Dawn Is Me

Sometimes, as I listen to my daughters converse, I’m reminded of that sugar, spice and everything nice stuff — mostly because, much to Mother’s glee, it just doesn’t apply.

Gina: Sorry, Kimmie, we’re going to have to stop killing people for awhile so I can go read manga!

Kimmie: Awwwwww!

Truth to tell, I rather like having bloodthirsty daughters. But then, you know I’ve always loved that anti-stereotype stuff anyway …

My eldest daughter is, by now, an officially enrolled and fully matriculated freshman at Ithaca College.

We took her to school on Sunday, helped her move her stuff in, watched her unpack (her drawers have never been neater). Gino set up her computer — mostly … we just sent her network card so she can connect to the Internet through her roommate’s router. Once that arrives, she’ll be back on the net … much to her Daddy’s relief.

We stopped by the bursar’s office to take care of some business there (of course). And we went with her to the ID office for the dining halls so that she could get her ID card so that she could eat that evening. And we met her roommie, Jackie, and roommie’s parents, Ellen and Brandon.

Then we mosied out to the car to leave. We hugged her. She cried. Gino almost cried. Kimmie, who came with us, went emo.

I must be the most unnatural parent. I knew I would miss my Gina-girl but I don’t really feel so sad that she’s gone off to college. Maybe it’s because, in my head, this is a small step and she’s not really gone. Or maybe it’s because I know that she’s moving into a really wonderful time in her life and I’m excited for her.

Or maybe it’s just that I know this how it’s supposed to be. It’s time for her to take this step. I’m not worried that she can’t handle it. I’m not worried that anything terrible is going to happen to her. And I’m not worried that I’m losing anything here.

This is my first successful launch. I’m tickled pink.

There’s something else, too. I’m not expecting her back here until Thanksgiving break. It’ll be right around her 18th birthday, too. She will have been gone for a few months and she will have had time to find her feet over there in Ithaca. She will have spent a couple of months taking care of herself in all the ways she’ll need to take care of herself and she will have started to make some of the friendships that she may well keep for the rest of her life.

She will be different. I’m expecting it to be kind of subtle, hard to put your finger on. If she seemed really cool when she left, she’ll be amazing when she comes back to visit.

I can’t wait. I can’t wait to see what she’ll be like then.

One of the nice things about being a habitual thinker is that it really doesn’t take much to get you started.

Right now, one of the Big Deal things that’s going on in my house is the fact that Gina is preparing to head off to college next month — with attendant nervous breakdowns occurring in different ways for different reasons among the different people in my house.

(NOTE: Kimmie is better, not ‘fine’ but better.)

This morning, I’m considering Gina’s particular nervous breakdown. She is worried about leaving home in the way that teenagers who are leaving home for the first time often do (‘How do I do … everything?’).

I thought about that when I was reading this, which reminded me, in its turn, of a certain episode from my twenties.

I got married when I was twenty-four and, in spite of the fact that I really hadn’t lived at home for more than three consecutive months since I was sixteen, I was also acutely aware of the fact that I hadn’t really been out on my own, either.

‘How did you arrange that?’ I hear you ask.

Simple. I finished high school at a boarding school in Virginia (scholarship student, in case you were wondering). When I went to college, I spent most of my vacations and summers at school and when I left school (without a degree), I moved into an apartment in Queens with my then-boyfriend. When we broke up, I moved out of his apartment into a dorm room at another college, having decided that giving higher education another try was preferable to trying to support myself in New York City.

From there, I moved in with my then-future spouse and his mother and, after a few more gyrations as I flitted through my twenties in typical air-headed style, Gino and I got married.

So, about a year and a half later, I was suddenly seized by a need to prove to myself that I could live on my own and take care of myself. So, I moved out of our apartment and “officially” separated from my spouse — much to his dismay — got an apartment in Park Slope and set about making a point.

I probably don’t even have to explain this but the point I was trying to make was that I hadn’t married simply to provide myself with somebody to take care of me, that I could take care of myself. That was important because I wanted to make sure I was with my husband because I wanted to be and not because I was afraid. I’m not sure if I was ever able to make him understand that but, more than twenty years of wedded bliss later, I doubt it really matters.

I’m thinking about this now, as I think about Gina and her jitters. It is entirely possible, even fashionable in this day and age, that Gina will go to college, get her Master’s Degree, and enter the workforce without ever truly leaving home. But, when I think back to that episode and I think about HeatherB, I find myself wondering if she will reach the point where she really just has to prove to herself that she can do it on her own.

Or if, as I fully expect, her college experience will instill in her a greater appreciation of not having to live in her mother’s house and abide by her parents’ rules as an adult.

And I wonder if she really understands that I have no plans to throw her out of the house when she reaches a certain age (of course, I can’t speak for her dad). And it’s not that I want to keep my kids with me eternally.

It’s just that I have a feeling I won’t have to kick them out. At some point, they’ll want to leave. And that is as it should be.