Ready to be ready

I know you are all used to me giving off the vibe that I am a completely rational human being who has herself pretty well pulled together. Mmmhmm, that's right. Well, today will be a slight departure from that norm as I share a few items from the "getting my son ready for college". The mere fact that I have time to sit here on the computer trying to generate some coherent thoughts tells you we are more than prepared, right? Or...

The final push for getting this traveling college show on the road probably started two weeks ago. I bought the Advil, new socks, toothpaste and other similar necessities, but had more energy to spare. If you recall, my standard strategy for coping with nervous energy is organizing stuff in an attempt to restore some order to my world. Our craft closet now boasts fewer impractical options, my son has twenty-four fewer t-shirts and the school supply inventory no longer looks as though I have kindergartners. One week ago I noticed that I preferred to do my sorting and purging at least on the same level of the house that my son was on, just in case I thought of some pearl of wisdom I had neglected to tell him. "Separate the dark clothes from the light!" I did not want to have to yell from far away. "Be respectful of yourself and other people, and don't be a jerk to women. You do not want your picture with a line through it on the door to a dorm." (Yes, I said that.)

As the days went by, I noticed my tendency to hover was increasing. I was running out of areas in the house to tidy up that were in close enough proximity to my children to be a casual observer. I did leave to run a couple of unnecessary errands just to give them a chance to breathe. Make no mistake, I rarely stop being aware of how ridiculous I can be.

Now here we are in the final countdown, and I found myself sitting on the couch skimming through old cooking magazines before throwing them into the recycle pile. Oh, I was on the couch because that is where my son was sitting, of course. 

Those are recipes I may never try on the right, but they take up much less space than the magazines did!

Dont' let the noise canceling headphones fool you, I am sure he could hear the cacophony symphony of his mother's voice. That computer and phone certainly weren't distracting either. This was QUALITY TIME!

I just had to cram as much togetherness in as I could...and as many m&ms into my mouth as possible.
I had to see as many facial expressions of his as I could...even if they were skeptical and slightly impatient ones, aimed at me no less.
I had to listen to him breathe...no, I didn't. Okay, maybe I did.

Magazines older than both of my children and the most recent Cooking Lights were from 2007. 

Look, I had already reclaimed half of a shelf, but now had empty magazine holders.

Just as I felt a calm starting to come over me, there were so many magazines that the recycle bin was too heavy to lift. How was I going to get rid of the magazines? 

As if I cook interesting meals.

People keep telling me that my son will be fine, and I kind of believe them. All selfishness aside, it is me that I worry about! After days of randomly getting choked up, yesterday culminated in full blown tears. It wasn't like I was sitting dwelling in a pile of sadness, but rather was just trying to go about my day with waterfalls down my face. I hid out in the shower for a little while, then with towels for a little longer. Speaking seemed to have some direct correlation with the amount of saltwater escaping me, which became evident when my mother called. (Totally not her fault as she was only trying to make dinner plans, and she made up for it with chocolate.) I did eventually stop leaking, but there is a chance I may have just been dehydrated. 

Today is a new day...to sit on the couch, a respectable one cushion away. He just asked me why I was looking at him...because I can! You don't think he'll mind if I wear my cape tomorrow, do you? Superpowers and a hankie (eww) all in one?