ENROLLING EMILY

Emily becomes more and more callous with each passing day. She keeps announcing to me the number of days of high school she has left (8 by the way), and I picked up this odd-looking package in the back seat of her car the other day...and it was her cap and gown. Then one night she brings a half-dozen dresses to my room so I can help her pick one out for that tear-fest known as the "Senior Girl’s Tea". This annoyed me for two reasons. One because I knew I’d have to go to the tea and cry, and two, because she wasn’t asking for a new dress. I find myself reacting to these situations with teenage coping mechanisms. I sigh a lot, deeply and loudly. And at other times I just ROLL MY EYES. It’s working for me, so please don’t judge me.

Of course nothing screams IT’S OVER more loudly than what we did last Friday. Because that’s when we officially enrolled her in college. It was actually way less painful than I’d imagined it to be, not only because the process was amazingly efficient, but also because she was so excited to be there, bless her heart. It probably helped that she knew half the staff already, and that she got to walk out with that Mac Book. But along the way, she met some friendly fellow enrollees and interesting and funny professors, giving her much to look forward to in the fall.

Lest you think it was a perfect day, however, let me assure you that there were some glitches. First off and foremost, history professors should probably not be entrusted with freshman enrollment. Though charming and clearly intelligent, they were also clueless when it came to figuring out Emily’s schedule. But after several missteps, they graciously accepted defeat, and took Emily and her laptop over to the Registrar who "fixed" the schedule in a record 3 minutes.

And of course I had my personal problems. I wanted to look presentable at this thing not only so as not to embarrass poor Emily but also because I’d be meeting fellow parents at the parent orientation. But as I’m getting ready that morning, I realize I forgot to pack my make-up AND the clothes I planned to wear that day. Who does this kind of thing? I mean I only had to pack for one night and this one day. We weren’t going for a weekend...just for this ONE DAY. And I forgot everything basically. Well except for my two pillows, and something to sleep in.

So I borrowed Emily’s makeup...which made me look very young actually (pink lip gloss you know)...and I wore my old jeans that I’d traveled in, and then I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Which probably was a good idea anyway. And I think I only said a few strange things to people. I told one lady that I hoped Emily would eat a lot of yogurt while she was at college because it would help her stay regular, and then I told one of the IT people that Emily needed help but wouldn’t raise her hand. And he said which one is she, and I waved a hand in her general direction and said, "The Blond."

But the thing that intrigued me most about the day, and the reason I regretted that Dave couldn't come with me, was seeing the other parents there who were just like me. They looked like me (except they all seemed to be wearing their own makeup and an outfit they'd picked out AND PACKED for the day), and I knew they felt like me. They were excited and nervous and wanted to hover but didn’t want to hover at the same time. And at one meeting after hearing the professor describe some of the classes and some of the majors, I actually said, "I think I want to go back to school," and all the other parents nodded in agreement. In many ways, I can't wait for Emily to experience it all.

I had grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, spinach salad and garlic bread for lunch. My husband and children made and served it to me, because this is Mother's Day. I think I would like to live in a world where everyday is Mother's Day. Wouldn't you?