Can this child squeeze any more partying out of summer before her college life (of partying) begins?
I think not.
Earbaby seems determined to go to any and every gathering, cookout, hangout, alleged party within the city, all the neighborhoods, and a few of the surrounding towns, before she bids farewell. I guess all that teasing from her dad about going to school with farmers has made her decide that now is the time to practice dancing until the cows come home.
EB has found the perfect job for her new lifestyle we call, what's-for-dinner-can-I-go-out-there's-a-party-at-(fillintheblank)-and-can-I-take-Steve?
Her job is as a camp counselor. The hours generously start at noon, and end at six, which gives her enough time to come home, find dinner, retire to her lair to eat it, take a shower, spend time texting with her friends for the info on who, what, when and where, take a shower, get dolled up, and get out of the house. With Steve.
Steve is what EB has named her dad's car. She informed us his full name is Steven Carmichael Jordan Mullin the 3rd, and even though he may be on his last legs -- OK tires -- he is the traveling companion who safely gets her where she wants to go. And apparently, Steve has never met a party he didn't like or couldn't finagle his way into.
When her dad and I aren't rolling our eyes at her constant search for the perfect dance venue, we're hoping she gets it all out of her system. In three weeks, we expect her to get serious and buckle down with her schoolwork (Yeah, right).
But this has been EB's summer of summers. She always liked going out with friends, especially this past year, when she found herself again and reestablished herself among the people who really care about her. But in the last couple of months there is more frenetic energy, as if she has suddenly realized that everything, and everybody, will be different later on. Even though she knows she'll undoubtedly see many, if not most of her friends over the Thanksgiving holiday, she recognizes that the distance and time will mean they won't have the same friends, classes, likes, dislikes, and general things in common any more.
I've tried to prepare her, but not in a sad way. I had two best friends through most of my formative years, especially through high school. But the three of us went our separate ways after graduation, and we actually never got together again until our 20-year reunion. One moved to California, and that was her first time back. Before there was texting, there was still constant contact. We'd check in every day on what we were wearing, what our after-school activities would be, who the crush of the day, week, month, was, whose turn it was to have drama. EB's friends check in much more, all day, and all night, sometimes. Still, it will be interesting to see how fast the drop-off will be as they all find new friends, and new dramas in new settings.
So maybe I understand that frantic need to connect with somebody every single day. She's not anticipating being lonely in school. But I'm sure she wonders if she'll feel as close to her high school compatriots when she returns. I want to reassure her that even if she doesn't, it will be all right. Life is all about the changes.
I've also noticed a bit of a push-back from growing away from us. We didn't have to push this baby bird from the nest. She has spent quite a bit of time this past year (and the previous one) poisoning it on her way out. But every once in a while the baby bird wants to creep back in. She'll ask me to do something for her she's perfectly capable of doing for herself, she'll want attention, physical affection of a back rub, or she'll nostalgically rub my ear in the way she soothed herself when she was tired or anxious as a baby. Then it was cute. But now she wears acrylic nails and being stabbed in the ear isn't the barrel of monkeys you'd think it would be.
This month has been such a contrast. EB is getting more and more excited about going away to school, and more and more anxious about going away to school. Yes, she will be thousands of miles away. But she's already worked out that she'll see us nearly every month. We will visit for Family weekend in October (I wouldn't be surprised if it's the first and last time she wants us to), she'll have more than a week home for Thanksgiving, and then there will be at least a month for Christmas. And as my husband and I talk about our spring vacation plans, she is already saying, "wait for me!"
So this summer is for eking out the last vestiges of carefree school friendships. It's for establishing oneself as a bonafide city mouse before becoming, or at least coexisting with the country mice. It's for pulling away from mom and dad, while still wanting to be their baby. Finding herself and losing herself.
She's standing on the precipice of adulthood and trying to both jump off and hang on. I feel for her. We all had to do this. So I know she'll do just fine.
Party on, Earbaby. Party on.
Showing posts with label college. Show all posts
Showing posts with label college. Show all posts
Monday, July 31, 2017
Wednesday, May 31, 2017
School's Out! ('Til college)
This is the end of an era. And it's pretty much all over until the cap and gown ceremony. And the parties that come before and after.
But suffice to say, Earbaby is more than ready to turn the page on high school. She's been at her venue for six years, starting there as a seventh grader. The school was huge then. She was coming from an almost all-white, smallish Catholic school. She stepped into so much diversity, she immediately stopped feeling like "the other." There were so many "others." There were other biracial kids, there were plenty of kids who spoke Spanish as a first language, plenty of black kids, white kids, Asian kids. Her friend circle quickly widened to a United Nations, in ethnicity, religion, and orientation. This school has served her well.
