Turn Around, Turn Around*

I discovered this half-forgotten, partially-completed post in the wee small hours of the morning when I couldn’t get to sleep. It hit me like a ton of bricks and I realized that it was too important to toss away, even though it is no longer timely or true. I’m pretty sure that there’s something in it for you, too. Take a look and see:

Last night I was having dinner with my high school senior and a good friend of his. It was just the three of us since everyone else in the family was out of town for one reason or another. The boys had just come in from playing basketball and were chatting about their “senioritis” and how hard it was to stay focused on their schoolwork, with graduation looming in the not-so-distant future.

I was laughing and listening to their crazy stories and wondering in amazement how we could have arrived at this place so quickly. He’s going to be leaving really soon. How could this have happened? When did that adorable little shy guy who used to mix up his w’s and r’s and hide under his bed when company came to visit morph into this self-assured, lanky, six-footer about to head off with his buddy for the evening?

When my first one left for college, I was okay with it. He was itching for more independence and anxious to get going on his life as a young adult. He was full of confidence and spirit and I had no worries about his ability to make it on his own at college.

Plus, to be perfectly candid, I was a little worn out by the constant push and pull of dealing with an adolescent male child and all that goes along with that. “Why can’t I go to ___  for the weekend with my friends? Why can’t I stay out until 2:00? Why can’t I?, Why can’t I?, Why can’t I?? You guys are the strictest parents of all my friends.” Blah, blah, blah.

Okay, I must admit that I was craving a little peace from that! I knew that he would be coming and going for years and that we would still have a very full house. Plus, I was looking forward to having a little more time to devote to my other two. Then the second one was off and that was fine, too. She was thrilled about the school she was going to and well-equipped to face the challenge of stepping out into a world that offered more independence and the chance to make her mark.

But this time it’s different….

When I wrote this I was coming face-to-face with the fact that my youngest child would soon be leaving the nest. I was a little apprehensive and just beginning to let in the significance of what was about to happen to me and the world I had been inhabiting for the past 25 years. A full year has come and gone since I thought those thoughts and wrote those words. And now I’m sitting here shaking my head once again, trying to figure out where the time went!

That high school senior I was telling you about is coming home from college this weekend for Spring Break. In what seemed like the blink of an eye he: sweated out the long wait for those ever-so-important acceptance and rejection letters from colleges near and far; got into the one he was hoping for; got himself all dressed up in a tux and went to the Prom with a beautiful young lady; graduated from high school with all his friends; worked and played through the summer months and then left home last fall to go to college.

And now he’s coming home again, but just for a while. It goes fast. I remember people saying that to me when my kids were young and I would nod politely and think to myself, yeah, yeah, yeah. I couldn’t comprehend it, really. Some days seemed to go on forever with all the kiddie minutiae that spilled into every waking moment. It was impossible for me to contemplate a life as a mother with no children at home. It seemed a zillion years away.

But they were so right.

Take pictures, take videos, write down all the silly and sad, brilliant and whimsical things they say. Don’t flip out over petty small stuff. Spend as much time as you can with them playing and talking and finding out who those children are. Celebrate their uniqueness and don’t make a federal case over the occasional mistakes and less than perfect grades. Laugh with them as often as possible. Love them until your heart breaks. And try to enjoy it all. Because before you know it, you’ll be shaking your head, too.

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*From the song “Turn Around” by Malvina Reynolds.

“Where are you going, my little one, little one? Where are you going, my baby my own? Turn around and you’re two, turn around and you’re four, turn around and you’re a young man going out of my door.

Turn around, turn around, turn around and you’re a young man going out of my door.

Where are you going, my little one, little one? Where are you going my baby my own? Turn around and you’re tiny, turn around and you’re grown, turn around and you’re a mother with babes of your own.

Turn around, turn around, turn around and you’re a mother with babes of your own”