higher education

I took my eldest on a University tour yesterday and one of the highlights was a presentation by a very animated professor with a great sense of humour. One of the lowlights was  a residence tour by Jacob, first year Engineering student.

Jacob’s voice was so familiar from my University days; one part very late night, one part pack of smokes, one part bottle of vodka. It was Saturday at noon after all – which means he likely just got up from last night.

Jacob walked us to what he thought was his single room on the 3rd floor- unfortunately it was a triple room on the second floor- he opened the door and in the blackness it was clear there were 8 people asleep in there – the room thick with hangover and mistakes and question marks about who had slept with who.

When we finally got to his room  he said sorry “I still can’t find my way around this residence”

so are you getting to many classes Jacob?

Jacob laughed and showed us the communal kitchen which he called a train wreck due to the sloppiness of his floormates. Some parents looked into the kitchen- others were too fearfull. It was a bit like road kill -I was afraid to look but felt compelled to.

Next he took us to the lounge that they all shared on the floor. ” Someone brought in X BOX – so I am finding it hard to pull myself away to get to class”

“Don’t be alarmed by the bathrooms folks. They are unisex.” We walked in and there  was garbage and water everywhere, as though it had been both vandalised in a drunken stupor and been the location of a full on water fight the night before.

“This concludes the residence tour” he says adding-“Get a meal card, even I can’t rely on girls cooking for me on this floor. ”

We walked out quietly.

Maturity apparently comes from moment as a parent when you want to say SO much, yet you wait, biting your cheeks, letting your teenager say it first.

Sometimes I can be mature although last night I felt like the teenager in my home- click here to read more

backfilling


Backfilling is when something is leaving the ‘front door’ of your life and you pull replacement in through the back door of your life in order to make up for the loss.

In talking to people who have had affairs,  they say they  become invisible to each other. That in a failing marriage with passion, love and attention flying out  the front door, escaping through the drafty floorboards, the old roof and the window seams – the gardener may be invited in through the back door of your life, for a lemonade, a kiss, maybe more. Or the tennis pro, or your boss, or your subordinate or the lonely widow down the street. And the same for him; he needs to backfill what has slipped through his hands , what is no longer in his life, his foundation.

I don’t fully understand the moment  and I am not sure I want to when someone decides this is what they should have rather than work on what they do have but I don’t either believe the notion that “she was a bored housewife so she had an affair” or ‘he was looking for something else’.

But I really do understand the notion of backfilling.

When my children got less little and I realised I was not going to have any more I started to backfill with other people’s littles through my art program. They feed my soul, keep me young and happy.

Silence is good for me but only in juxtaposition with noise.

This is going to be the last year with my oldest daughter at home. Next year I am thinking I need to backfill big time.

Anyone know a beautiful, happy, kind and positive teenager  who needs a home?

I didn’t think so.

Today is my 5th birthday- take a look on what the heck I am talking about by clicking here (BTW why aren’t all of you clicking here each time?It is some of my best work!1 minute of your life is all I am taking)

letting go

I drove my oldest daughter to camp this weekend for the 8th time. 8 Years ago, when the trip was made for the first time, I had to meet the counsellors and assistant counsellors  and SEE THE WHITES OF THEIR EYES and see whether they were the type of people who might comfort her and rub her back if she was homesick. I  met  all the cabin mates and wondered were they nice and kind enough to have her around them for two weeks. I looked at the waterfront and thought about fun and beautiful sunsets she would see and maybe for a second about drowning. I looked at the mess hall and thought about nutrition- white bread or brown? Would they make them eat veggies?  Is that really a box of Lucky Charms over there?

When it rained at any point during that time she was away, I wondered if she was dry. When it was hot and sunny- are you wearing sunscreen and drinking lots of water? You know how you get migraines.

At night I hoped she was warm enough and getting enough sleep and not feeling one ounce lonely.

It was two weeks only and I got better at it as we all do as  time went on.

On Saturday this year, I dropped her off for the whole summer. She is working there.

I still tried to do that thing that I have tried to do for 8 years. I hang up her bathrobe and towel and start making her bed. I get a rash thinking she might be at any point touch the camp mattress with her bare skin. I put the shoes in the cubby and the rain boots by the door. She says “please mom” two times and I ignore her. And then finally- she gets mad, her kind of mad- which is the kindest of mads but I know it when I see it- and I say “sorry” and laugh and go outside onto her porch and look at her little pretty view of the lake right there so close so she can hear the water when she sleeps. And I think- you are about to have another amazing experience and I can barely stand how excited I am for you.

It is like all these moments of motherhood are the same. You are so so happy for them because they are doing what they love and being appreciated for it. They are learning and taking big risks and making mistakes and overcoming and being their best.

But you wish it did not have to be so far away from you.

I like manners but thankfully there is no longer just one way for a lady to behave. Click here for some scary quotes on etiquette