Empty Nest Plus One

We're coming up on one of the milestone moments of Tyler’s freshman year.

 It’s the first long holiday break.

When Tyler was home for Thanksgiving, I enjoyed every minute.  It was nice to have adult conversations and learn about his team mates and new interests.  It was great to see his high school friends again when they stopped over.  It was wonderful to hear him laugh.  It was even nice to pick up empty water bottles lying around and put toilet paper on the roll when it was emptied by him. 

Would this wonderfulness be even more special during the month long winter break?

For him the thought of this may be worse than the realization that the "freshman 15" is not a myth and more cringe-inducing than seeing his roommate in his undergutchies.   I’m sure he will arrive home a wiped-out, post-finals mess.  He will be sleep-deprived, weighted down with dirty laundry and with four to six weeks of no structure, he will likely drive everyone, himself included, berserk.

Although I’m lucky enough to see Tyler at least one day a week, he is still basically living on his own.  In the four months that we have lived apart, we have both been adjusting to new routines.

For Tyler, these four months have been somewhat tumultuous. He’s never been away this long. Although he likes his roommate, there was an adjustment period. He’s had tough professors and the challenges of self-management with baseball, cafeteria times, sleeping and friends.  He’s used to being independent (so he thinks), making his own decisions and coming and going as he wants. 

For me, these four months have been a huge adjustment.  My world revolved around Tyler.  My house is quiet.  My grocery bill is half.  The ketchup lasts for months.  I can eat cereal for dinner if I choose.  Cali gets all my attention and if she wants to cuddle all evening, we cuddle.  And I never have to worry if there is TP when I need it. 

Starting tomorrow we will be back together under the same roof, trying to figure out whose new rules apply.

How should the temporarily reassembled household run? Should I expect Tyler to comply with his old high school rules? Is he a guest? If so, I don’t think he can be the kind of guest I’d want to invite back. I’m sure there will be hot-button issues such as curfew, chores, and drinking.  Plus, there will be holiday gatherings that I’ll want him to attend but he’ll want to hang out with his friends instead. 

I guess winter break will be the time to determine what to retain, what to reframe.  We will have to find a balance……a month long, temporary normal.  The “new normal” will kinda be a pop-up version of home life that we will return to each break.  I just hope it doesn’t include me cooking dinner every night!

Maybe I'm Not Tough Enough to be a Baseball Mom.....

Fall baseball is over for La Roche.  All the games were intra-squad except for a double-header at Seton Hill.  Sadly, I did not see my son pitch.   I know only what he tells me and he tells me that as hard and intense as it is, he absolutely loves it! 

Tyler has story upon story of his freshman year so far.  Most revolve around baseball; stories of past, present and even future happenings with the team.  I can hear the passion and excitement in his voice, which makes me smile. But there have been a few times that I heard frustration, worry and sadness. 

Leaving Tyler at La Roche has been like setting a kite loose in the wind. Even though a string is attached to the kite, once it catches the wind it tosses  and turns with little regard to the string that is trying to keep it grounded.  Like this kite, Tyler’s freshman year has been his first taste of freedom.   

With regards to baseball, the start of his Freshman year means the “courting” is over.  Think about this……when you first start dating someone, everything is perfect.  Each of you smell nice, look nice and act nice all of the time.  At some point during all this “niceness”, you fall in love and decide to make a commitment to a long-term relationship.  Once the commitment is made and possibly marriage happens, reality sets in.  No longer does each of you smell, look or act nice all the time.  That is what recruitment is like….once Tyler decided to commit and his freshman year started, things got real!  

The focus of baseball at the collegiate level is to win games.  Winning games isn't always enough.  College teams must have winning seasons.  Winning seasons make their school more attractive to baseball players, alumni and sponsors.  With that being said, Coaches must select the best players for their program.  Baseball players, pitchers to be more specific, are a dime a dozen.  Tyler realized real fast that he had to work hard in order to keep his spot on the team.  He had to become mentally tough, disciplined and most of all, he had to act like an adult. 

And he has!

And now it is my turn…..

It is time for me to toughen up and prepare for the rigorous world my son has committed to…..the closest thing to boot camp without sending my son off into war. Okay, so I’m exaggerating a little, but bottom line is it is time  for me to tuck away my hanky and toughen up.  There will be no more coddling of Tyler Booher….from coaches, players or (sniff…sniff) his mother. 

