Upcoming, Upcoming, Upcoming

Some of my ilk call me their concierge, always trying to drag everybody around to something fun, make a new memory, nag, nag, nag. I read a great article in the NY Times about how spending money on an event makes you happier than, say, buying a couch. And it's not like I spend a lot. I love Showup.com. I love early bird specials. I really love free. But the greatest part is being a forty-five year old empty nester with a flexible job, a hubby that knows how to make his own dinner and a little extra time on my hands. Now that's happy.

Crybaby

I hate to be such a crybaby. I'm usually so go-with-the-flow, but the little birdie flew the coop this morning, car loaded up and back to school for her junior year (just got text - 11:35am - The eagle has landed). Empty nestville, here I come again. Shana was excited to get back to school. Get back to her friends. Get back to set up her new room in her new apartment. School doesn't even start until the 23rd, so this was a first. I had a feeling all summer that this would be it. The last real one. She was antsy whenever she was home. Wanting to be out working or interning or traveling like so many of her friends were doing. So next year, now that her commitment to Workshop is over, she probably won't even come home. She's going to Spain for her Spring semester and thinks that it would make more sense to just get a one-way ticket, stay over there all summer, putz around, room in some hostels. Maybe that's why it's so hard. Maybe that's why the tears keep flowing. 

Soccer Mom

Empty Nesthood is hard. There's a quiet around that you just never get used to. I miss the loud. I miss the cheering, the screaming, the rah rahing on the sidelines. I miss the hundreds of soccer games, softball games, theater performances, ballet recitals and gymnastics meets. I miss the hours and hours spent sitting in the stands with the other parents, on the bleachers, on the ground, standing in the back, hiding backstage watching Shana do her thing. There were all of those leave work early days for afternoons at the field, gathering the team at Subway Saturday mornings after practice, taking the make-up off and undoing the bun after the show and on and on. These days all I get is a few co-ed softball games per season, more if Shana makes the playoffs. Next up, Sunday in Tucson. So...four hours in a car for an hour long game?
I-10 here I come.

She's baaaack!

The little birdie flew back to the empty nest for almost a month. Gotta love that schedule. I remember one of my professors in college used to say, "The real world sucks, don't go." He was right. The long summer, all the three day weekends, the winter break, getting to start over again every semester, mom and dad signing the checks - the good life. But now my fun starts again - the house full of kids, the row of teens at Movie Madness, the shopping, the sleeping in, the somebody else to take out the trash, the snuggling and talking and getting the real scoop, not the shortened, texted, between classes version - the real deal. All mine for a month.

Lunch Mom

Today I was the lunch mom. I still suffer from Empty Nest Syndrome (I know, whine, whine, whine) so when I heard that Shana was coming home to lead one of her Workshop programs, I immediately signed up to bring lunch. I love hanging out with these kids. They work so hard all year. Summers are intense, but things keep going all year long with the one day refresher programs - Back-to-School, Powerhouse for boys, Girlwise for girls, helping the teens make adjustments to some of the things they learned over the summer after facing some real world stressors during the new school year -  www.orho.org.

And as a non-profit with about a hundred 16 - 25 year old peer leaders, they always need food. Today the number was closer to 40, but I wanted to be prepared. I asked Shana to help me with the menu. She said "just no pizza or Paradise Cafe - that's all we eat all summer." We decided on a brunch menu for the 10:45 rush of kids - eggs, potatoes, bacon, sausage, yogurt, juice, apples, bagels, cream cheese, muffins. As I kept shopping over the past couple of days and filled up practically two refrigerators (after plugging in the very hot one in the garage just for the occasion), Shana kept saying that they could never eat all that food, that I was going overboard. But I didn't want to run out, didn't want anybody to go hungry. After all, how often to I get to do this anymore? I'm never in charge of snacks for the classroom anymore, no more cases of granola bars for the softball games, no more thirty cupcakes for the school birthday parties, no more science fair project groups showing up in my kitchen after school, starving.

So I actually bought juice boxes for the first time in years and smiled as these big kids stuck in the little straws and came back for more. Shawn toasted the bagels while Shana and our extra daughter, Maddie, supervised. I  just took it all in, eating up each and every "thank you, Mrs. Sullivan" until Shawn and I had to leave them to their preparations for the at least 60 kids who would show up later.

Shana was right, I did go too far. I've got a ton of leftovers. But at least the extra fridge is still plugged in. You never know when I'll be in the mood for a juice box.

Circle of Life

And then there were two. Well...not so fast. Shana hit the road to Tucson this morning, sophomore year in college here she comes. We had a great summer, lots of travel - saw so many new countries and some of the same old summer stomping grounds, a month of Leadership Workshop, plus lots of movies and hanging around lazy days, too. I wasn't ready for her to leave. It came up so fast. I still want to worry and help and advise and crack up. I still want to mother. But, careful what you wish for, because today I had to be Mom to my Mom before, during and after her knee replacement surgery following years of tennis and skiing and gardening and walking around in high heels. I was her eyes, ears and mouthpiece. I was her Power of Attorney and holder of the purse as she turned over the keys to the kingdom. All of the forms and the doctors and the nurses and the beeping and the making sure that the X got put on the right (the RIGHT, RIGHT, not the left) leg didn't give me much time to wallow about Shana, about the empty nest, about the "who am I now" thoughts, just happy to see her "here i am" text after finishing her drive down I-10. But then it hit me. As Shawn and I were walking out of the hospital, through the same doors we walked through 18 years ago with little two day old Shana, it all came back. She's gone. And then there were two.

The Perfect Afternoon

Ignorance is bliss. I've been trying to ignore the fact that Shana's going back to college all summer, happily enjoying having her around. Today we had the perfect afternoon - manis and pedis with Grandma, then home for a Gilmore Girls marathon. Hours and hours of summer girl fun, flipping through stupid magazines, hot stone leg massages, sparkly blue toes in honor of Shana even though she branched out and got fluorescent orange today and tons of Lorelei and Rory lessons from the freakishly close mother-daughter pair. Life was good. Everything was fine. I wasn't crying.

And then Shana said, "Wanna go to Office Max with me?"

One semester, two semester

What a difference a few months makes. When Shawn and I took Shana down to Tucson for her freshman year in August, we were on top of it. Totally organized. Everything was packed in it's shiny new box and put just so in the car. Back then, we were at one with the other parents, becoming fast friends. We passed each other knowing glances as we took trip after trip to the car and to Target and to the hotel. We were anxious together in the orientation meetings, wondering if all of our babies would be ok sleeping in these tiny rooms so far away  (well, ok, not so far away, but still) from home. The kids looked at all the new faces nervously, somewhat disoriented, maybe even a little nauseous. We carefully unpacked, assembled and decorated. We fluffed, cleaned and Febreezed. I even covered up the urinals in the bathroom with Shana's roommate's mom (my new BFF).

Today was a little different. Shana and I threw everything in big garbage bags and shoved them unceremoniously in the car, barely getting the doors to shut. I grunted at the other parents, uttering an occasional, "Wow, the year sure went fast" or "Hi, how are ya?" Shana vacuumed her room for the first time all year (after I picked up wayward Fruit Loops and at least six little packets of red pepper flakes that had dropped out of pizza boxes).

What a difference. We've come a long way. No more crying all the time. Maybe it's because Shana had a good year. As she said goodbye to all of her new friends and as we walked around campus, I realized that she's good. She's ok. She owns the place now. Wow, the year sure went fast.

I'm not gonna cry...I'm not gonna cry...