And now it's time to go. And she's ready.
EB started her countdown, probably around February, even as we were still stressing about college acceptances and where her next residence would be for the foreseeable future. But it really started in earnest around April. She only had a month and a half to go, and while we urged her not to start slacking up on her work (all college acceptances are provisional, dontcha know), there were some days of senioritis. The kid who practically had to be on her deathbed to miss school, suddenly acquired the constitution of a butterfly, and a prolonged case of the sniffles (or, I don't know, vapors?) would have her begging to stay home from school. No money on Netflix was ever so well spent.
Once we were all set with preparing for the prom (her date was a really nice and good friend, and they all had the time of their lives), she started getting ready to say goodbye. There were plenty of days she would come home and say, I am so ready to get away from these people, and many other words to that effect. Yes, she would surely miss her friends, but after so many of them flaked on her when she would try to make plans this entire school year (!), she was sarcastic when they begged her not to go so far away to school.
Oh, now you're going to miss me? she told me she would say. Yes, we both remembered the weekends she would make plans, and one by one, her friends would bail on her. One time, after she had gotten all dressed to go out, and everyone stood her up, she cried in frustration. Yes, she's ready to leave the high school drama behind, even the drama of her own making.
And she will leave with some good memories.
She's gotten closer to some acquaintances, who have now become good friends. She's regained a stronger sense of herself, something woefully missing during the lost junior year of heartache, headache, and out and out betrayal. Hard lessons learned need to remembered as she gets ready to strike out far away from parental involvement. Actions have consequences, snakes show themselves early (and often), and manipulators and controllers shouldn't ever be given the time of day.
But Earbaby is worried too. She knows she's in for a culture shock. But no matter which school she had chosen, it would have been a culture shock, whether HBCU, Midwestern or Southern. It was not going to be anything like home. While she's excited for the change, some of her teachers, well-meaning maybe, but short-sighted definitely, have warned her about going to a red state.
When I pointed out that none of these naysayers had ever been at the campus she chose, she accused me of sugar-coating my alma mater. I wish I could tell these teachers to skate in their own lane. They are contributing to the general anxiety she is starting to feel about moving away, but can't recognize it if her teachers are warning her about white supremacists, which (1) exist every where, even in the bluest of blue states, and (2) are less likely to be tolerated in a college town and on a college campus.
Incidents have been swiftly rooted out and shut down. Stupidity is embarrassing for college campuses and schools who rely on good press and alumni dollars. Racism is everywhere teachers. Stop telling my kid to be afraid. You're actually hurting her growth. You're not more concerned about her welfare than her parents. We would never send her anywhere we didn't think was safe, and you feeding her anxiety about leaving us, makes her think otherwise.
So yes, I'm ready for her to be done too. She's got a couple of weeks of inactivity, before the whirlwind of graduation, orientation, dance workshop for a full week and then a full summer of a job. She will end the roller coaster ride with her first semester in a state far, far away.
She vacillates between poisoning the nest with snarky comments and attitude, and being clingy and needy. This is her final stretch run, and I can tell she's not sure she's ready for it. It's going to be a long, complicated summer.
Sigh.
But suffice to say, Earbaby is more than ready to turn the page on high school. She's been at her venue for six years, starting there as a seventh grader. The school was huge then. She was coming from an almost all-white, smallish Catholic school. She stepped into so much diversity, she immediately stopped feeling like "the other." There were so many "others." There were other biracial kids, there were plenty of kids who spoke Spanish as a first language, plenty of black kids, white kids, Asian kids. Her friend circle quickly widened to a United Nations, in ethnicity, religion, and orientation. This school has served her well.
And now it's time to go. And she's ready.
EB started her countdown, probably around February, even as we were still stressing about college acceptances and where her next residence would be for the foreseeable future. But it really started in earnest around April. She only had a month and a half to go, and while we urged her not to start slacking up on her work (all college acceptances are provisional, dontcha know), there were some days of senioritis. The kid who practically had to be on her deathbed to miss school, suddenly acquired the constitution of a butterfly, and a prolonged case of the sniffles (or, I don't know, vapors?) would have her begging to stay home from school. No money on Netflix was ever so well spent.
Once we were all set with preparing for the prom (her date was a really nice and good friend, and they all had the time of their lives), she started getting ready to say goodbye. There were plenty of days she would come home and say, I am so ready to get away from these people, and many other words to that effect. Yes, she would surely miss her friends, but after so many of them flaked on her when she would try to make plans this entire school year (!), she was sarcastic when they begged her not to go so far away to school.