Off season practices were at least 3 hours long and on off days, he had to run and lift.  Like I mentioned above, he played intra-squad scrimmages which he pitched 2 or 3 times a week.  He had good days and he had bad days.  It was easy to tell by his voice which days were good.  I always listened quietly as he told about his experience on the mound for that day.  My heart either swelled with pride or cracked a little from the sadness I heard in his voice.  And a couple times my blood boiled in fury. 

“What do you mean he sent you to lift after you told him your arm was sore and you couldn't pitch anymore today? What type of coach does that? What do you mean he yelled at you? He told you to get off the field?!?!  He told you that you needed to lose weight? Your core isn't strong enough? What the hellllllll?”……..

In my brain as he was explaining the scenario to me, I was writing a not-so-nice email in my head to that coach.  Who was HE to call my kid FAT?  CORE-SCHMORE…..maybe he should run with them a little……..or do a few sit-ups…..what if that were HIS kid out there getting told to leave the field?....Yeah, I’ll tell him and give him a piece of my mind….I’m Kim Booher, afterall…..

But instead I found myself saying things like, “Well, Tyler, he knows best…..He’s been doing this for a long time….championship teams….good coach….maybe cut out Pepsi…..”

Then when I hung up the phone, I cried.  Geesh, this was tough!  He was crushed by a man he adores as a coach.  He was yelled at in front of others.  He was told he needed to lose weight!  He needed a hug…or maybe a cookie or two. 

Maybe I’m not cut out to be a collegiate baseball mom!

Or maybe it’s time for me to learn from my son.  He’s no longer that blonde little boy with the over-sized hat standing on the mound.  He’s a grown man that takes command of the field when he’s on the mound.  He’s disciplined, mature, and can take what is thrown (or hit) his way.  His future is right now and he is meeting it head-on.

 I've done my part in helping him develop his mental toughness.  He still needs me, but more so to just listen and be supportive.  He doesn't need me to fight his battles anymore …..he just needs me to be there.

And I will…until the fat lady sings. Well, unless she was told to lose weight .......then I’ll be there until the skinny, little chick sings. 

Don’t Be Afraid to Listen to Mom, She Might Just Be Right

Why is it that men…..okay, only SOME men, feel women know nothing about baseball?  Not only do I love to watch it, but I try to learn everything I possibly can about the game.  It has always infuriated me when men downplay my knowledge of the sport.  I don’t claim, nor have I ever claimed, to know everything about the game but I have a pretty good grasp on it. 

A few weeks ago I was getting ready to go to a high school fall baseball game.   The Slippery Rock High School baseball team joined the Shenango league that is played on Sunday afternoon.   The assistant coach called me and said he was going to be a few minutes late….I think I gave him poor directions…oooops!  Anyhow, he said that if I got to the field before him to let the opposing coach know he would be a couple minutes late and also tell the players to start warming up.  Yay!  A job!  Although I knew he’d probably arrive before me. 

I was wrong!  I arrived before him.  Alright, I had a job to do!  And better yet, that job required me, a woman, to go beyond the fence and onto the turf!  When I walked through the gate of the Neshannock High School baseball field, I held my breath waiting for some invisible force to detect that I was full of Estrogen and not Testosterone and zap me!   I was greeted by a group of dads standing there watching the opposing team take infield practice.  They of course looked at me like I had 2 heads and 5 eyes on each.  I smiled at them and said hello which I received a mumbled hello from maybe, at a guess, 2 out the 5 that were standing there.  Oh boy, I thought….this isn’t going to end well.   The conversation went like this:

A mumbled hello from a couple: Hi…

Me:  I talked with Coach S and he is going to be a few minutes late….

Dad 1 interrupting me:  We know.

Me: Oh, okay.  Well, he asked me to let Neshannock know what was going on and to make sure the team was warming up.

Dad 2:  We have it covered.  You aren’t needed.

Me in my brain:  What did you just say to me, you no-good piece of crap arrogant man? …

Dad from the opposing team standing outside the fence (who has known me since Tyler was 7): Ohhhhhhhh, this is gonnnna get gooooood!

Me (after shooting the dad on the outside a “shut up” look):  I realize that you might feel you have it covered, BUT I was given specific instructions from a colleague of mine on what I was to do when I arrived.  That is what I intend to do.  I am employee of the district and feel it is my responsibility to stay here until the coach arrives.  If you don’t like it, I don’t know what to tell you.  So, if you’d like to hang out here and watch, by all means, stick around.  If I need any of you, I will let you know. 

UGHHHH!!!!!!  

You know, there are some baseball moms that can do more than hand out snacks and drive the players to practice.  Some might even make good coaches.  I happen to think women, particularly, moms, are valuable resources in youth athletics. Unfortunately, they don’t get used enough.  I feel women have natural advantages over men when it comes to coaching at that level. 

