As I get closer to Friday, I get closer to coming to terms with the fact that MC is moving out and will be at college.
I’ve been slowly getting all the things he needs to be able move in comfortably. He doesn’t make it easy as he is either in a bit of denial himself or just stubbornly thinks he really doesn’t need anything. It doesn’t help that he will be so close and he knows he can just run home if there is something he needs and doesn’t have.
It grates a little on my need to plan and organize this particular aspect.
Also not helping one bit is the fact that it is nearly impossible to get things like isopropyl alcohol around here. That is one of the things that are on my critical sanitizing routine. Not being able to get that is ratcheting up my already high worry levels.
Its hard enough to send your kid off to college for the first time under normal circumstances. There is nothing resembling normal about anything right now.
I’m stressing about making sure he has the ability to keep himself safe while also stressing over the fact that it isn’t mentioned anywhere about whether certain items are provided for in the dorms, like toilet paper (because he has a private bathroom that he doesn’t share with anyone it is a legitimate question). Some days I have the strangest worries.
We joke around about taking over his spot at the table or letting BG use his room for her video meetings when she starts back to class. Then we laugh at the fact that it is going to be so peaceful and quiet when we don’t have to listen to him yelling at whatever game he is playing. Things that predictably get a response, but that we can all laugh about.
The closer we get to Friday, though, the more stressed and emotional I get. Because each day we get closer, the whole thing just gets a little bit more real.
I have to remind myself that he is only living on campus for his first year, basically 9 months, and then he will be back home, and quite possibly adding MCG into the mix if she can get accepted to a school around here as well. Then I have to remind myself that he is 20 minutes away, not hours, and will most likely still come around often.
Those reminders still can’t manage to trick my brain into not being weird about it all. Said brain decided to express how much it was all bothering me (I’m sure also pulling from the family BS of the other day as well) by giving me a lovely dream about being abandoned and forgotten, one of my lovely one’s that are so exceptionally emotional it is still hanging around days later.
I feel like I need to just go sit on a quiet beach somewhere and watch the water. For like a month.