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I couldn’t wait for my daughter to go back to school. Yep, I said it! There it is. I don’t even feel bad about it.
Rewind three weeks…I came home from work and her car was parked in the middle of the driveway. Being unable to pull into the garage or the driveway, I parked in the street. How many times have I asked her not to do this?? Inside I found her breakfast dishes in the sink. Yelled up to her to complain about the car and her dishes – no answer. Peeked in her room but she was sleeping. Did I mention it was four o’clock? Growled to myself, “Can’t wait for her to go back to school!” I tiptoed out being careful not to disturb her mid-afternoon nap while simultaneously and gracefully avoiding the obstacles that littered her floor. What color was her carpet? I can’t remember.
I took my shoes off and put them away in the closet – you know, where shoes go, and grabbed my full hamper. On the way to the laundry room I tripped over her shoes haphazardly left in the middle of the family room but managed to regain my balance without falling. No surprise, I found a load of her laundry already done and sitting in the machine blocking me from my task. Not wanting to wait for her to wake up to take care of it, I gathered it up to put in the dryer – where, no surprise again, I found a second load of hers dry and ready to be folded. I shoved it all in the empty basket and swore not to fold it – no matter how long it sat there. Growled to myself, “Can’t wait for her to go back to school.”
That night, I made a really nice dinner. My husband told me he’d be home by six and I was looking forward to the family eating dinner together. My husband walked through the door right on time. As he was putting down his bag she finally emerged from her siesta, keys in hand, heading out for the nght but not before sniping at me for not waking her up. Was I supposed to know that? There went the family dinner I was looking forward to. I reminded myself that she’s a college student enjoying her summer. No big deal.
I woke up the next morning for work. Found her dishes in the sink from the leftovers she ate at some wee hour of the morning and something sticky all over the counter. Wiped it up, grabbed my coffee, headed out the door, and settled myself in my car while I waited for the garage door to open fully. I shifted the car into reverse and I saw her car pop up on my rear view camera, again, in the middle of the driveway, blocking my path out. Again?? Luckily, I found her purse thrown on the dining room table (which was her dumping ground for anything she brought in), and her keys were inside – miracle! I got in her car (that we bought her) and tried hard to ignore the discarded bags from Dunkin Donuts carelessly strewn about the vehicle and the mostly finished coffee drinks which filled every available cup holder. I growled to myself, “Can’t wait for her to go back to school!”
I received three calls from her at work. First, where were her shoes? Ummm, on the shelf in the garage carefully labeled ‘shoes’ by my husband where I put them after tripping over them the day before. Second, where did I put her blue shirt? Where did I put her blue shirt?? I suggested she look through the piles of things that had accumulated on her bedroom floor or in the baskets of clean laundry waiting to be folded. Seriously? Third, could I wake her up when I got home from work because apparently I should have known I was supposed to do that the day before? Gladly! I reminded myself to be patient but I was so ready to send her back to school. All of these experiences pretty much summarized her summer at home.
Fast forward to yesterday…She was packing and getting ready for her drive back to school. I watched her empty about a full bag of trash from inside her car which she then left next to the garbage bin. Good thing she didn’t waste any of her energy by putting it inside the bin. I huffed to myself and thought, “Don’t let the door hit you in the a$$!”
But when she finished packing the last bag and walked over to say goodbye, my tears came. I reminded her to call me right away when she got there and from the car if she started to feel sleepy or wanted company.
When I returned inside I saw my dining room table void of her belongings. I didn’t trip over any of her things on the way up the stairs. I took a look in her room to gauge where my clean-up should begin and found a sticky note on her bed that said, “Love and miss you mom XOXOXOXO.” Tears again and the thought, “Gosh I miss her.” I left her room, zipped to my laptop and checked when Thanksgiving break was. I can’t wait until she comes home…
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