1.      Women are natural leaders and tend to be less demanding leaders

2.      Women are natural nurturers

3.      Women tend to want to find a balance between competition and cooperation

4.      Women care about all children, not just their own

5.      Women are process- rather than result-oriented

6.      Mothers want to protect children from the pressures of the adult world

7.      Women are safety conscious and risk reluctant

8.      Women coaches are role models for girls and teach them to celebrate being a female athlete

SOOOO, why don’t we see more female Little League coaches?  For that matter soccer, basketball, football or any other youth sport? I think it's because too many men still believe that males are more knowledgeable and commanding when it comes to sports than women.  Because of this stereotypical attitude, most women at the youth sports level simply "go with the flow".  They don’t coach because they are told they aren't needed or they are only use to fill traditional roles, like team mom or they simply don’t volunteer.

Let me take this one step further.  I think moms would make excellent pitching coaches.  I know, I know…but hear me out!

When it comes to wanting their child to be their best and reach their potential there isn’t much a mom wouldn't do. I think nobody in the universe has more impact on young pitchers than their moms have.  Why?

• Lack of ego…..Kids come first, period.  Egocentric is not an attribute that defines most moms.
• Willingness to listen and learn…..There is so much material available to anyone who wants to learn about any aspect of pitching. Believe it or not you don’t have to be a former professional baseball pitcher to be a pitching coach,
• Patience….It takes time and extreme confidence to become a good baseball player.

One of the biggest reasons a young pitcher struggles is because of their lack of confidence. Moms have the special ability to not only to hold their sons accountable but also at the same time make them believe they can be anything they want to be.

We all know moms give the best advice off the field such as: Always wear clean underwear in case you’re  in an accident and don't swallow your gum because it will stay in your stomach for seven years if you swallow it. They also have the remarkable capability to educate, boost and empower their young athlete better than anyone on earth. No matter how big, or tough, or successful they become, everyone can use a little help from mom…..on and off the field.

So to all you men out there who feel you “got this” and “don’t need us baseball moms”…… Don’t be afraid to listen to us, we might just be right.

I'm Growing Up.......

I’m Growing Up.....

I have shared more about my feelings regarding Tyler leaving for college on this blog than anywhere else in my life, mostly because I use this space almost like an online diary.

I think I’m going through a form of separation anxiety with my 18-year-old son.   It’s hard for both of us.  He’s not having any trouble becoming an adult and being on his own… what’s hard for him is dealing with me.

Of course, I don’t remember the first time I had separation anxiety as a baby.  I’m sure I experienced it, since most babies do.  I do remember Tyler crying when I left him at the babysitter when I went to work but I remember my sitter, who is also a great friend, saying, “Go.  Just kiss him good bye, tell him you will be back and leave without looking back. He will be fine.” I remember looking at her thinking, 'Lady, are you crazy?!? This is my baby'!  His little heart was breaking as I walked away.  Truthfully, mine was too.  In his mind, I wasn't coming back.  Finally, he learned to trust that I would return. And I learned to trust he would be okay. 

Oh, how the situation has changed. 

My son is becoming an adult.  He wants to make his own decisions.  He doesn't want me to ask him if he’s done his homework, or if he’s getting enough sleep, or say things like, “Maybe you should shave” or “Please make sure you are eating enough.” 

He’s in college now.  Basically on his own.  He’s attending all his classes, doing his work, playing baseball, making new friends, finding time to see Briana and having a great time.   He’s respectful and kind.  But he wants to grow up.  And this momma’s heart is breaking. 

I know all the right things to think and say.  Really, I do.  I know this is healthy.  My heart is so full of pride for him that it honestly feels like it will burst!   

I’m just being real here.  It hurts that he doesn't need me in the same way he used to.  I actually get giddy when he brings his laundry home! Or when he asks me to look over his research paper.  Or when he texts to tell me he is out of mini muffins.

So I’m going through my own form of separation anxiety but I'm learning to deal with it. I’m learning to withhold advice on the little things, and save it for what really matters.  I’m learning to accept his choices, without following it up with advice on how to do it better.  I’m learning to set aside my desire to pout when he would rather hang out with his friends instead of talking to me on the phone.  I’m learning to not try to make him feel guilty for wanting to be independent.  I’m learning to be fully present when I do have a moment with him and not spoil it by overreacting based on emotion. 


In other words, I’m growing up.  

When Tyler and I talk now it is like two adults talking.  It isn't a son who is hesitant to tell me things because I'm his mother.  He TALKS TO me now.  I cannot tell you how good that feels.  