Oh, now you're going to miss me? she told me she would say. Yes, we both remembered the weekends she would make plans, and one by one, her friends would bail on her. One time, after she had gotten all dressed to go out, and everyone stood her up, she cried in frustration. Yes, she's ready to leave the high school drama behind, even the drama of her own making.
And she will leave with some good memories.
She's gotten closer to some acquaintances, who have now become good friends. She's regained a stronger sense of herself, something woefully missing during the lost junior year of heartache, headache, and out and out betrayal. Hard lessons learned need to remembered as she gets ready to strike out far away from parental involvement. Actions have consequences, snakes show themselves early (and often), and manipulators and controllers shouldn't ever be given the time of day.
But Earbaby is worried too. She knows she's in for a culture shock. But no matter which school she had chosen, it would have been a culture shock, whether HBCU, Midwestern or Southern. It was not going to be anything like home. While she's excited for the change, some of her teachers, well-meaning maybe, but short-sighted definitely, have warned her about going to a red state.
When I pointed out that none of these naysayers had ever been at the campus she chose, she accused me of sugar-coating my alma mater. I wish I could tell these teachers to skate in their own lane. They are contributing to the general anxiety she is starting to feel about moving away, but can't recognize it if her teachers are warning her about white supremacists, which (1) exist every where, even in the bluest of blue states, and (2) are less likely to be tolerated in a college town and on a college campus.
Incidents have been swiftly rooted out and shut down. Stupidity is embarrassing for college campuses and schools who rely on good press and alumni dollars. Racism is everywhere teachers. Stop telling my kid to be afraid. You're actually hurting her growth. You're not more concerned about her welfare than her parents. We would never send her anywhere we didn't think was safe, and you feeding her anxiety about leaving us, makes her think otherwise.
So yes, I'm ready for her to be done too. She's got a couple of weeks of inactivity, before the whirlwind of graduation, orientation, dance workshop for a full week and then a full summer of a job. She will end the roller coaster ride with her first semester in a state far, far away.
She vacillates between poisoning the nest with snarky comments and attitude, and being clingy and needy. This is her final stretch run, and I can tell she's not sure she's ready for it. It's going to be a long, complicated summer.
Sigh.
Friday, March 31, 2017
Wildcats or Tigers or Bears? Oh my!
We're roughly a month from Decision Day. And Earbaby is going to visit three more places before coming to terms with being a Kansas State Wildcat, a Tiger from Louisiana State, or a Morgan State Bear. Or, to make it even tougher, another acceptance packet means she could also choose to become a Black Panther from Clark University in Atlanta. Oh my, indeed.
EB went from relaxing after her first, early acceptance to K-State (at least now I know I'm going to college) to bemoaning the fact that she only had the one choice after a couple of rejections from places she actually hadn't planned on going anyway, to anxiety about having more choices after all. She hasn't heard from her first choice, which only recently became her first choice. And she's already soured on it anyway, having read a few negative reviews on the facilities at this "prestigious" HBCU. Not to say she won't reconsider it should she wake up to a yay instead of the expected nay tomorrow. The school was put into her head by a casual acquaintance who said she looked like she would be a good fit. She started to fixate on it, then became depressed when she hadn't heard from them, even though she was told they make their decisions on April 1. No matter. Our trip is booked, and should she get in, it's an easy detour.
In the meantime, she's taking note of who is wooing her, and how much. K-State has already offered her money. She will have to lobby to get anything from the other three candidates. She vacillates between wanting to get out of her comfort zone of city folks and ways and visit the country mice for four years, and worrying that she will be bored within a month in the country/college town and would find a southern city more to her liking. It's a tough choice, and no matter how many times I've told her that she doesn't have to stay a full four years to a place she doesn't like, she thinks transferring would mean she's wasted time and money. And she will have made bonds and established friendships that freshman year.
I don't know how to help her. She has been heavily wooed by my alma mater, which is also the farthest away. The closest one, in Baltimore, is still a nine-hour drive, and we are planning a day trip to check out their campus and see what they have to offer. I'm listening to her weigh pros and cons of each of these schools, but I know her decision will ultimately be her own. Still, she knows some of it will come down to dollars and cents. Most of the school tuitions are $40,000 a year. While it is doable, it wouldn't leave her much money for grad school, should she find herself needing even higher education. And that doesn't count unforeseen expenses or trips home for the holidays.
