravado may be.
“What’s the kitchen going to be like?”
“What will the food be like?”
“Where will I hang my robe?”
“Will I be able to put things under my bed?”
“Will there be private showers?”
“What if I don’t know anything?”
“What if everyone else is not like me?”
What if … where will … how will … I know that as much as she says out loud, there’s even more that is amplified loudly inside of her head.
I remember what it was like sending Thomas and then Nick to school and out into the world. Thomas was anxious and worried that he wasn’t ready and he didn’t make it past the first semester. He came home to visit often and just wasn’t ready. Nick went through it with jokes and laughter and even wore his big bumble bee costume to move into his room but was so nervous and unsure and homesick inside. He’d call and be sad and lonely and just not sure how he was going to keep getting up at 5:30am and dressing in his chef clothes to learn about how to be a chef. Today they are both strong young men. Thomas learning how to be a coder and teaching kids how to be makers and Nick a sous chef and bowing to the siren’s song of leadership. I remember the heartache from sending them each into the world and the countless nights of restless sleep and worry over how they were doing. And the pain and pang of the now empty spaces in our home.
I’m surprised that, the third time around, it still feels like the first time around. I have that catch in my throat when I do something with Emma that I know will be the last time before she heads to college. Or have tears well in my eyes as I think of how hard that mix of excitement and anxiety is as she waits to finally pack the car and go. The thrum and electricity of the nervous energy of not knowing what to do next because of the seemingly eternal waiting for Saturday to arrive and for the next stage of Emma’s life to be set in motion.
I’ll miss having Emma around but I categorically cannot wait to hear all of her adventures. To learn about her classes and experience how the lens her world is viewed through changes. To have her come home with new found skills and directions and ideas and thoughts. To watch her hopes and dreams take shape.
If it weren’t for change, we wouldn’t learn and grow. One of the greatest joys of raising children is the seemingly never ending opportunity to bring change into life and ride the wave to new places.