I had the time of my life in Pittsburgh at the Wild Card game with Tyler and his buddies. For the first time in a long time, he included me and made me feel like he wanted me there.  When he mentioned that they were going to meet up with their buddy before the game, I told him that I would sit in the car and meet up with them when they were ready. He looked at me oddly and said, "I thought you'd come along with us and hang out." 

Whoa! Wait! What?!?  He wanted ME....ME, his mother, the one who had to sit on a bench by myself when I drove him to the Lawrence County Fair to hang out with all his friends?  Me, who is not permitted to follow any of his friends on any form of social media? He wanted me to hang out with his baseball friends?  

We had a blast!  

Maybe we both have grown up?  Or maybe a little separation has done us both good?  

Either way, I'll take it!

When Life Throws You Curve Balls......

Sometimes life throws you curve balls. Even when you fully anticipate it and think you know what you are doing, along comes that pitch that almost takes you out of the game.

You swing hard, but it’s too late.

STRIKE

The anger boils and you want to shout.

Shout about being taking advantage of.

Shout about the lack of gratitude.

Shout about working your tail off for little reward.

Shout about being stabbed in the back.

Shout about friends turning their back on you.

Shout about being rejected.

Shout about not moving forward.

Shout about gaining a couple pounds.

Shout about shouting.

But what good does shouting do. It’s small and bitter and gets you nowhere.

Which is why you gotta get it out, right?

At some point during the shouting, the intense chutzpah needed to fight life back catches you.

It’s up to you.

It’s up to you to either walk away with your head down, feet dragging or to step up to the plate, keep your eye on the ball and start swinging.

It takes three strikes to put you out.

Come back swinging harder and faster than ever have before.

Look life in the eye and say, “Is that the best you've got, because it was piss weak.

Go on and try that again.

The next curve ball you throw, I'm gonna hit outta the park." 

Hold on, I Wanna Call a Do-Over..

When I was a kid, I used to call “do-overs.” It happened a lot when we would play kick ball.

Kick the ball off the side of your foot? Just call a do-over and you got another chance. Of course this depended on who you were playing with. When playing with my dad, he wouldn't hear of a do-over…no %#@*’n way…but if you were with kids who liked do-overs, you could call one and get a second chance.

The do-over was one of childhood's most potent customs, for it applied our power over the laws of space and time. The clock was rolled back, the game was restored to its exact status as before the challenged event and play was resumed. If the original play was important and the second attempt was dramatically different (ex: the player striking out instead of hitting a multi-base shot as in the original play), the do-over might be used again. This second request would give the team another chance thereby insuring that the universal forces of fair play were being honestly maintained.

Last Friday when I arrived home from work, a familiar silver car was in the driveway.  When I walked into the house, I saw a couple empty water bottles on my kitchen counter.  The silverware drawer was part way open.  I saw that the ketchup bottle left out.  I saw a La Roche baseball hat on my dining room table.  When I looked outside,  I saw the glider on the back patio gliding back and forth….I saw Tyler….headphones on, eyes closed, rocking on the glider. 

My boy was home!

Yesterday when I arrived home from work there was no silver car in the driveway.  The kitchen was just as I left it when I went to work….no empty water bottles, no ketchup left out, no La Roche baseball hat lying around.  It was quiet. Too quiet.  I looked out onto the back patio.  I don’t know why I did.  I knew he wasn't there……

So, I’d like a do-over.  I’d like to roll the clock back to yesterday afternoon.  I want to do-over this weekend and make it like last weekend. 

Tyler and Briana were both home last weekend.  It was a great time!  They spent time together at both homes and both families spent Saturday night together at the Canfield Fair.  The kids decided to head back to Pittsburgh early Monday since they had homework. The long holiday weekend wasn't long enough.  “They” say it gets easier each time your child leaves to return to college.  I think “they” are full of beans! 

 So far this weekend sucks.  I feel sad and grumpy.  My house is too quiet.  I'd simply like to call a do-over.  

Wouldn't it be great if we could just rewind our lives and have a do over whenever we wanted? Imagine the untold blessings it would bring if we could simply call a do-over--- to roll back the clock to an exact time when life was perfect...

Makes sense to me....

It's Official....I'm an Empty Nester.....

It’s been a week….

A week ago I left Tyler at La Roche. That final hug was a lot more difficult than I had expected.  My only child is now living among people I do not know, in an unfamiliar environment.  The freshman class has students from 15 countries, not including the United States.  I feel the anxiety daily and feel helpless as a parent.