I am proud that she has decided to take her teachers' advice and continue to buckle down on schoolwork. All college acceptances are provisional. I told her the horror story a close friend shared with me of her nephew who slacked off after getting accepted, didn't graduate because of it, and found himself without a college to go to. The teachers have told these kids that they must continue to work for the rest of their shortened senior year. Senior-itis is a thing, but it's not a good thing.
EB's dad and I are also going through an adjustment period. We're readying ourselves for the empty nest. With my return to the workforce (nights again, no less), it will be interesting to see how we navigate the ships passing in the night routine we had for most of our marriage. Luckily my nights aren't as late, and I can work from home a few nights a week. But what worked for us because of childcare may play differently when there is no longer a child in the house. He's already getting nostalgic and a little melancholy. I don't know what I am.
When I left my job in 2015, the hardest part was the loss of identity. I had been in newspapers in one form or another since I was 15. Who was I if I couldn't say what I did for a living? When I got another job after a year off, it was like returning to myself. I was a person again, I did something with myself.
But now I'm losing another identity. Yes, I will always be a mother, but now I'm a parent to an adult (well, legally, anyway). When she goes away, my day-to-day work is over. I will go days without talking to her, months without seeing her. She will be making her own decisions. And the first one has to be just where she will continue to grow and learn. Take a deep breath Earbaby, it's almost time to hit the yellow brick road.
EB went from relaxing after her first, early acceptance to K-State (at least now I know I'm going to college) to bemoaning the fact that she only had the one choice after a couple of rejections from places she actually hadn't planned on going anyway, to anxiety about having more choices after all. She hasn't heard from her first choice, which only recently became her first choice. And she's already soured on it anyway, having read a few negative reviews on the facilities at this "prestigious" HBCU. Not to say she won't reconsider it should she wake up to a yay instead of the expected nay tomorrow. The school was put into her head by a casual acquaintance who said she looked like she would be a good fit. She started to fixate on it, then became depressed when she hadn't heard from them, even though she was told they make their decisions on April 1. No matter. Our trip is booked, and should she get in, it's an easy detour.
In the meantime, she's taking note of who is wooing her, and how much. K-State has already offered her money. She will have to lobby to get anything from the other three candidates. She vacillates between wanting to get out of her comfort zone of city folks and ways and visit the country mice for four years, and worrying that she will be bored within a month in the country/college town and would find a southern city more to her liking. It's a tough choice, and no matter how many times I've told her that she doesn't have to stay a full four years to a place she doesn't like, she thinks transferring would mean she's wasted time and money. And she will have made bonds and established friendships that freshman year.
I don't know how to help her. She has been heavily wooed by my alma mater, which is also the farthest away. The closest one, in Baltimore, is still a nine-hour drive, and we are planning a day trip to check out their campus and see what they have to offer. I'm listening to her weigh pros and cons of each of these schools, but I know her decision will ultimately be her own. Still, she knows some of it will come down to dollars and cents. Most of the school tuitions are $40,000 a year. While it is doable, it wouldn't leave her much money for grad school, should she find herself needing even higher education. And that doesn't count unforeseen expenses or trips home for the holidays.
I am proud that she has decided to take her teachers' advice and continue to buckle down on schoolwork. All college acceptances are provisional. I told her the horror story a close friend shared with me of her nephew who slacked off after getting accepted, didn't graduate because of it, and found himself without a college to go to. The teachers have told these kids that they must continue to work for the rest of their shortened senior year. Senior-itis is a thing, but it's not a good thing.
EB's dad and I are also going through an adjustment period. We're readying ourselves for the empty nest. With my return to the workforce (nights again, no less), it will be interesting to see how we navigate the ships passing in the night routine we had for most of our marriage. Luckily my nights aren't as late, and I can work from home a few nights a week. But what worked for us because of childcare may play differently when there is no longer a child in the house. He's already getting nostalgic and a little melancholy. I don't know what I am.
When I left my job in 2015, the hardest part was the loss of identity. I had been in newspapers in one form or another since I was 15. Who was I if I couldn't say what I did for a living? When I got another job after a year off, it was like returning to myself. I was a person again, I did something with myself.
But now I'm losing another identity. Yes, I will always be a mother, but now I'm a parent to an adult (well, legally, anyway). When she goes away, my day-to-day work is over. I will go days without talking to her, months without seeing her. She will be making her own decisions. And the first one has to be just where she will continue to grow and learn. Take a deep breath Earbaby, it's almost time to hit the yellow brick road.
Saturday, December 31, 2016
Goodbye 2016! (And good riddance!)
I will never be so happy to put a period on a year as I am this one.
