I haven't written a "real" blog in a long time. And I rarely get personal on here much anymore, but I'm about to; get ready, y'all.
Momma is losing her shit one day at a time.
Yup. The next few months are going to be tough ones. If you're a parent of a graduating high school senior, then you know where I'm going with this. And if not, you will be at one point, so grab the Kleenex.
My son, Zac, is not only a senior, but he's my baby. See, my oldest, Jonah, went off to college last year, which ripped my heart out. Like, I cried when I saw his favorite yogurt in the fridge; I laid in his bed and smelled his sheets; I even answered his FaceTime call at 2 am just to see his little face. Ya, I'm "that Mom." So, the thought of watching my BABY graduate this May is already making me nauseous.
I will be an empty-nester.
Yes, I want him to fly, duh. And of course, I want them both to do what their Dad and I "taught" them! They are prepared and ready! I'm not that big of a nut-job! (I'm not.) I am over-the-moon they are doing such extraordinary things. I only wish I could get an apartment off-campus and stop by every once in and while. No? Yeesh.
The truth? I've tried to bribe them with laundry service—no such luck.
So, I will be left here alone with my heart shattered into a million pieces. Don't they care about me? I kid—kind of. And yes, I'm sure thousands of Moms feel exactly what I'm feeling, but I think it's different when you're divorced. So, maybe 50% of those thousands of Moms feel like me. Am I making sense?
Let me explain.
Divorce changes things. Shhh, don't get all miffed; hear me out.
I've had both kids an entire week on and then a week off for the last nine years. And the weeks they are with me, they are REALLY with me. They get Mom all to themselves: no boyfriend, no date nights- nada. I'm trying to say; the boys get me at full strength because I have no one else to rely on, ok? No other parent to go to for help or support. I'm "on" 24/7, and I'm fully engaging from the minute they get up for school until they say goodnight at the end of the day—me, myself, and I.
And I chose to have it this way; we wanted it this way.
It's just me, Jonah, and Zac- at least for most. Sometimes, my Wasbund stops by, or they go over there to visit their dog. But typically, it's the three of us. It's a concentrated version of their time with me and then with my Wasbund when they make the switch on Friday- the same thing over there. Dad is on overdrive. Ha. And that's when I get my alone time to recharge, relax and miss the fuck out of them.
Ya, ya...I know. Lots of you have said, "You should be used to it, the boys leaving for school, Jen. You've had so much time away from them since the divorce." How about y'all fuck off? Sorry, that wasn't nice; I'm trying to work on my reactivity over here. But, facts- just because I'm away from them on my week-off doesn't mean college should be or is any less difficult a transition. I'm not "used to" the time away from them. And the time they spend with their Dad and college are two different animals.
That's what I'm saying here! I think because I'm with them so intensely during my week ON that our "unit" is a force to be reckoned with; the three of us work. When Jonah left, it was like Zac, and I lost our Quarterback. Our starting lineup sucked, and we had to rework some of our plays. Nothing felt right; it was like we were missing an integral part of our team.
When I watched Jonah walk away from me at Syracuse, and he turned to wave goodbye, I felt like I was losing a part of my body. Like a limb. Fuck, I just can't. I'm crying now as I type. Dramatic, sure. But listen, just like going through a divorce or losing a loved one- you don't know until you know. You can't understand until you go through it. Everyone tries to prepare you and tell you what to anticipate, but you have no clue until you leave your baby on that campus.
Turn, and walk away.
Even the barista at Starbucks (Oh, Jonah has an SB right by his dorm!) knew more than I did that day. I was sobbing after I dropped him off and went to get myself together before heading to the airport. The only thing that could possibly make me feel better was a PSL. The guy took one look at me...eyes red, puffy, and said, "You're the fifth one today and the first MOM." I loved that. I ordered my drink and sat sobbing, waiting for my Uber.
Now, here we go again...
Maybe now that I know what to expect, it will be easier?
Up. My. Meds. ;)
And boys, if you're reading this...please, call your Mom.