I’m not going to lie…so far this empty nest stuff sucks!  My house is too quiet.  My house is too clean.  The laundry basket is too empty.  My grocery list is too short.  I laugh and smile too little and spend way too much time talking to my kitten. 

People say, enjoy it…..relax….do things you've always wanted to do…. Blah, blah, blah. I was doing what I wanted to do.  I enjoyed being busy.  I didn't want to relax.  I enjoyed the craziness of our evenings.  It kept me engaged and more importantly, it kept my brain occupied.  I miss it and it’s only been a week.  

Today at work as I was going through the Acceptable Use Policy forms that the middle school students turn in, I was reminded that I no longer have to do that for Tyler. 

And that actually made me smile!

I do not miss filling out the same forms every fall for school with the same information every….single….year…..by hand.  Duplicate sometimes. We live in a world of technology where toddlers can take selfies on an iphone and a cat can play a game on an ipad!   But we still need to fill out school forms by hand.  Every…Single…Year…..

Are there other things I won’t miss now that Tyler is in college?

Living with a moody teenager: I would cringe having friends or family around when Tyler was in one of his moods.  One minute he was a brat, the next minute he was amazingly nice; then he didn't talk; the next you couldn't shut him up. I never knew what to expect from one day or one minute to the next.

Shoes, shoes and more shoes:  I have one child with two feet.  This means he can wear only two shoes at one time.  My entry way constantly looked as though I had three or more children. 

The "know it all" attitude: I went from an authority, a valuable source of information to knowing nothing and I was totally incompetent as it relates to most subjects. On the other hand, he knew it all and had all the answers.

HOMEWORK.  'Nuff said......

Open Drawers:  I’m not sure why this was a difficult one for my son.  After all, he closed it MOST of the way.  Why not give it a smidge more and close it all the way? 

Water Bottles:  Empty…full…half-full….half-empty.  I’d find them everywhere. They were from him....they were from his friends....maybe ghosts were partying at night while we slept....who knows!

College Process:  College applications, essays, application fees. The common app, submit buttons, extra-curriculars, teacher recommendations, PSATS, SATS, ACTS, financial aid, deadlines, safety schools, reach schools, match schools.

NO TP:  Tyler was the master of having just enough TP for him and always left the empty roll for me to take care of.

Can I get that in a gallon size?:  The boy loved his ketchup!  I can now downsize the size ketchup bottle I buy and how often I need to buy it.

Got food?:  Every day I received a text saying, “what we eating”.  That’s how it was worded….what we eating.  And if I didn't get back to him right away I received a second text with a “?”. 

Tyler will be home tomorrow, along with his dirty laundry.  I will have a few days of scattered shoes, half-open drawers, water bottles lying around and lots of laughter and smiles!  For those few days my grown up son will be my little boy again. 

On Monday I will feel that mixture of Momma pride-anxiety-sadness-happiness all over again….and once again letting go after that final hug won’t be easy. I've heard it get easier.....

After he leaves I’ll pick up the empty water bottles and throw them away and I’ll push his dresser drawers closed and I’ll remind myself that this is how it is supposed to be. This is my life for at least the next four years. Then I will sit with Cali and tell her my thoughts about the weekend while waiting for the text saying he’s in his dorm room.

It’s hard to resist the urge to smother. I’m trying to find a balance of the right amount of texts and calls so he knows I’m thinking of him, without seeming like a helicopter parent. I know he will brush his teeth and change his underwear and probably even change the empty roll of TP at some point.

But that is for him to figure out.  I mean, I hope he will be able to change an empty roll of TP by the time he graduates…..right?

I've Got 99 Problems, but Ronda Isn't One of Them.......

I stopped by my friend Ronda’s house the other day unannounced.  Her husband was in the garage so I hollered as I was getting out of the car, “Hey, Bill!”

“Hi Kim. Ronda is out back.”

As I headed through the garage, Bill yelled, “Ronda, Kim is here! Kim!  Kim Booher!....KIM! Maybe you should put your shirt on!”

Yikes! She must be in the pool, I thought. 

As I stepped out of the garage, I heard Ronda yell to her son, “Can you hand me my top?”

                         

He looked at me and rolled his eyes and said, “I’m helping dad.”

Bill said, “You get it, RonDAAA.”

“I can’t reach it, Billllllll.”

“I’ll hand it to you.  I’m coming over there anyhow.” I said. 

