Savoring senior year with my daughter

The essay that no college admissions office will read

This is a different year for me because my firstborn is a senior in high school. 

It's odd how something you've anticipated for a long time can still feel surreal once it happens. Wasn’t it just yesterday I was holding her as a baby (and noticeably younger)?

As a mom, this fills me with a range of emotions.

First, is overwhelm because there is so much to do with the college process. My daughter and I just spent the weekend in LA to film her prescreens, as she’s a musical theatre major.

This means she has double the work, filling out the regular applications and the artistic ones that require videos of her singing, acting, and dancing.

I’m going to be honest that this has created tension as I become the queen nagger–and the bad guy at home.

"Did you finish your essay? Did you make your coaching appointment?" I could go on, but you get the idea.

Second is the concern that she may not be quite ready for the real world. The rumination that arises from wondering if I've adequately prepared her can eat any parent alive.

I’ve been feeling this stress so much that I think it caused a rash. These midlife nervous system changes are no joke.

Another thing I realize is that these emotions might be a distraction from the sadness we both feel about her leaving us next year. I figured this out after a friend sent me this article about a phenomenon called soiling the nest. This part struck a chord with me:

Mother nature has the answer (doesn’t she always), and it goes like this; if mother and child find themselves entangled in an argument after argument, it will lead to a slow disassociation from one another, thus making the eventual break off that much easier.

I decided it was time to change course because I don't want my daughter's final year of school to be overshadowed by my constant nagging or excessive worry. I don't want to hide my feelings of sadness, either.

This has led to a radical letting go of sorts.

So, I’m replacing the nagging with boundary setting, about her and some of my helping responsibilities. Plus, I know that the college stuff will get done.

If I’m honest with myself, I also know I’ll never feel like she is totally prepared. I mean, how prepared was I? She’ll need to learn on her own and that’s okay.

Instead of lecturing her, I just send her helpful tidbits (like quotes) periodically. I’m also going to create a little cookbook and a toolkit for how to handle stress. Ha, ha. Maybe it's just to make me feel better, but so what? 

It’s all part of a lengthy process of letting go of the elusive control we have over our children. Like the time I had to accept that she would not breastfeed but felt better pumping milk full-time. Only for her to decide to breastfeed at four months.

This girl has a mind of her own.

Sadness is a normal part of it, too. To hide from it will be futile and unhealthy. But there are feelings of pride, joy, and accomplishment. To say I’m proud of her is an understatement.

She’s also my favorite person to be around.

We had so many laughing fits on our recent trip. Like spending 15 minutes finding parking in LA to get hairspray, only to find the CVS was closed.

I’m working really, really hard at being present with her this final year and avoiding fights. 

Because of the live auditions required for her major, we have more trips planned. And just like this past weekend, I hope to create more fun memories.

She’s expressed her desire to go away to college for some time now. A friend of mine warned me, “Don’t be surprised if she ends up wanting to stay close to home.”

And I know when the time comes, I’ll want that, and maybe the fear will make her think she wants it too.

Still, what I truly want is for her to make decisions from that instinctual place. I understand all too well the inner drive to want to leave home and how beneficial it can be to your growth as a person. It’s not right for everyone, but I think it’s right for her.

One final hidden aspect keeps popping into my head from all of this. As my children grow older, I know it's time to redefine who I am. If I had a dollar every time I've said or thought, "I'll do that when the kids are grown," I'd probably have enough money to replace my current wardrobe.

Is it an excuse to just put things off? Maybe. But it can turn into excitement as I focus on myself a little more. 

After this year, okay? It's too much at once. I don't want anything to obstruct the view of watching my baby grow into an adult.

I’m getting glimpses of what life will be like next year. I wasn’t allowed into her prescreen recordings. But I could still hear her sweet voice from the outside.

And then after we regrouped, I asked her how it went, realizing this will be how life will go. Hearing her voice from a distance until we get reunited once again.