As I await the final hours of 2016, it is taking all I have to try and focus on the good things that came out of this year with Earbaby. There was plenty of anger and disappointment in some of her behavior and choices, and no vindication by her regrets and remorse. Still, there were some good things too. And as we enter the last five months of her high school years, I'm hoping the hardest lessons learned won't be forgotten.
The good things though: A year ago I had ended my job after 27 years and was looking forward with trepidation and sadness about what would come next in my personal next chapter. I had at this point, about 10 months fully paid, to decide when I would return to work. I had given up my career, and a big part of my identity. We got to travel to Ireland and Scotland as a family, a major positive. For the first time my husband and I could go out to a movie, or a football game, or just to dinner without having to plan three or four weeks in advance. The freedom was wonderful, having it fully financed helped. But I won't lie, I missed my friends at work, I missed having a purpose, and I refused to celebrate "retirement." I wasn't ready to stop working forever.
But this also gave me an opportunity to fly home for Mother's Day and my own mother's 93rd birthday. Had I been working, I would have had to arrange things so that I didn't miss too many days at work, especially had they stuck to the new schedule I had been given of having to work all weekend. When your schedule is your own, you can get the best fares for the best price, come home rested and not worry you have to drop your bags and rush off to work. You can take your dog for evening walks, go to the YMCA to work out, arrange to take yourself out to breakfast, and dance a few mornings a week without being exhausted from a late night shift. And yet, there was also that underlying anxiety of "am I ever going to work again?"
Earbaby also had a tough year. Her first boyfriend experience ended up more toxic and sour and regrettable than any of us would have imagined. She became a person she didn't want to be (but truthfully, some of her actions started before the boyfriend came into her life), decided to take advice and guidance from friends even less mature than herself, and blew up her family because she rationalized that she was "in love." They no longer speak, and if there is any good that comes from this, it will be the lesson learned that you don't lose yourself in another person, especially one who is emotionally unstable, manipulative and abusive. I hope with all my heart that this year of hard lessons will never be unlearned. I pray she will now recognize the red flags of bad and controlling people, something some of us didn't learn until we were many, many years older. She has listened finally to my advice about being with people who make you want to be your best self --not your worst. I pray she remembers that lesson when she gets to college. There could be even more snakes and sharks out there. Having dealt with one, I hope she will immediately see the signs and walk away.
The recovery from all this has been a reintroduction to just being a teenager in high school. Her friends are back, she has a social life of more than one person now, she is working to regain the trust that was lost during the lying, secrecy, sneaking around phase of her life, and she's trying to enjoy the rest of her senior year. She's also trying to narrow down the choices she has to go to college. My alma mater has not only accepted her, but has volunteered to throw a ton of money her way. That's tempting, and she liked it, but she still has a few more irons in the fire and is waiting to see if she gets in somewhere else. It's still has to be her college experience, and I've told her that she only has to take one step at a time. If she picks some place and it turns out not to be a good fit, well, she doesn't have to suffer through it for four years. That sounds scandalous, but in today's world, no one should expect to make decisions on the rest of her life at the age of 18. But that first acceptance letter assures her (and us) that she is college bound.
EB getting her driver's license has also been a huge highlight. She is confident and careful and driving herself places frees me up. She hasn't asked us to buy her a car, or even to take over her dad's. She is practical -- she will be going away to school in about eight months, and no college encourages freshmen to bring their cars. Plus, she will be going several states away, no matter where she lands, and that complicates things on many levels. Right now she's just content to take it when she can and has even been able to take one car or another to school. The downside is that she can't drive any of her friends for the first six months. But that can be an upside too. Fewer people mean fewer distractions.
This election year has been the biggest disappointment in the year I would love to be able to take back. The hatred and bigotry exposed in the presidential election has left many of us in despair. I even encouraged EB to apply for college in Canada and Ireland. She may not go either place if she gets in, but in a country that is increasingly hostile to anyone who isn't a straight white person, especially white male, it's difficult not to believe that all hope is lost and too many of our fellow citizens are devoid of common decency.
Still, I'm trying to end this year on a positive note. I've got a new job, new purpose and a new lease on my career. I am looking at my new challenges as a chance to make a difference at a smaller venue. I'm in a place where I'm respected for my knowledge and experience and I'm feeling that sense of purpose that I haven't felt for many years. With the added benefit of setting my hours so I may occasionally work from home, it's easier to go back to the night work I didn't want. The nights aren't as long, and the anxiety level isn't as high, and yet, I feel like my work matters.
