Not Crying. Definitely Not Crying. OK, Maybe Crying A Little Bit. Alright, Fine, Dammit - Crying!

I didn’t think it would happen, but I admit it. I’m sniffling a wee little bit. Not like last year, but, yes - a tiny bit sad. My son left for college just a few moments ago and although he’s a sophomore, I still can’t help but feel my heartstrings twanging a touch. First, I’m worried about him driving. It’s six hours away through Chicago traffic. I won’t rest easy tonight until I know he’s safe and sound in college town. So, yes, a few prayers have been said. Feel free to join in.

Maybe this is just a mom thing. My husband left for work with just work on his mind. I know he shares my concern over the driving thing, but he’s at work – working – and I’m at home – blogging...and perhaps obsessing. My daughter is practically thrilled. No longer will she have to share the bathroom, the basement or the television. She gets sole possession of everything, including our attention. This, she knows, can be a mixed blessing.

But me, well I guess I’m a little peeved. I’ve put a fair amount of time into that young man and yet he always seems to be leaving. I know that it’s what I would want more than anything, but it’s a bittersweet taste of success. Here he goes into the world, being all talented and funny and charming and clever and he wants to share it with others and develop more of it. Well, hey, what about me? Share it with ME! I know, I know – I sound positively insane. I’m really much more rational than that, but I find myself wishing he’d hang around just a little bit more.

Boy, have things changed. When he was little, he was positively obsessed with me. He’d follow me around and talk and hang on me and follow me into the bathroom and talk some more. He couldn’t get enough of me and, I admit it, I sometimes felt a little bit smothered. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a little of that smothering right now.

And so, we’ll start all over and adjust from a house of four to a house of three. We’ll fix meals that he hates and watch TV that he can’t stand and do a little less laundry and have a few less lights to turn off and go to restaurants he doesn’t like and generally ease into a routine that is different. A new normal. That is until he waltzes back in here and messes everything up and leaves the lights on all the time and doesn’t pick up after himself. I can’t wait.