This is soooo typical of my friends which I why I love them so much!  Ronda and I have been friends for over twenty years.  Through the years we’ve vacationed together, worked out together, shopped together, and camped together.  We’ve shared secrets, laughs and tears of joy and sadness.  We’ve sat together in church and suppressed giggles when she’d see me putting lipstick on for the third time.  We’ve shared hours together listening to every cassette the Jerky Boys ever made ( “This is Frank Rizzo.  Thatttt’s right, tough guy. ….”)  and I think we’ve watched every episode of “COPS” produced!  We were also there for each other when we lost loved ones.  We provided comfort and support for one another along with endless prayers. 

Our families used to spend every weekend together.  And believe me, it was ALWAYS an adventure!  But sometimes life gets in the way. It happens.  What was once your number one priority gets pushed to the back burner. Friends that you thought you’d never go a day without speaking to drift off into their own lives. The days pass and your new reality takes over as the memories get pushed down into the deepest spaces of your mind and heart…always there, just hidden from view.  But when the stars and the moon align and we get to hang out, we pick up right where we left off. 

That’s exactly what happened after Ronda put her swimsuit top on the other day.  She floated on her raft and I sat on the steps with my feet in the cool water.  A few days after that she texted to say she was coming over to meet my new kitten, Cali.  She showed up with a cooler of Corona and a lime.  For a couple hours, it was just her and I. With Ronda I don’t have to pretend.  I can be myself…my realest and most honest self. 

It doesn’t matter how often we keep in touch, and it doesn’t matter when Ronda and I will have time to hang out again. I know that when we do there won’t be that awkward small talk in the beginning; we will just start talking and teasing as though we never drifted.   

So, Happy Birthday to my friend, Ronda!

Here’s to the crap we would talk

During the miles we would walk.

Here’s to the way we shop

And the laughs we can’t stop.

Here’s to the gossip we spill

With Coronas on ice to chill.

Here’s to going out to dinner

And making sure yours is a winner.  

Here’s to me having a lime

When you come over next time.

Here’s to the random memories that make me smile

Even if I haven’t seen you in awhile.

I love you and wish you nothing but the best.  

PS....We REALLY need a couple newer pictures together pronto!

Conquering the Countdown

Parenthood has two big transitions, when our children arrive and when they leave.  I think I managed the first quite well and in 14 days, 22 hours, 4 minutes and 59 seconds I will discover how well I handle the second.   A once in a lifetime occurrence….Tyler will only start college once.  Such moments are rare. They have power.

I've spent a year thinking and whining and blogging over my feelings and how I was full of emotion.  But what about him? How does Tyler feel?  He’s leaving his secure nest.  His group of friends.  His girlfriend.  He’s an only child that has to share nothing with anyone.  He has someone to do his laundry and pick up his shoes and to make sure that he eats.  How is Tyler going to handle this transition? 

Yesterday we went to La Roche for textbooks.  It was a beautiful day to visit the campus.  Tyler invited his friend Lucas to come along.  Lucas has been Tyler’s sidekick for the last few years and I couldn't ask for a better friend for Tyler.  Lucas will be attending Penn State Main in the fall and is very excited about it. 

On the way to La Roche, I was explaining to Tyler some of the activities that will occur during “Welcome Week”.  Part of the discussion was that a few of the activities were mandatory.  And just like that, Tyler’s attitude changed.  “Mandatory?  They can’t make me do anything.  What are they going to do? Kick me out?”   His social anxiety kicked in big time. 

Tyler has come a long way in regards to his social anxiety.  Actually, you wouldn't know he suffered from it at all if I didn't broadcast it in my blog :) But when he is in situations or anticipating situations in which he has little or no control, it comes out full blown.  His first reaction is anger followed by an “I’m not doing it” and “you can’t make me” attitude.  That is usually when he and I battle.  I’m still learning all the time how to deal with his anxiety.  I've learned it is best to just change the subject and move on.  His brain needs to process the upcoming situation.  After it does, he will ask questions which will generate the discussion I wanted to have in the first place. 

The reality that “this is happening” is starting to hit Tyler.  The first of their group of friends leaves for Texas this Saturday.  Tyler told me that he plans to be there when his buddy leaves. I had no doubt that my son would be there.  The rest of them leave on August 22 like Tyler except Briana.  She moves in earlier that week.  I can’t even imagine how hard that is going to be…..

I know I've projected an image of being a hyper-controlling “Velcro parent” who is going to have a hard time letting go.  And it’s quite possible that I led you all to believe that I might camp out in Tyler’s room to help the “transition” to college. 

But you know what?

I know it’s going to be okay.  I know that these last couple weeks (14 days, 20 hours, 41 minutes, and 33 seconds) I need to be here for my son. 

