My baby girl, who I am pretty sure just arrived yesterday, is graduating from high school next week.
I want to be far cooler about this occasion than I actually am.
Thoughts I want to have:
“Fly and be free, oh grown-up-ish no-longer-child of mine!”
“What an exciting time of growth and change!”
“I am so lucky to have a kid so brave and confident that she wants to go far far away from home to spread her wings!”
“Gee whiz – I was hoping for excuses to visit Nashville!”
Thoughts I actually have:
“OMG – that whole ‘give her wings’ thing is a TERRIBLE idea!”
“But…but…how can this be happening!?”
I am so proud of her. For real. She’s so smart and so cute and so badass and so talented and so brave and so almost grown-up. She’s wise and makes good life decisions and her moral compass seems sound.
I want to encourage her next phase, I really do.
I mean – I DO encourage it. I will continue to encourage it. She’s going to be great.
Ideally I’d feel less conflicted about it.
I have not been good about teaching self-sufficiency. I always thought there was more time. And I like to feel needed. And I like taking care of people. And I like her. A lot.
There’s not more time (well, there’s the summer for some intensive “How to Adult” training). But I think she figured a lot of it out without me. Or will, anyway.
She has a toolbox, a guitar, and a cell phone. She is set up to pretty much do anything.
She will manage to do laundry.
She will eat – possibly not only pizza and maybe more than once a day.
She will probably at some point learn to voluntarily eat a vegetable. Or at least a fruit.
She will probably reply to at least some texts.
She will practice the buddy system. She will look out for her friends and make sure they look out for her.
She will meet people and do things and grow and change.
She will come home to visit. I am not above bribing her as necessary.
It’s only four years. Or it’s not.
She will be brilliant.
I will be a virtual (hopefully IRL at least sometimes) cheerleader. I will shut my mouth about how hard this is for me. Because it isn’t about me. Things rarely are.
WHY AREN’T MORE THINGS ABOUT ME?!?!?
Because they aren’t. Sigh. Whining about it isn’t going to make it any better for anyone.
I vow not to whine. This post is my whining substitute. Thank you for allowing it…after this I shall stop.
This is a natural transition. Roots and wings. Blah blah blah.
(If I hear “Roots and Wings” again I am not sure I can be responsible for my reaction…just sayin’.)
I’m not losing a kid. I am gaining frequent flyer miles, more ways to use my unlimited data plan, and a reason to say Honky Tonk in conversation.
And I will be OK. Maybe not until 2021 (or I guess actually 2024 when my OTHER kid gets through this situation)…but I’ll be OK.