This Christmas season also made the year end on a high note. I went home for the first time in decades. This time of year had stopped being as much fun, obviously as EB grew up and stopped believing in the magic of Santa Claus. But it also stopped being fun when we stopped hosting. So this year, with one of my nieces giving birth to the first of the next generation and Zoe in from South Korea for a few weeks, we decided this was the year to go. Also, I had a milestone birthday and my husband arranged a great family party at a restaurant to celebrate. It was a Christmas to remember, and despite the stress of travel, well worth the trip.
This year has had a lion's share of low valleys with those high peaks. Sometimes those lows made me forget about the peaks. I was distressed for so much of it, but things are looking up. Finally. We've got one more bumpy year to go with Earbaby. It won't be smooth sailing. This year didn't kill any of us. It only made us (and especially her) stronger. And so it begins again.
Hold onto your hats. And Happy New Year.
As I await the final hours of 2016, it is taking all I have to try and focus on the good things that came out of this year with Earbaby. There was plenty of anger and disappointment in some of her behavior and choices, and no vindication by her regrets and remorse. Still, there were some good things too. And as we enter the last five months of her high school years, I'm hoping the hardest lessons learned won't be forgotten.
The good things though: A year ago I had ended my job after 27 years and was looking forward with trepidation and sadness about what would come next in my personal next chapter. I had at this point, about 10 months fully paid, to decide when I would return to work. I had given up my career, and a big part of my identity. We got to travel to Ireland and Scotland as a family, a major positive. For the first time my husband and I could go out to a movie, or a football game, or just to dinner without having to plan three or four weeks in advance. The freedom was wonderful, having it fully financed helped. But I won't lie, I missed my friends at work, I missed having a purpose, and I refused to celebrate "retirement." I wasn't ready to stop working forever.
But this also gave me an opportunity to fly home for Mother's Day and my own mother's 93rd birthday. Had I been working, I would have had to arrange things so that I didn't miss too many days at work, especially had they stuck to the new schedule I had been given of having to work all weekend. When your schedule is your own, you can get the best fares for the best price, come home rested and not worry you have to drop your bags and rush off to work. You can take your dog for evening walks, go to the YMCA to work out, arrange to take yourself out to breakfast, and dance a few mornings a week without being exhausted from a late night shift. And yet, there was also that underlying anxiety of "am I ever going to work again?"
Earbaby also had a tough year. Her first boyfriend experience ended up more toxic and sour and regrettable than any of us would have imagined. She became a person she didn't want to be (but truthfully, some of her actions started before the boyfriend came into her life), decided to take advice and guidance from friends even less mature than herself, and blew up her family because she rationalized that she was "in love." They no longer speak, and if there is any good that comes from this, it will be the lesson learned that you don't lose yourself in another person, especially one who is emotionally unstable, manipulative and abusive. I hope with all my heart that this year of hard lessons will never be unlearned. I pray she will now recognize the red flags of bad and controlling people, something some of us didn't learn until we were many, many years older. She has listened finally to my advice about being with people who make you want to be your best self --not your worst. I pray she remembers that lesson when she gets to college. There could be even more snakes and sharks out there. Having dealt with one, I hope she will immediately see the signs and walk away.
The recovery from all this has been a reintroduction to just being a teenager in high school. Her friends are back, she has a social life of more than one person now, she is working to regain the trust that was lost during the lying, secrecy, sneaking around phase of her life, and she's trying to enjoy the rest of her senior year. She's also trying to narrow down the choices she has to go to college. My alma mater has not only accepted her, but has volunteered to throw a ton of money her way. That's tempting, and she liked it, but she still has a few more irons in the fire and is waiting to see if she gets in somewhere else. It's still has to be her college experience, and I've told her that she only has to take one step at a time. If she picks some place and it turns out not to be a good fit, well, she doesn't have to suffer through it for four years. That sounds scandalous, but in today's world, no one should expect to make decisions on the rest of her life at the age of 18. But that first acceptance letter assures her (and us) that she is college bound.
EB getting her driver's license has also been a huge highlight. She is confident and careful and driving herself places frees me up. She hasn't asked us to buy her a car, or even to take over her dad's. She is practical -- she will be going away to school in about eight months, and no college encourages freshmen to bring their cars. Plus, she will be going several states away, no matter where she lands, and that complicates things on many levels. Right now she's just content to take it when she can and has even been able to take one car or another to school. The downside is that she can't drive any of her friends for the first six months. But that can be an upside too. Fewer people mean fewer distractions.
This election year has been the biggest disappointment in the year I would love to be able to take back. The hatred and bigotry exposed in the presidential election has left many of us in despair. I even encouraged EB to apply for college in Canada and Ireland. She may not go either place if she gets in, but in a country that is increasingly hostile to anyone who isn't a straight white person, especially white male, it's difficult not to believe that all hope is lost and too many of our fellow citizens are devoid of common decency.