There were no other meltdowns yesterday during our visit to La Roche.  I walked behind Tyler and Lucas and stayed out of “eavesdropping” range.  It was kinda cool to watch Tyler show Lucas around the campus and Tyler even let me take a couple pictures!  He didn't get overly mad when I introduced myself to a student outside of his dorm and asked her a few questions.  Turns out that she will be his R.A.!  Sweet!  That will help that he already met her.  And I was mature enough to not ask her for her cell phone number, email address, and twitter name…you know, just in case. 

During the ride home, we talked about La Roche baseball.  Tyler had heard that practice will probably start the first week of classes.  I asked Tyler his thoughts on that. 

“I’m surprised that we start so soon, but I’ll be ready.  I’ll start playing catch this week to get my arm prepared.  It will be good for me to, you know, have something to think about and kinda focus on”.

Yes, I do know.  I knew exactly what he was talking about.  The book was open, revealing the next chapter in his life and he was a little apprehensive about turning the page.  There were so many things I wanted to say.  So many things that needed to be said.  So, I handled it like any good mother would…..

“How about them Buccos?”

In the end, my job as a parent is to leave him with both the right size sheets and a sense that he is well equipped for this next, independent stage of life.  The challenges are no greater or lesser than when he arrived eighteen years ago.  

Deep breath! It’s going to be okay.

Bring an Extra Sheet for Toga Parties and other Survival Tips

When Tyler and I were shopping at Bed, Bath and Beyond for some dorm essentials, I couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic….and jealous!  The items they have for these kids nowadays rock!  They had cute stackable shelving whereas I had to uhhh….umm….steal, I mean, borrow forever, actual milk crates from McDonalds to stack for “cute” organizers.  They had nice bathroom essential organizers for trips to the shower or nightly visits to brush and wash.  I used a little plastic bucket.  They now make a bug mattress protector which should be placed first on the mattress because anything from the previous users stays inside.  Uhhhh, Yuck!

As we were walking through the store and I was throwing things in the cart randomly, Tyler was taking them out.

 “I don’t need that”….

”Why do I want that?”…..

”I don’t need that, Mommmmm”……

It made me wonder if all boys are like this or just mine. When I was texting this to a friend, she made a very valid point, this next chapter in his life is equally as hard for him as it is for me.  That’s exactly it.  Tyler deals by not dealing.  The mere thought of him going shopping for college stuff put him in a bad mood especially since it was a Saturday evening and it meant…gasp!....time away from his friends!

Freshman year is a big step for a lot of youngins; it can be the first step towards independence. Freshman year means moving away from home, living on your own and truly experiencing a world where you are the only one responsible for both your choices and mistakes. It’s a year of laughter, fun, drinks and screw-ups. It’s a year that is impossible to emerge from without learning a thing or two.  And to some, it’s scary. 

Because I've “been there” and “done that”, I decided to make a list of Survival Tips I thought would be helpful for Tyler. 

High School Friends - You know, the ones that you have to see every minute of the day because you are all leaving and will miss each other tremendously….yeah, them.  Come next summer, you will be like, “I’m ready to go back to school because it’s boring around here”…. I hate to sound like Debbie-Downer but just because you have twitter and texting available at your fingertips doesn't mean you are going to maintain all of your high school friendships with ease.  Because staying in touch with friends is hard, you’ll unsurprisingly drop some high school friends who just don’t “make the cut” — it’s hard enough staying in touch with your BEST friends as it is! And guess what? It’s totally FINE. The world isn't going to end. While it IS essential to hold on to your strongest friendships — after all, they’re what make life worth living — shedding some dead weight can be a good thing. 

Try out new friends -  Some will stick, some won’t. You will eat lunch with someone every day the first week of college and then realize that your friend chemistry just isn't there. You will always say hi to each other for the next 4 years and maintain a healthy Twitter friendship. It’s a mutual understanding that when you say “Happy Birthday!” you really mean “Thanks for being my only friend during Welcome Week “.  You CAN and WILL make new friends at college. It’s exciting and also a reminder that life goes on. With college friendships, quality is more important than quantity. You won’t be everyone’s best friend, but those you do have can become your lifelong friends. Put yourself out there. Join a team or a club, meet people and chat in class.

Wear one item of clothing over and over again - This will make your life real easy; when you have so many other decisions to make sometimes you have to give yourself a free pass in other areas of life. If anyone asks, you’re developing a “signature” style.  With that being said, I’m not saying don’t wash it between wearings. 

Continue to let me bring shampoo and toothpaste in bulk when I visit - Sure you have the campus store and your car to get to Walmart but let me feel useful and needed.  All I’m asking for is a hug and a “thank you”.

Call me on the verge of tears because you are so homesick – I won’t judge, I promise! I know that when I say “hello” and you don’t answer, that you are probably ready to break into a hiccupping-heaving-hysterical wreck. “Hello? Tyler?? Tyler?” Eventually I’ll catch on and get used to this and if you have too much pride to admit to being homesick just fib and give the old “Verizon sucks! They always drop my calls!” excuse. *I just gifted you with a valuable life lesson- a fib for all seasons and reasons.

Parents Are The Best - Of course, right when you move away, there is nothing better than being on your own with no rules, no nagging and no curfews. After a while, though, the novelty wears off. Along with your new found independence, you’ll have crappy dorm food, laundry and cleaning. You’ll be wondering just how mom and dad kept it all together without having a mental breakdown.

Freshman 15 Is REAL - Everyone jokes about the freshman 15 but it’s real. It’s easy to vow to hit the gym every day before class and on the weekends, but once you get there, it’s a whole different story. Trips to the gym quickly turn into trips to the Sheetz, and those after-class gym sessions quickly get tossed aside by the better option of hanging with friends. Weekend gym plans are also easily replaced by hung-over weekends in bed, and a healthy diet is squashed by dorm food and drunken, 2 am pizza runs. Don’t worry. It happens to the best of us. Lucky for you, four months of summer is just what you need to get rid of that freshman 15 so it doesn't become the sophomore 30.

Dorms Are The Best/Worst Thing Ever - Oh, the dorm life of your freshman year…

Who wouldn't love to live in a building with 200 other freshman? It’s great having a hallway full of friends and constant options to hangout, meeting new people and not even having to leave the building, having a cafeteria so you don’t have to make food, and blasting music with your friends. You’re living the dream, right? By the end of the year, dorm life is a different story. Hanging out becomes tedious when you need to study and they don’t. A cafeteria full of the same tired food has kind of lost its appeal, and you’re dying to take a hot shower at home in your own bathroom. Trying to get some sleep while the guys down the hall decide to have a movie marathon on full blast? Not fun. Dorms are a necessary piece of freshman year, and they are the greatest place to work on new friendships. However, by the end of the year, you’ll be wondering just how soon you can get the keys to your new house.

Be Yourself - Most importantly, your first year of college teaches you to be yourself.

College is a fresh start, a chance to try new things, meet new people and find out who you are. That being said, this does not mean changing yourself to try and be “cool.”

People can always tell when someone isn't being true, and living a lie for four years of college is too tough to keep up. No one knows you better than yourself, so do what makes you happy, whether it’s reading comic books, joining the drama club or nothing at all.

College is full of people, and no matter what you do, you’ll make friends with similar interests. You want to be able to look in the mirror at the end of the day and smile, content with yourself that you’re happy being you, not trying to keep up the trying task of being someone you’re not.

Must Haves – Extra sheets. You never know when the occasional Toga Party might pop up or use it to hang up on the wall or ceiling to add color to a room that you’re not allowed to paint.  Snacks.  We all have late-night hunger emergencies. You’ll need a stash of food that you don’t need to cook or that will never go bad.  Earplugs. Dorms can be loud. Even if your room is relatively quiet, earplugs can help you keep your concentration while your next door neighbor does jumping jacks. Dry Erase Board. College is hectic. You've got meetings to attend, papers to write, or library books to return. A dry erase board is an easily visible place to keep track of your responsibilities. Also, it’s the perfect place to write your roommate a note—like “I bought some candy; help yourself” or, in a touchier situation, “Would you mind cleaning the bathroom? Thanks!” Odor Spray.  Crucial! You’ll thank yourself when the laundry machine is busted or your roommate reeks like a hippie retreat.

Don’t wait around for someone to give you permission to do things you want to do -  Sadly, I won’t be there along the way to give you all of my wisdom. I’ve been told that I need to cut the cord!  Reality is that no one but you is going to give you approval to take a chance, to mess things up, to thicken your skin, to speak up, to listen closely,  to connect, to learn, to grow, to give in, to take chances, to experience college in a way that will make you miss it so much that four years later when you’re 26, you’ll have a night where you drink too much rum at a party, start longing for the good old days and sob like a lunatic during the cab ride home while calling your college BFF.  Only you can give yourself that gift- so remember this: own your life.

By the way, I had a blast my four years at Slippery Rock University and I still keep in touch with a few of my college friends.