Still, I'm trying to end this year on a positive note. I've got a new job, new purpose and a new lease on my career. I am looking at my new challenges as a chance to make a difference at a smaller venue. I'm in a place where I'm respected for my knowledge and experience and I'm feeling that sense of purpose that I haven't felt for many years. With the added benefit of setting my hours so I may occasionally work from home, it's easier to go back to the night work I didn't want. The nights aren't as long, and the anxiety level isn't as high, and yet, I feel like my work matters.
This Christmas season also made the year end on a high note. I went home for the first time in decades. This time of year had stopped being as much fun, obviously as EB grew up and stopped believing in the magic of Santa Claus. But it also stopped being fun when we stopped hosting. So this year, with one of my nieces giving birth to the first of the next generation and Zoe in from South Korea for a few weeks, we decided this was the year to go. Also, I had a milestone birthday and my husband arranged a great family party at a restaurant to celebrate. It was a Christmas to remember, and despite the stress of travel, well worth the trip.
This year has had a lion's share of low valleys with those high peaks. Sometimes those lows made me forget about the peaks. I was distressed for so much of it, but things are looking up. Finally. We've got one more bumpy year to go with Earbaby. It won't be smooth sailing. This year didn't kill any of us. It only made us (and especially her) stronger. And so it begins again.
Hold onto your hats. And Happy New Year.
Monday, October 31, 2016
The scariest season
So we're putting a period on another month. Without a doubt October is a time where we bump into ghosts, ghouls, creatures of the night -- and the scariest part for a student in her senior year -- the college application process.
Earbaby is ready to begin the last leg of her journey of separation from the home, friends, family and community she has known her entire life.
The process won't be easy.
The first part of the separation was the breakup between EB and her ICB. It was destined to be a heartbreaker. First loves, with their too-hot, all-encompassing intensity, always are. But this one got ugly. ICB, who wanted to hold onto EB's every waking hour, even though he was two hours away in college, became too much of a burden on her sanity, her freedom, and her wellbeing. By the time it was all over ICB had become incredibly sinister, threatening, mean, and we actually thought the authorities would have to get involved. That nuclear option so far hasn't been needed, but EB was scarred and scared by the hard lessons she had to learn.
Luckily that was offset by the reintroduction to her own school friends, ones who had disappeared during the summer of needless isolation and bad choices. Going back to school was the best remedy for a broken heart. Realizing that all the people who have betrayed her in the previous year, not only ICB, but Brenda and Maria as well, made her question her own generosity and compassion. Getting back to the people who have always loved her, helps restore her faith and confidence.
It's difficult when an only child tries to share the good fortune she was born into. She shared her home, her life and her heart with people who didn't deserve it and aren't worthy. Once again, I don't want her to grow up thinking no good deed goes unpunished, so giving to others is permanently off the table. We are helping her pick up the pieces after a long broken year. She will live, love and laugh fully again. I just hope she will be more discriminating with the next person, or people she gives her heart to. I have to teach her the red flags she refused to see and let her know that walking out of bad situations is always an option.
But the uncoupling was only part of the scary season. Another part was figuring out just what EB is looking for as a college experience. We took a trip to the Midwest to visit my alma mater over the Columbus holiday weekend, and the trip came out better than expected. My old college is a Div. 1 school in a country town that is all university, all the time. A football game in a stadium of 55,000 people, a marching band of a few hundred, a goofy fight song or two, and EB, if not completely sold on being a legacy, is at least applying as one of her "safety schools." Odder still, her dad, who is quite the East Coast snob in his own way (Don't go there, you'll become a farmer, he used to say to EB), actually came away much more impressed with the school than he would have thought. One day he took a lone drive out to the prairie and was charmed by all the acres and miles of nothingness. He's a city kid who grew up with people living on top of each other.
EB acknowledges that my state U is out of her comfort zone, but is also considering that she may need to get out of her comfort zone in order to grow. She's also considering historically black colleges and universities, a school in San Francisco and yet another in Montreal. The sky's the limit, even if the money's not.
Some of her reach schools have tuition upwards of $60,000 a year. And even though we've been diligent about saving for her college fund, that's out of our reach without financial aid. And the price of doing well with two full professional salaries last year means there may be few, if any need-based scholarships or grants available. Although since we live in such an expensive state, EB could actually pay less to go out of state, even with the added cost, than she might at some of the state schools here.
In the meantime, as we try to work our way through this baffling college process, we have her school advisor and counselor trying to convince her to apply to state schools. They would like these kids to apply to 10. With the applications costing an average of $40 a pop, that's $400, much of it wasted on schools where she has no desire or intention of going. And there would be no fee waiver for us. So I told her to hold off on applying to some of these nonstarters. See where you get in first. If you find you haven't gotten accepted at a school you could see yourself at, then apply to a state safety school with an eye toward transferring after a year. It's difficult and frustrating trying to help your child figure out what her needs are when counselors are only looking at what their experiences have been, and guiding her through the lenses of their choices.
It's all scary. EB is still dancing several days a week, cheering several days a week, babysitting as a regular gig and juggling two Advanced Placement classes and one advanced math class. Oh yes, and trying to enjoy this, her last year at the school she came into at the age of 12. She goes full out almost every single day.
This scary month is over. But the chills, thrills, and spills may have just begun.
Trick or treat.
Earbaby is ready to begin the last leg of her journey of separation from the home, friends, family and community she has known her entire life.
The process won't be easy.
The first part of the separation was the breakup between EB and her ICB. It was destined to be a heartbreaker. First loves, with their too-hot, all-encompassing intensity, always are. But this one got ugly. ICB, who wanted to hold onto EB's every waking hour, even though he was two hours away in college, became too much of a burden on her sanity, her freedom, and her wellbeing. By the time it was all over ICB had become incredibly sinister, threatening, mean, and we actually thought the authorities would have to get involved. That nuclear option so far hasn't been needed, but EB was scarred and scared by the hard lessons she had to learn.
Luckily that was offset by the reintroduction to her own school friends, ones who had disappeared during the summer of needless isolation and bad choices. Going back to school was the best remedy for a broken heart. Realizing that all the people who have betrayed her in the previous year, not only ICB, but Brenda and Maria as well, made her question her own generosity and compassion. Getting back to the people who have always loved her, helps restore her faith and confidence.
It's difficult when an only child tries to share the good fortune she was born into. She shared her home, her life and her heart with people who didn't deserve it and aren't worthy. Once again, I don't want her to grow up thinking no good deed goes unpunished, so giving to others is permanently off the table. We are helping her pick up the pieces after a long broken year. She will live, love and laugh fully again. I just hope she will be more discriminating with the next person, or people she gives her heart to. I have to teach her the red flags she refused to see and let her know that walking out of bad situations is always an option.
But the uncoupling was only part of the scary season. Another part was figuring out just what EB is looking for as a college experience. We took a trip to the Midwest to visit my alma mater over the Columbus holiday weekend, and the trip came out better than expected. My old college is a Div. 1 school in a country town that is all university, all the time. A football game in a stadium of 55,000 people, a marching band of a few hundred, a goofy fight song or two, and EB, if not completely sold on being a legacy, is at least applying as one of her "safety schools." Odder still, her dad, who is quite the East Coast snob in his own way (Don't go there, you'll become a farmer, he used to say to EB), actually came away much more impressed with the school than he would have thought. One day he took a lone drive out to the prairie and was charmed by all the acres and miles of nothingness. He's a city kid who grew up with people living on top of each other.
EB acknowledges that my state U is out of her comfort zone, but is also considering that she may need to get out of her comfort zone in order to grow. She's also considering historically black colleges and universities, a school in San Francisco and yet another in Montreal. The sky's the limit, even if the money's not.
Some of her reach schools have tuition upwards of $60,000 a year. And even though we've been diligent about saving for her college fund, that's out of our reach without financial aid. And the price of doing well with two full professional salaries last year means there may be few, if any need-based scholarships or grants available. Although since we live in such an expensive state, EB could actually pay less to go out of state, even with the added cost, than she might at some of the state schools here.
In the meantime, as we try to work our way through this baffling college process, we have her school advisor and counselor trying to convince her to apply to state schools. They would like these kids to apply to 10. With the applications costing an average of $40 a pop, that's $400, much of it wasted on schools where she has no desire or intention of going. And there would be no fee waiver for us. So I told her to hold off on applying to some of these nonstarters. See where you get in first. If you find you haven't gotten accepted at a school you could see yourself at, then apply to a state safety school with an eye toward transferring after a year. It's difficult and frustrating trying to help your child figure out what her needs are when counselors are only looking at what their experiences have been, and guiding her through the lenses of their choices.
It's all scary. EB is still dancing several days a week, cheering several days a week, babysitting as a regular gig and juggling two Advanced Placement classes and one advanced math class. Oh yes, and trying to enjoy this, her last year at the school she came into at the age of 12. She goes full out almost every single day.
This scary month is over. But the chills, thrills, and spills may have just begun.
Trick or treat.
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